The Masquerade: City of Angels (IC) Always Accepting

[Malkasabbat]

China Town Temple

With Mao having returned to his temple to await word from his operatives canvasing the area of the explosion for anything valuable, things where developing slowly for the moment. With the police all over the area and the sun starting to rise Mao had to turn to the youth of his organization to continue the day time activity of searching for any information. It was times like these Mao was glad that he had taken in the local youths and given them a purpose rather than simply street gangs, their talents could be honed and most of all...they can go out in the daylight when his other operatives can't. It is a job that keeps the streets of China Town free of thugs and everything else would continue running as it should be. Night was slowly coming to an end it seemed, the clubs where starting to close and with them the daylife would return to this sleepy city.

"Send out the local younglings I want eyes and ears int he downtown areas, the Camillia will undoubtedly try and silence anyone and anything trying to learn about what happened here tonight, if not them than the local anarchs, either way we should be able to find what we are looking for if we stick out heads out for long enough. Someone will eventually try and cut it off, the only question then will be if they are successful or not." Mao took a sip of some nice aged tea he had been saving before taking out a nice long opium pipe. Unlike the kindered the Kuei-jin could still experience some of the pleasures of the living. "Has their been any word on the missing SWAT van that fled the scene?" he turned to see one of his operatives come in.

"Sir we have reports that the van was last seen heading north yet we have been unable to confirm anything, it could be anywhere at this point we just don't have enough information at the time, we have a few operatives out looking. However it may be best if we continue to follow up the lead at corenors office"

Mao nodded, "If my operative does not report anything soon send a few of the local youth to make sure that they get out alive, last thing we need is to have a body added to the blood bath tonight. I am expecting a visit sooner or later, we must be ready to entertain guests should they arrive sooner rather than later"

The Keui-jin nodded and headed back out to relay the different orders of mao before being stopped, "Just to be safe, send word down to the dockyard, in this confusion let us see if anything interesting has come in, we could always use some interesting new merchandise" The operative nodded and took out a cellphone calling up the dockyard and letting them know they had the go ahead to loot a few containers, with everyone focused on the fire up north a few missing containers wouldn't lead to much suspicion.

LA Dockyard

"Mao just gave the order, let's see if we can find anything interesting in all this mess" a Keui-jin said with a smirk, at all times a mixture of thugs Mao had converted and Keui-jin where to watch the dockyard. Now it seemed to work out perfectly in their favor, "lets get to it." one said taking a crowbar and heading out starting to open up containers that had landed earlier that day. Everything was fairgame for the moment, they had to move quickly was the only problem, with the sun coming up soon everyone would see what they where doing.

"Like taking candy from a stillborn" one keui-jin said chuckling as they went to work, everything would eventually find its way back to china town, one after another a few black and white vans would be loaded up and sent off one after the other to the temple to be unloaded. After the job the Keui-jin and humans would avoid the docks for a few days not wanting to draw to much attention to them or the operation. In the end they could always blame it on gangs or some nonsense, it was far enough away from china town that they deniability.

[Finsternia]

Simone de Angelo

The World Beneath the Sea was indeed breathtaking and mesmerizing to behold. In these depths where the light bends and dances is also where one could see the magic. A plethora of sea creatures both known and unknown populate the waters. Scales of every possible color, combination, sheen, and shine glow as the light from above hit the graceful swimmers. Simone couldn't help but open his mouth in awe and was surprised that the waters didn't fill his lungs and drown him. In fact, it was as if he was made to swim with these beings and live in the Sea.

The waters of the Sea also calmed down the remnants of pain inside him, the sting of his former wounds gone and was replaced by the majestic feeling of the arcane waters. He even felt invigorated, the same feeling after doing a hefty work out. The feeling that it was as if the Blood of the Gods, the Golden Ichor, the Heavenly Essence, courses through your veins and feels like you're on top of the world. He felt like that, tireless, alive, and well.

He paid and shared an ear with the graceful wordless song of the Sea and of the Nymphs, hummed with the tune and melodious harmony. Gazing in amazement at the Mother Dragon's family, their wings, their scales, their sheer size and magical strength. The young mage only stared at the greatness in front of him, feeling small and insignificant against this wondrous world of glamour and life.

Simone looked at the Mother Dragon with a huge smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, seemingly have forgotten the pains of his ordeal awhile ago. "Please! Show me all of the Sea! It's so... It's so beautiful!"

Sage Astorias

Epeiosa's joy with her creation made the Archmaster smile. The children's joy when learning something new and the inquisitive desire that follows will always put a smile upon his heart. The Sage held is neatly braided and bounded beard, caressing it as he thought. "What Magic did I use in creation of my home? Well, Magic." He said while laughing before continuing again. "One thing that you must understand is that Magic is not bound by definitions nor morality. There is no Black nor White Magic. All of it will only be once it will be, once it is given the will and purpose of the mage."

"Perhaps you're asking how I made this place? It was quite a long time ago. I bought this place and first made the four great wards that you see protecting my home. These are to prevent any supernatural being who would want to trespass and to subdue my Nimbus from generating Paradoxes out of nothing. My colleagues have adviced me to leave this plane for my own but... I loved and will always love this world we call our home."

Astorias gestured towards the great treehouse that almost touched the clouds and the sky. It was a sharp contrast against the skyscrapers that littered the city, that jagged from the earth like concrete and metal claws and teeth. "It took a whole day and night to grow the tree. At first, I only made the first floor. It's where the living room is, the kitchens, and my own rooms. But when I started to rescue those who are in need, I expanded and expanded to accomodate them all even until this very day."

Silvanus

Silvanus gave a hearty laugh and held Mikhailov's hand tenderly yet firmly, like how one would hold a dear friend's hand. "My Rose, how could you assume that I would want harm upon you? Do you doubt me? Such a sad thought..." His face looked forlorn but a smile surfaced once again. "I know this wonderful restaurant that the Kine has loved for their masterfully cooked meals. You still require mortal and human consumption, am I not? Just like what I said, I would like to know my new partner in crime over dinner."

The Vampire's chartreuse green eyes rolled back as a wave of psychic energy was released from his body. With it, Mikhailov would hear every single Malkavian in the city, a howling and frightening cacophony of laughter, words, thoughts, and noises that are jumbled and mixed together into incoherence. Images, smells, and various sensations would overload his system. Touches, pain, deafening screams would meet him head on. Searing pain. Euphoric pleasure. Enigmatic whispers. Murderous thoughts. Overwhelming emotions. Swirling madness.

As the mental chaos raged, Silvanus' voice triumphed over them all.

"Hey... Are you alright?"

If Mikhailov's mind would return back to reality, Silvanus is smiling warmly at him like as if nothing happened along with the "normal" occurences of whisperings and sensory hallucinations. "Is something the matter, my dear Rose?" Silvanus would step forward as his other hand would grace Mikhailov's face, gently touching his smooth cheek. "Is something bothering you? Does my presence unnerve you? Pray do forgive me, my dear Rose..."

The screeching of tires would interrupt the two as a limousine stopped on it's tracks. A tall man dressed in all black would appear out of the vehicle to open its doors for the two. "Master Silvanus... We have made the preparations... Please do step in and I shall be more than happy to serve you..." Silvanus broke away from Mikhailov and wordlessly moved towards the limousine and jumped right in. He gestured towards Mikhailov to sit beside him in which the mysterious driver would shut the door as the two got in.

The trip to the restaurant was silent, not even Silvanus would talk to Mikhailov as the Malkavian Elder stared out of the window, except for the news on the turned on radio. Mysterious deaths, more murders, more crime. Such is the nature of Los Angeles, such is the nature of California, such is the nature of Kindred and Kine. The murders of the two vampires were also there. The descriptions of the staking and their blackened skeletons and their unusual fangs.

"Sabbat or Anarch. These are children... The Camarilla would go through extensive lengths to cover up the story. But this is just a pathetic and thoughtless assassination. Even I during my fits could do better. Perfectly even." The tone of Silvanus' words seemed sane and conscious of his state. His words also came out of nowhere despite remaining silentbfor minutes on end. Just like how fast he spoke out his thoughts to Mikhailov, he has fallen silent once again.

Perhaps it took around twenty or so minutes to arrive at their destination, the only solace was the radio and the whispers. Silvanus stepped out first, offering his hand to Mikhailov and guided him towards the reception. It was a man around his fifty's or sixty's that greeted them, prim and poised with his sharp uniform. "Ah! Sir Silvester Argent! We have been expecting you sir! Please, come with me." They were led inside the prestigious restaurant where they were assigned a table around the northern part of the room. A waiter came beside the two, giving them the menus as he patiently held upon his pen and paper.

"I'll take my usual. And I'm feeling up for it for some medium rare steak and some of your salad." The waiter listed them quickly and nodded. "How about your... company sir?" Silvanus slowly looked at him with a thin smile that says a lot. "Ask him. My Rose!" He said, reaching across the table to hold Mikhailov's hand. "Perhaps you have chosen what you wanted? Please, do pick what you want. Worry not about the price."

[Luminesa]

Simone de Angelo

The World Beneath the Sea was indeed breathtaking and mesmerizing to behold. In these depths where the light bends and dances is also where one could see the magic. A plethora of sea creatures both known and unknown populate the waters. Scales of every possible color, combination, sheen, and shine glow as the light from above hit the graceful swimmers. Simone couldn't help but open his mouth in awe and was surprised that the waters didn't fill his lungs and drown him. In fact, it was as if he was made to swim with these beings and live in the Sea.

The waters of the Sea also calmed down the remnants of pain inside him, the sting of his former wounds gone and was replaced by the majestic feeling of the arcane waters. He even felt invigorated, the same feeling after doing a hefty work out. The feeling that it was as if the Blood of the Gods, the Golden Ichor, the Heavenly Essence, courses through your veins and feels like you're on top of the world. He felt like that, tireless, alive, and well.

He paid and shared an ear with the graceful wordless song of the Sea and of the Nymphs, hummed with the tune and melodious harmony. Gazing in amazement at the Mother Dragon's family, their wings, their scales, their sheer size and magical strength. The young mage only stared at the greatness in front of him, feeling small and insignificant against this wondrous world of glamour and life.

Simone looked at the Mother Dragon with a huge smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, seemingly have forgotten the pains of his ordeal awhile ago. "Please! Show me all of the Sea! It's so... It's so beautiful!"

Sage Astorias

Epeiosa's joy with her creation made the Archmaster smile. The children's joy when learning something new and the inquisitive desire that follows will always put a smile upon his heart. The Sage held is neatly braided and bounded beard, caressing it as he thought. "What Magic did I use in creation of my home? Well, Magic." He said while laughing before continuing again. "One thing that you must understand is that Magic is not bound by definitions nor morality. There is no Black nor White Magic. All of it will only be once it will be, once it is given the will and purpose of the mage."

"Perhaps you're asking how I made this place? It was quite a long time ago. I bought this place and first made the four great wards that you see protecting my home. These are to prevent any supernatural being who would want to trespass and to subdue my Nimbus from generating Paradoxes out of nothing. My colleagues have adviced me to leave this plane for my own but... I loved and will always love this world we call our home."

Astorias gestured towards the great treehouse that almost touched the clouds and the sky. It was a sharp contrast against the skyscrapers that littered the city, that jagged from the earth like concrete and metal claws and teeth. "It took a whole day and night to grow the tree. At first, I only made the first floor. It's where the living room is, the kitchens, and my own rooms. But when I started to rescue those who are in need, I expanded and expanded to accomodate them all even until this very day."

Silvanus

Silvanus gave a hearty laugh and held Mikhailov's hand tenderly yet firmly, like how one would hold a dear friend's hand. "My Rose, how could you assume that I would want harm upon you? Do you doubt me? Such a sad thought..." His face looked forlorn but a smile surfaced once again. "I know this wonderful restaurant that the Kine has loved for their masterfully cooked meals. You still require mortal and human consumption, am I not? Just like what I said, I would like to know my new partner in crime over dinner."

The Vampire's chartreuse green eyes rolled back as a wave of psychic energy was released from his body. With it, Mikhailov would hear every single Malkavian in the city, a howling and frightening cacophony of laughter, words, thoughts, and noises that are jumbled and mixed together into incoherence. Images, smells, and various sensations would overload his system. Touches, pain, deafening screams would meet him head on. Searing pain. Euphoric pleasure. Enigmatic whispers. Murderous thoughts. Overwhelming emotions. Swirling madness.

As the mental chaos raged, Silvanus' voice triumphed over them all.

"Hey... Are you alright?"

If Mikhailov's mind would return back to reality, Silvanus is smiling warmly at him like as if nothing happened along with the "normal" occurences of whisperings and sensory hallucinations. "Is something the matter, my dear Rose?" Silvanus would step forward as his other hand would grace Mikhailov's face, gently touching his smooth cheek. "Is something bothering you? Does my presence unnerve you? Pray do forgive me, my dear Rose..."

The screeching of tires would interrupt the two as a limousine stopped on it's tracks. A tall man dressed in all black would appear out of the vehicle to open its doors for the two. "Master Silvanus... We have made the preparations... Please do step in and I shall be more than happy to serve you..." Silvanus broke away from Mikhailov and wordlessly moved towards the limousine and jumped right in. He gestured towards Mikhailov to sit beside him in which the mysterious driver would shut the door as the two got in.

The trip to the restaurant was silent, not even Silvanus would talk to Mikhailov as the Malkavian Elder stared out of the window, except for the news on the turned on radio. Mysterious deaths, more murders, more crime. Such is the nature of Los Angeles, such is the nature of California, such is the nature of Kindred and Kine. The murders of the two vampires were also there. The descriptions of the staking and their blackened skeletons and their unusual fangs.

"Sabbat or Anarch. These are children... The Camarilla would go through extensive lengths to cover up the story. But this is just a pathetic and thoughtless assassination. Even I during my fits could do better. Perfectly even." The tone of Silvanus' words seemed sane and conscious of his state. His words also came out of nowhere despite remaining silentbfor minutes on end. Just like how fast he spoke out his thoughts to Mikhailov, he has fallen silent once again.

Perhaps it took around twenty or so minutes to arrive at their destination, the only solace was the radio and the whispers. Silvanus stepped out first, offering his hand to Mikhailov and guided him towards the reception. It was a man around his fifty's or sixty's that greeted them, prim and poised with his sharp uniform. "Ah! Sir Silvester Argent! We have been expecting you sir! Please, come with me." They were led inside the prestigious restaurant where they were assigned a table around the northern part of the room. A waiter came beside the two, giving them the menus as he patiently held upon his pen and paper.

"I'll take my usual. And I'm feeling up for it for some medium rare steak and some of your salad." The waiter listed them quickly and nodded. "How about your... company sir?" Silvanus slowly looked at him with a thin smile that says a lot. "Ask him. My Rose!" He said, reaching across the table to hold Mikhailov's hand. "Perhaps you have chosen what you wanted? Please, do pick what you want. Worry not about the price."

Endymion

"Yes! I will show you all of the things that will be pleasing to you. Fear not, there is much to see, and all of it is good for healing and understanding..." the Mother-Dragon spoke, nodding determinedly to her little charge. She then transformed into her massive dragonic form, and put him and Calliope on her back, before swimming toward the center of the kingdom. All of the beings that swam and played before the dragon noticed her, and those that did turned quickly to her and bowed deeply. She was respected among them as the first of Endymion's creations, and also as his favorite, making her a being of both prestige and of great hidden power. Yet she never lorded her status over any of them. When she passed around, she was slow in making the rounds, carressing with her massive neck the creatures that came to greet her, and showing kindness to every new being that seemed intimidated by her. She spoke to them in a language Simone could not understand, one that sounded like the whispers of another world. Of course, this was because he was in another world.

A massive, glass-like castle stood in the very center of the kingdom, glittering translucently in the water as the eternal light under the Sea reflected upon it constantly. As the dragon headed past the beings around her, and brought Simone and Calliope to see the place, she grew somewhat wistful in her massive, compassionate opal eyes. Something about this place both felt like home and also brought some sad memories. She had not lived in this place for a long time, not since she had created her own majestic home elsewhere, which she desired to show Simone further in the trip. Yet nevertheless, she swam through the entrance of the castle, and she showed them the inside. All of it was translucent, and yet because of the calmness and freshness of the water they were in, every detail of the castle was visible. An elegant, neo-Gothic, almost cathedral-like castle, with grand balls full of sirens, mermaids, and other creatures all rushing around, as though they were preparing for the coming of a specific creature.

"...This is the Castle of Harmony. Here. Beings that desire magical harmony come here to be healed, simply by wandering the halls of this majestic place...It can restore any ailment related to Magic...Lack of power, lack of wisdom, lack of projection, lack of foresight...and even a lack of love..." She spoke the last line softly, and seemed to consider for a moment showing Simone something special. Yet she did not have permission to show such a thing. Her large eyes glimmered with worry, as she figured this may not be the best thing to do yet. Nevertheless, she did want Simone to experience the castle's power. She lowered him and Calliope to the ground, and she turned herself back to her human form. When she smiled at them, as she remained close, she whispered to Simone, "...If you ever feel any pain here, you merely need to whisper of it, and the Castle's Magic shall understand...It can even reach into your heart and caress your old wounds, my little one...try it."

Epeiosa

Astorias made the process sound so easy. He built his home little-by-little everyday, in the realm in which he had no reason to stay, except for love. Love kept him bound to a place that, in a way, no longer welcomed him. Yet he loved the place, and decided not to abandon it anyway. Epeiosa considered her own home. Endymion had never told any of them the story of how Arcadia was formed, or of how Endymion came to create his own realm. She wondered now what he would say, if he asked. Yet her primary concern was creating something for Astorias, and so she pulled herself from her birth-realm and literally back to Earth. "...Could I use my Magic to make...a home like that?...If...one day I decided to leave Arcadia and to live here...C-Could I do that as well?..." she inquired softly, uncertain as to her question. Was this the question she wanted to ask? No. She felt there was something else in her heart, but that she had to chip away at it before she could understand what to ask.

Mikhailov

Silvanus was of course unstable and unpredictable, and this moment was no exception. Right in the middle of the conversation, as the Vampire referred to Mikhailov yet again as his Rose, Silvanus's eyes rolled back, and he seemed to be taken by a fit of madness. In the moment, he seemed to be communicating to the Mage his entire "family"-the other Vampires that laughed, cried, and giggled with pleasure around the city. His eyes widened, though not with terror. Such communion among these insane creatures was strange, and yet thrilling. As though he had become a medium to the motions of these phantoms, he could feel every movement, every touch, and every sound they made. He could hear the wicked thoughts, the cries of pain, the powerful emotions of beings that had lived for hundreds of years.

As though he might be beginning to feel what they felt, his own blue eyes seemed to glitter with that electric-chartreuse-color, and he grinned. "...Yes...speak to me...speak to me, unknown beings among you...speak to me and let me understand you...I have come to understand you...Do not fear the Mage among you...Let me witness what has been hidden from humanity...I must return to them and show them...I must show them the knowledge they have missed...Why humanity has yet to rise...Why they continue to be your prey, instead of your allies..." He spoke in a whisper, as though he was in a dream. Yet despite his gentle tone, steady and dreamy like a lullaby, the insanity did cause his body inhumane stress. Enough that a single tear of blood dropped from the corner of each eye. The stress could very well be enough to kill him, yet he was so enraptured that he hardly minded.

Luckily, Silvanus brought him out of the rapture just in time. The Mage blinked, as Silvanus touched his cheek, and he stared up at him. He was not embarrassed for the things he had said, however. Rather, he seemed even more impressed by the Vampire. The chartreuse still seemed to flow around his eyes, revealing perhaps a hint of madness within his own eyes. "...Yes...I am well...Do not apologize...for your perfection...No, you must not apologize...never apologize. You need not do such...All of you...need not do such..." Several more drops of blood dripped from each eye, before the painful reaction seemed to stop. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind, he still heard the voices of Silvanus's family, and he seemed to speak to all of them at once by speaking to Silvanus. Was he really one being, or one of many? This mystery pleased and captured Mikhailov, who now had a new question to ponder.

As he spoke, a limousine arrived, and he got inside and sat next to Silvanus. The two were mostly silent during the ride to the restaurant, but Mikhailov did not mind this. His mind was busy with other things, with mentally recording the scene he had witnessed moments before. This scene could very well happen in the restaurant, given how Silvanus was. Yet were such fits triggered by anything? Were they triggered by simple contact, or by feelings of some sort? Powerful, bone-crushing feelings? "...Of course...You are perfect. They do not compare..." he replied, with a giggle. Even as his mind was elsewhere, he did not forget to continue his role as Silvanus's servant. He did not yet consider himself a "partner", an "equal". Something was missing, and he needed to know what.

When they arrived, he got out with Silvanus, and looked around the building. The restaurant was breathtaking. The smooth, dark, modernistic design made it a place that fit perfectly in the wealthy, lively corner of Los Angeles they stood in. He walked inside with him, wondering if the waiter and the chauffeur were also friends of Silvanus, if not his family. Did he experience them as well? He could only wonder. He also wondered if they noticed the faint red streaks on his face, where he had wiped away the tears of blood, and if they felt any sort of pleasant surprise at seeing a human. Did they think Silvanus had brought him as the meal? He had no idea. All of his theories merely swam in his mind, like goldfish in a bowl of water. He sat down with Silvanus, and could barely even concentrate on ordering.

"...For the appetizer, beef stew. For the main dish I will have a filet mignon, medium-well. And to drink I'll have a bottle of Lambrusco...Thank you," he spoke politely and quickly. When Silvanus took his hand, he turned away from the waiter and stared at him. Was it going to happen again? He had to know. He had to see all of them again. Silvanus, and all of his insane clan. "...I must say...I do not think I have been this close to what I have wanted...in a very long time..." he whispered, hoping the waiter would leave them to themselves to speak, as he began in this way.

[Kingdom of Irhk]

LA Dockyard

"Mao just gave the order, let's see if we can find anything interesting in all this mess" a Keui-jin said with a smirk, at all times a mixture of thugs Mao had converted and Keui-jin where to watch the dockyard. Now it seemed to work out perfectly in their favor, "lets get to it." one said taking a crowbar and heading out starting to open up containers that had landed earlier that day. Everything was fairgame for the moment, they had to move quickly was the only problem, with the sun coming up soon everyone would see what they where doing.

"Like taking candy from a stillborn" one keui-jin said chuckling as they went to work, everything would eventually find its way back to china town, one after another a few black and white vans would be loaded up and sent off one after the other to the temple to be unloaded. After the job the Keui-jin and humans would avoid the docks for a few days not wanting to draw to much attention to them or the operation. In the end they could always blame it on gangs or some nonsense, it was far enough away from china town that they deniability.

LA Dockyard
Connor MacDomhnaill and crew

In the middle of the night, Connor's phone rang. It was something unwise to do, unless it was something really important. With grunts, he answered the phone, hoping one of his crewmen would go straight to the point.

"- Now, Derrick... You woke me up, so just go straight to the point and...

- Someone got to the docks. I've been scouting them. Come armed and with more men."

Quickly, Connor got up, dressed himself as he shouted to the rest of the Rahu that were with him to get ready, just like an angry lieutenant at his soldiers. They all jumped off their beds, reaching for the guns they managed to smuggle or buy after they arrived at the down, mostly pistols and shotguns.

With hurried steps, they got in the car and ran towards to the dockyards. He wasn't worried about Derrick: He was one of the best scouts the Fianna had. Quick, silent and a stalker that bested most of the other ones in his age, if he wanted to stay hidden, he would stay hidden and no one would notice.

He was worried with lost territory. He just came to LA, and if he wanted to make his domain stronger, he couldn't afford to let people enter like that so easily. There wasn't time to talk: He had to come up with a plan. Connor would be the one to find the two among the containers, while Derrick would be the hidden element. The three Rahu that came to support him would work their way around, eliminating potential opposition while ready to come for Connor's aid if he called. With the plan set, the man moved around the place, each one doing their work.

The two Kuei-Jen would hear heavy steps behind them, accompanied by the voice of a man who clearly wasn't American.

"Well... What do we have here, eh? See, we were going to put this big sign at the entrance saying that the dockyards were under new administration. But I guess I can say it personally then. If you want something inside these containers, you have two options... Negotiate or leave here inside body bags. Which one do you choose? Please, be quick... I woke up just to solve this problem."

[Malkasabbat]

LA Dockyard

"Mao just gave the order, let's see if we can find anything interesting in all this mess" a Keui-jin said with a smirk, at all times a mixture of thugs Mao had converted and Keui-jin where to watch the dockyard. Now it seemed to work out perfectly in their favor, "lets get to it." one said taking a crowbar and heading out starting to open up containers that had landed earlier that day. Everything was fairgame for the moment, they had to move quickly was the only problem, with the sun coming up soon everyone would see what they where doing.

"Like taking candy from a stillborn" one keui-jin said chuckling as they went to work, everything would eventually find its way back to china town, one after another a few black and white vans would be loaded up and sent off one after the other to the temple to be unloaded. After the job the Keui-jin and humans would avoid the docks for a few days not wanting to draw to much attention to them or the operation. In the end they could always blame it on gangs or some nonsense, it was far enough away from china town that they deniability.

LA Dockyard
Connor MacDomhnaill and crew

In the middle of the night, Connor's phone rang. It was something unwise to do, unless it was something really important. With grunts, he answered the phone, hoping one of his crewmen would go straight to the point.

"- Now, Derrick... You woke me up, so just go straight to the point and...

- Someone got to the docks. I've been scouting them. Come armed and with more men."

Quickly, Connor got up, dressed himself as he shouted to the rest of the Rahu that were with him to get ready, just like an angry lieutenant at his soldiers. They all jumped off their beds, reaching for the guns they managed to smuggle or buy after they arrived at the down, mostly pistols and shotguns.

With hurried steps, they got in the car and ran towards to the dockyards. He wasn't worried about Derrick: He was one of the best scouts the Fianna had. Quick, silent and a stalker that bested most of the other ones in his age, if he wanted to stay hidden, he would stay hidden and no one would notice.

He was worried with lost territory. He just came to LA, and if he wanted to make his domain stronger, he couldn't afford to let people enter like that so easily. There wasn't time to talk: He had to come up with a plan. Connor would be the one to find the two among the containers, while Derrick would be the hidden element. The three Rahu that came to support him would work their way around, eliminating potential opposition while ready to come for Connor's aid if he called. With the plan set, the man moved around the place, each one doing their work.

The two Kuei-Jen would hear heavy steps behind them, accompanied by the voice of a man who clearly wasn't American.

"Well... What do we have here, eh? See, we were going to put this big sign at the entrance saying that the dockyards were under new administration. But I guess I can say it personally then. If you want something inside these containers, you have two options... Negotiate or leave here inside body bags. Which one do you choose? Please, be quick... I woke up just to solve this problem."

The Kuei-Jin where honestly shocked to see the massive figure, there qas no chance it was human at the very least, one turned to the other looking unsettled. "Mao didn't tell us we where taking from anyone but the Camilla or anarchs and he doesn't look like either. He Damm sure didn't give up the go to start a war over containers" the other nodded in agreement and he put his gun to the side trying to show he wasn't looking for a fight with.

"We thought the dockyards where neutral or at most under the anarchs, but I can assure you all the creates we hit where tagged for the job at the least. I can get Mao out here tomorrow night to work something out the suns about to come up and it's not very pretty when that happens." The one in charge said, one was holding a shotgun the other a fully automatic uzi, times changing needed to keep up with a bit of hard firepower.

"If that's everything we will head off and be back tomorrow alright? We only ment to spite the Camilla or anarchy for bombing in our territory earlier this night, you can understand right?" The Kuei-Jin looked over the massive figure once the shock had calmed down, they weren't expecting anyone tonight let alone a rather pissed off looking someone it was supposed to be an easy grab, yet things don't always go out as it seemed apparently.

[Finsternia]

Simone de Angelo

The Mother Dragon is not only the mother of the dragon child but she also seem to stand as the mother figure of the creatures of the sea. She was kind and regal, like a lovely queen but was mother to her subjects. Even the meek were given the same love, even more love to show that she is not something to fear but someone to go to. Every single creature had awe and respect for the Mother Dragon and it was clear why. She was a being of compassion and a love that Simone can feel warming his heart. A love that brightens these waters and keeps these beings warm.

The World Beneath the Sea never failed to stun him with wonder. The Castle of Harmony was the proof of that. This place seemed to depict the grand old aged castles of the Medieval Period but this is on another level. It was a wonder that transcends whatever has made by human hands. Simone looked around, amazed as ever like a child in an amusement park. He looked at the Mother Dragon and nodded as he clasped his hands.

'God... Arcadia... The Sea... Whoever you are... If you have known me and have seen me... Grant me peace... Grant my dad happiness... Heal us... Wash over the old wounds that scarred our hearts... Make us learn from the mistakes and accept... Help me... Help me rise from my mistakes... Help me...'

He opened his eyes again and sighed and looked at Caliope. "Um... Miss Caliope? You haven't told me much of your life... May I hear about the Nymphs?"

Sage Astorias

Astorias frown slightly. The fairy girl seemed to have been enarmored by the beauty of Earth. It was not a bad thing but it would bring great displeasure to Endymion. "Yes... Yes you can my dear. But a world, an entire world, is much harder to make. You're not just coloring outlines on a coloring book, you're going to write endless sagas and epics. You're painting entire canvases and weave entire tapestries. It is not an easy task. You must care for your world, you must care for its life and people, or else it shall rot. Either you watch it rot down into misery or cleanse it all with fire to be reborn and watch all those you have loved and labored to paint... burn."

Silvanus

The Malkavian Elder can see, can sense, and can smell the Mage's worry, anxiety, and excitement. He had Mikhailov under his beauty, marvel, and trance like how a Toreador can make the masses kneel and kiss their dainty pedicured feet. The waiter nodded and spoke. "Please wait for your orders for a few minutes, Sir Argent. Have a wonderful night with your associate." Silvanus was a patron of this particular restaurant in town. The artistic and brilliant owner of the place was what drawn him when he was discussing matters with a prominent Gangrel scholar. The place was chosen for such a meeting and it indeed made impressions on him. Simplistic yet elegant.

'But back to the matter of the Mage.' He said to himself as he reached for his own black and white handkerchief and wiped off the dark red smears off Mikhailov's cheeks. "Why do you weep, my little Rose? It was of blood too. Have you taken toil from my presence? Such a shame... A pity... But forgive me." The waiter came back with their appetizers, setting down Mikhailov's in front of him and a small plate of fresh salad before Silvanus. The Elder handled himself with grace and etiquette. It was a rarity and unusual for a vampire to eat but here is Silvanus, taking in food where in his dead stomach would be broken down by Vicissitude to incorporate into his Vitae. An ingenious idea for subterfuge.

"Tell me, my Rose... I haven't heard your name from your lips... Perhaps you would honor me?"

[Luminesa]

Simone de Angelo

The Mother Dragon is not only the mother of the dragon child but she also seem to stand as the mother figure of the creatures of the sea. She was kind and regal, like a lovely queen but was mother to her subjects. Even the meek were given the same love, even more love to show that she is not something to fear but someone to go to. Every single creature had awe and respect for the Mother Dragon and it was clear why. She was a being of compassion and a love that Simone can feel warming his heart. A love that brightens these waters and keeps these beings warm.

The World Beneath the Sea never failed to stun him with wonder. The Castle of Harmony was the proof of that. This place seemed to depict the grand old aged castles of the Medieval Period but this is on another level. It was a wonder that transcends whatever has made by human hands. Simone looked around, amazed as ever like a child in an amusement park. He looked at the Mother Dragon and nodded as he clasped his hands.

'God... Arcadia... The Sea... Whoever you are... If you have known me and have seen me... Grant me peace... Grant my dad happiness... Heal us... Wash over the old wounds that scarred our hearts... Make us learn from the mistakes and accept... Help me... Help me rise from my mistakes... Help me...'

He opened his eyes again and sighed and looked at Caliope. "Um... Miss Caliope? You haven't told me much of your life... May I hear about the Nymphs?"

Sage Astorias

Astorias frown slightly. The fairy girl seemed to have been enarmored by the beauty of Earth. It was not a bad thing but it would bring great displeasure to Endymion. "Yes... Yes you can my dear. But a world, an entire world, is much harder to make. You're not just coloring outlines on a coloring book, you're going to write endless sagas and epics. You're painting entire canvases and weave entire tapestries. It is not an easy task. You must care for your world, you must care for its life and people, or else it shall rot. Either you watch it rot down into misery or cleanse it all with fire to be reborn and watch all those you have loved and labored to paint... burn."

Silvanus

The Malkavian Elder can see, can sense, and can smell the Mage's worry, anxiety, and excitement. He had Mikhailov under his beauty, marvel, and trance like how a Toreador can make the masses kneel and kiss their dainty pedicured feet. The waiter nodded and spoke. "Please wait for your orders for a few minutes, Sir Argent. Have a wonderful night with your associate." Silvanus was a patron of this particular restaurant in town. The artistic and brilliant owner of the place was what drawn him when he was discussing matters with a prominent Gangrel scholar. The place was chosen for such a meeting and it indeed made impressions on him. Simplistic yet elegant.

'But back to the matter of the Mage.' He said to himself as he reached for his own black and white handkerchief and wiped off the dark red smears off Mikhailov's cheeks. "Why do you weep, my little Rose? It was of blood too. Have you taken toil from my presence? Such a shame... A pity... But forgive me." The waiter came back with their appetizers, setting down Mikhailov's in front of him and a small plate of fresh salad before Silvanus. The Elder handled himself with grace and etiquette. It was a rarity and unusual for a vampire to eat but here is Silvanus, taking in food where in his dead stomach would be broken down by Vicissitude to incorporate into his Vitae. An ingenious idea for subterfuge.

"Tell me, my Rose... I haven't heard your name from your lips... Perhaps you would honor me?"

Endymion/Mother Dragon/Calliope

The Castle indeed heard Simone's little prayer, in some way. It glittered with life, a hint of its power, as Simone finished his prayer and turned away. He may not have noticed this, yet the Mother Dragon noticed, and she smiled. Slowly, as Simone remained close to the castle, he would feel its peaceful light, as it flowed around in the glass-like walls and circled him. This peace would follow him, even out of the castle. Only the Dragon, however, understood how this worked. Thus she could only watch and wait.

In the meantime, Calliope heard Simone turn and speak to her, and her eyes widened with surprise. She was not expecting for him to ask her about her own past. Nevertheless, she nodded and smiled, excited to show Simone her way of life. She even let out a little giggle, as she took his hand and swam with him out the castle. The Mother-Dragon watched them go, while standing in the Castle in order to await their return. Being in her Dragonic form, she did not need to follow to see how Simone and Calliope were faring. She was large enough that she could see him from far away, even from as far away as the Castle.

When they finally landed near the circle of the Sirens, Calliope briefly let go of Simone's hand, and rushed to the group of singing creatures and spoke to them. Simone would not be able to recognize the words, but the other Sirens understood and stared collectively at the boy. They then followed Calliope, as she swam back toward her friend, and they all stood around him and examined him. Both male and female, all of them wore entirely-white, yet their eyes, skin, and hair were all different colors and shapes, almost as real humans might have. The difference was primarily in their eyes, however, as they as had eyes that were shaped and glittered like gems. None of them were violent or hostile, though some were a little nervous at the sight of a human.

A single male Siren walked forward, at one point, tall, tanned, and somewhat muscular, wearing a long, Grecian, white robe. He kissed Calliope the cheek, and seemed to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he said made her giggle, and she moved slightly so that her companion could examine Simone. Calliope's other siblings, those Simone had seen on the beach, also rushed out to see him, giggling excitedly as they recognized him. Yet the male seemed to understand that Simone had recently felt pain, as a result of some sort of personal experience, and thus he nodded to the sisters and nonverbially asked them to stay back. When he turned back to the boy, he closed his eyes and placed a hand over his heart. Eventually, he seemed to finish examining whatever he wanted to know, and he opened his eyes. Surprisingly, he seemed to speak at least some English. "...The Castle...has followed you...Welcome..." He had a deep, calming voice, that of a young man who knew far beyond his years.

Epeiosa

The idea of creating a world, only for that world to burn before her, was a frightening thought to Epeiosa. She wanted to avoid such however she could. She wanted to make the beauty that was eternal, a story-book world with every dream that one could possibly create being fulfilled. She smiled up at Astorias, understanding his words. "...When I create that world...I will take care of it...Everyone in it will be happy and safe, just as they are in your world...Everyone will have peace, and nobody will ever be able to try and hurt them. Because...if they do try to hurt them, I'll be the queen of that world, and I'll throw-out the people who want to make my citizens suffer. But..." Her eyes glittered with respect for Astorias, but also some fear. "...I...will admit...I don't know how I would fight them away. How do you keep evil creatures out of your world? You know, things that might want to hurt your family? What special powers do you use?"

Mikhailov

"...Merely some physical stress...It does not bother me...There is nothing to worry about, considering the reaction has ended. No. No. I do not weep because of your presence. I only wish, however, that more people knew of your beauty and perfection...Considering our positions, I am sure we will soon convince many of those things in the future..." he whispered. Finally, the stew arrived, and as Mikhailov was hungry, he could not ignore the juicy, meaty smell close to him. Thus, he let go of Silvanus's hand and slowly began to eat. Watching Silvanus eat his own food was surprising enough, but nothing that bothered him too much. Silvanus was still a vampire. He wondered how he would react when the smell of his blood finally reached his nose. Would it cause for Silvanus to attack him? He could not tell. The Malkavian was so unpredictable that he could not gauge how he would respond to such.

"...My name is Konstantin Mikhailov. I am from Moscow, in Russia. Have you ever been there?...It is a magnificent city, though...Even cities as enormous and interesting as Moscow can get boring, for a man who has lived there all his life. I am a scientist. I used to study pathology among normal beings, but studying diseases among mere humans was...not enough. So I have desired to study pathology among supernatural beings as well. And as a result of my studies, I have become a Mage...no longer human...but still caught in an Existential Limbo beneath that of the Fae..." He finished his stew silently, drank some of his wine, and then laughed. "...How I long to have the form of a Fae...to abandon this form that is so imperfect and desiring of unnecessary things...But...tell me about your own self. You are Silvanus...or shall I refer to you with a title?...Tell me of yourself. Perhaps we have things in common..." he suggested.

[Kingdom of Irhk]

LA Dockyard
Connor MacDomhnaill and crew

In the middle of the night, Connor's phone rang. It was something unwise to do, unless it was something really important. With grunts, he answered the phone, hoping one of his crewmen would go straight to the point.

"- Now, Derrick... You woke me up, so just go straight to the point and...

- Someone got to the docks. I've been scouting them. Come armed and with more men."

Quickly, Connor got up, dressed himself as he shouted to the rest of the Rahu that were with him to get ready, just like an angry lieutenant at his soldiers. They all jumped off their beds, reaching for the guns they managed to smuggle or buy after they arrived at the down, mostly pistols and shotguns.

With hurried steps, they got in the car and ran towards to the dockyards. He wasn't worried about Derrick: He was one of the best scouts the Fianna had. Quick, silent and a stalker that bested most of the other ones in his age, if he wanted to stay hidden, he would stay hidden and no one would notice.

He was worried with lost territory. He just came to LA, and if he wanted to make his domain stronger, he couldn't afford to let people enter like that so easily. There wasn't time to talk: He had to come up with a plan. Connor would be the one to find the two among the containers, while Derrick would be the hidden element. The three Rahu that came to support him would work their way around, eliminating potential opposition while ready to come for Connor's aid if he called. With the plan set, the man moved around the place, each one doing their work.

The two Kuei-Jen would hear heavy steps behind them, accompanied by the voice of a man who clearly wasn't American.

"Well... What do we have here, eh? See, we were going to put this big sign at the entrance saying that the dockyards were under new administration. But I guess I can say it personally then. If you want something inside these containers, you have two options... Negotiate or leave here inside body bags. Which one do you choose? Please, be quick... I woke up just to solve this problem."

The Kuei-Jin where honestly shocked to see the massive figure, there qas no chance it was human at the very least, one turned to the other looking unsettled. "Mao didn't tell us we where taking from anyone but the Camilla or anarchs and he doesn't look like either. He Damm sure didn't give up the go to start a war over containers" the other nodded in agreement and he put his gun to the side trying to show he wasn't looking for a fight with.

"We thought the dockyards where neutral or at most under the anarchs, but I can assure you all the creates we hit where tagged for the job at the least. I can get Mao out here tomorrow night to work something out the suns about to come up and it's not very pretty when that happens." The one in charge said, one was holding a shotgun the other a fully automatic uzi, times changing needed to keep up with a bit of hard firepower.

"If that's everything we will head off and be back tomorrow alright? We only ment to spite the Camilla or anarchy for bombing in our territory earlier this night, you can understand right?" The Kuei-Jin looked over the massive figure once the shock had calmed down, they weren't expecting anyone tonight let alone a rather pissed off looking someone it was supposed to be an easy grab, yet things don't always go out as it seemed apparently.

Connor MacDomhnaill

So it was all a small turf war between the Kuei-Jin, the Camarilla and the Anarchs. Certainly there was some profit to be made from this situation, specially if this "Mao" was so eager to negotiate like they said, he could seize the opportunity to walk around the town with one less enemy after him.

"Oh, I see... Bombing. Definitely not a good thing. See, if you weren't so... eager in explaining your situation I would be ripping your throats apart right now. But I'm in a good mood, I really am. I don't want to create an unnecessary bloodshed here. Let's be reasonable! You can go back to this "Mao" you've told me about, and tell him to come here tomorrow. Or maybe I'll visit him. Yes, that's all, you can go back to the place you came from before the sun comes out and burn you all.

And tell everyone you know the docks are no longer neutral. They are under the control of the Fianna, and if they want to make things pass through here, they'll have to negotiate with me first."

[Imperialisium]

John Korvinus
Dusk
Johannes Vitorski was an ugly man. An ugly Kindred. Nosferatu never were one's for a kind appearance let alone attractive. The beauty of Anna might as well make her an entirely different species if sat next to Johannes. For the Embrace warps the Nosferatu most visibly. Think of an entire clan of Max Shrecks Count Orlok and you'd get the idea. Then of course their variety of colorful nicknames they have accumulated over the epochs. Sewer Rats, Lepers, Priors, Crawlers, and Nossies to name a few. Johannes possessed a sunken nose, drooping eyes, bald, wrinkly skin, long fingers ending in jagged nails, and possessing a sickly pallor to his flesh. The Clan's ability to Obfuscate allowing them to cast an illusion of normal appearance. But even then most Nosferatu spend their lives hidden away from society at large. Many living in the sewers of cities, ancient necropolises, and abandoned buildings. Vitorski himself was not a particularly old Kindred. A Neonate really. Only living independently due to a Sire that abandoned him shortly after stabilizing his Beast post Embrace. As such his powers and abilities where limited. Only escaping the war of the Sects by his insignificance.

Do you see it Nikolai? The Glory of our Communist Revolution! Pah! Thousands dead! My dear Sascha taken from me! But we will escape my dear Nikolai! Just you wait! I met a man who will get us out of here and too America. We only need meet him at the dockyards of Vladivostok. Here....here he comes...

The voice of his father, the last thing he saw of him, for the price of transit was his life. Being drained by the vampire who was the man his father had brokered the deal with. Transport for America. Guaranteed. Just not that both were guaranteed for survive the deal. Then came the days working as a factory sweeper in Seattle. Then a machinist in Detroit and New York City. He joined the United States Army for World War II and mortally wounded in the Battle of Bulge was met by a strange woman dressed in black. Silent amid the artillery and horrors of war she sat beside him. As if all the death and destruction around her was meaningless. Not there. Nothing. She promised him life eternal in exchange for servitude. Nikolai agreed.

"AGGGH.....AKKK....UG." Nikolai sat bolt upright in the uncomfortable cot he was placed on. It creaked as he jolted up. Instantly he felt intense pain in his legs. Looking down his vision swam and he could see the stumps of where his legs should be. He felt his vitae coursing through him working to regrow and heal the damage. It'd be a long recovery for him. Looking to his left he saw an IV bag full of blood. Flowing through the tubing into his arm. His body soaking up the vitae hungrily. He sensed movement to his right and saw Mr. Vitorski.

"Who the fucking hell are you?" said Nikolai. Johannes didn't reply. Instead a familiar voice came from his left. Nikolai flicked his head around and saw John sitting in a simple wooden chair at a small den table. A beer and the remains of a sandwich on a paper plate was before him. "Johannes Vitorski. Nosferatu. Gone silent a while back though." Johannes nodded at John's words.

"Do tell the Lady Anna that I am deeply sorry for my lack of reports. Its just..." John held up a hand to silence Johannes. John wasn't going to throw Vitorski under the bus since he took them in and helped save Nikolai. In the intervening hours that Nikolai had slept in torpor Vitorski had filled John in on the happenings of himself. He had originally gone quiet ever since an Anarch gang had pressed into the neighborhood. He had kept his head down and made his reports. When the Camarilla took the neighborhood back Johannes saw the horrible murders and counter-assassinations. He lost all stomach for it and simply kept his head ducked low from then on.

Outside
9PM
A Chevrolet VOLT crept down the road. Blue and with a lone occupant it moved down the street. Passing normally with its lights on. Creeping around the corner. It circled the block one more, this time killing the headlights as it moved into a parallel parking spot down the street from Vitorski's home. The lone occupant, wearing a brown trench coat, khaki's, and black shoes walked quietly with his hands in his pockets. Moving to the other side of the street. Crossing between two Toyota pick ups the lone man moved up to the wall of the home. Creeping quietly, smoothly, professionally the man peered into the windows. He heard a voice up above on the second floor and moved to the back. Feeling the knob. Locked. The man reached into his pockets and pulled out a lock pit kit. Inserting the pieces and jiggling the lock he managed to hear a small click. The door swung open with a low creak of rusty hinges. He paused. Just some voices up above. Someone apologizing for a lack of reports.

The man entered the home and one could see him wearing black leather gloves. He pulled out a Super Magnum with a silencer equipped to it. He moved to the stairs. Still no movement above. The man crept up the stairs. One step. Two step. He slid like a shadow. A snake. Up the stairs he went with no small power of illusion to minimize his presence. He was a professional. He leveled the pistol and felt with his hearing where everyone was. Movement. The man froze and the door swung open.

BANG!

The noise of the super magnum cartridge discharging was dulled by the silencer. A body flung back with a spray of blood and viscera. Crumpling on the floor on the other side of the room. A man with raven black hair and a beer next to him swung out a pistol. Two flashes erupted. The man in the chair cartwheeled backwards. The man in the trench coat advanced. Weapon drawn.

AGH!

A shrill shriek and a pair of fangs sank into the man's arm. He yelled and delivered a savage punch to the biting man's face. Who fell back from the cot onto the floor with a painful yell. A snarl. The man in the trench coat swung around rapidly in time for Vitorski to slam into him. the trench coated man screamed to reveal fangs of his own. They tore at each other with claws. The man in the trench coat tossed Vitorski aside and jolted up. Vitorski jumped up ready to pounce.

BANG BANG

Two rounds pulped Vitorski's skull like a smashed watermelon. The gunman in the trench coat moved away. Looking were the man with the beer and sandwich was. He was gone. "Looks like your friend ran...Nikolai? That is your name right?" The man's voice was raspy. He was wounded. He hated a job getting dirty. Nikolai rolled onto his back. The man in the trench coat leveled his gun. "Time to die again." The man released a smirk as the Super Magnum came level with Nikolai's forehead.

Nikolai laughed. The man paused. "Fucking dumbass." Nikolai winked. A hand grabbed the trench coated man by the throat. A rapid series of gunshots erupted as John emptied an entire clip into the man's back. The trench coated man was wearing Kevlar. But at point blank range and the Thaumaturgically altered rounds courtesy of the Tremere did their work. The trench coated man sank to his knees.

"Who sent you." said John through gritted teeth. The man in the trench coat sneered with spittle down his chin, "FFFFF---uck....Y." BANG! A round punched through the mans forehead. A few more destroyed the man's skull. John ran over to Nikolai and hauled him off the floor. "We got to go."

[Finsternia]

Simone de Angelo

An unconscious smile dawned upon Simone's face as the peace of the Castle descended upon him. He doesn't know about the Castle doing its magical work but he can feel it. Like a mother's embrace after a heart to heart conversation, it was warm, it was kind, it was a loving assurance that the Castle indeed has heard his prayer.

The young mage followed Calliope. Simone was quite surprised, he seemed to be just gliding through the magical waters of the Sea. The Nymph seems to be bringing her outside of the Castle to meet the distant circle of Nymphs that filled the waters life and song. As he got near, the young mage's cheeks blushed pink as he saw their beauty. They seemed to be at the level of Grecian statues and sculptures. They seemed to be marble statues came to life.

When the male Nymph came close, Simone felt a rush of heat in his cheeks. The male Nymph was extraordinarily beautiful just like his siblings. If Simone could find a description for him, he could have been Adonis, the legendary man that stole Aphrodite's heart through his beauty and charm. He closed his eyes as the Nymph touched him over the chest, feeling an emphatic connection. Soon, he opened his eyes and stared gently at the Nymphs. "Thank you..." He said shyly, blushing at the presence of such beautiful creatures.

Sage Astorias

"A wonderful home... A cold, dark, and gentle place..." The old mage trailed off as he said those words, seemingly staring back to the distant past, towards a cold winter and a dimly lit house made out of sticks and wood. The snow was falling softly, drifting from the heavens above like small orbs of white. At the window was an old woman, hunched over a flickering candle, as she sewed clothes for her grandchildren. "You remind me of someone... Someone who desired a perfect world of peace where the forlorn and the abandoned could be embraced. Such a noble soul..."

Astorias waved his hand and the Certamen Field vanished, bringing them back to the world. It seemed like time past slowly in the field and the world is getting dark. It was afternoon already with the sun hanging below the horizon. "Perhaps we could discuss this inside? I will prepare some cookies for you."

Silvanus

The vampire folded the handkerchief and neatly placed it back in his pockets. "Physical stress? Lies..." Silvanus said, almost hissing the word as he grinned. "But it is not my position to question your reasons why..." His delicate long fingers grasped the thin stem of the wine glass, tasting the soft bright red liquid that it held. It was blood yet altered alchemically to taste like a wine that has been aged for hundreds of years. Strong yet with the headiness of blood. The ecstasy and the pleasure was there, a wonderful feeling of euphoria that came from the vampiric curse.

Silvanus placed his wine glass down and picked up his utensils, slicing an olive in half and started chewing on one half of the small round fruit. "Moscow? Hm, yes I have seen it. Filthy, stinking, filled with pigs and disease... Houses of straw and bricks, humans that clung to life... Hidden horrors at every corner that made my first years of unlife a paranoia..." A soft giggle left the Malkavian's lips which soon devoured the other olive half. "You desire to be like the Fae? Foolish, foolish, foolish."

His fork and knife went through the lettuce with elegant speed and dexterity, cutting the leaves and gracefully offered them to Silvanus' mouth. "Like I said, Kostya, there are things that you are not supposed to know." He seemed to transition fluidly into the Russian of Old, harsh yet smooth as an aged alcoholic beverage. The salad was finished in no time and Silvanus leaned back on his seat, swirling the red liquid in his glass. "Lord Silvanus will be quite appropriate... But ha! I am but a peasant in mortal life. An irony..." He maintained eye contact as he drained the rest of the blood out of the glass, licking the edges. "Kostya, call me Silvanus or anything you like. I am what I am."

[Luminesa]

Simone de Angelo

An unconscious smile dawned upon Simone's face as the peace of the Castle descended upon him. He doesn't know about the Castle doing its magical work but he can feel it. Like a mother's embrace after a heart to heart conversation, it was warm, it was kind, it was a loving assurance that the Castle indeed has heard his prayer.

The young mage followed Calliope. Simone was quite surprised, he seemed to be just gliding through the magical waters of the Sea. The Nymph seems to be bringing her outside of the Castle to meet the distant circle of Nymphs that filled the waters life and song. As he got near, the young mage's cheeks blushed pink as he saw their beauty. They seemed to be at the level of Grecian statues and sculptures. They seemed to be marble statues came to life.

When the male Nymph came close, Simone felt a rush of heat in his cheeks. The male Nymph was extraordinarily beautiful just like his siblings. If Simone could find a description for him, he could have been Adonis, the legendary man that stole Aphrodite's heart through his beauty and charm. He closed his eyes as the Nymph touched him over the chest, feeling an emphatic connection. Soon, he opened his eyes and stared gently at the Nymphs. "Thank you..." He said shyly, blushing at the presence of such beautiful creatures.

Sage Astorias

"A wonderful home... A cold, dark, and gentle place..." The old mage trailed off as he said those words, seemingly staring back to the distant past, towards a cold winter and a dimly lit house made out of sticks and wood. The snow was falling softly, drifting from the heavens above like small orbs of white. At the window was an old woman, hunched over a flickering candle, as she sewed clothes for her grandchildren. "You remind me of someone... Someone who desired a perfect world of peace where the forlorn and the abandoned could be embraced. Such a noble soul..."

Astorias waved his hand and the Certamen Field vanished, bringing them back to the world. It seemed like time past slowly in the field and the world is getting dark. It was afternoon already with the sun hanging below the horizon. "Perhaps we could discuss this inside? I will prepare some cookies for you."

Silvanus

The vampire folded the handkerchief and neatly placed it back in his pockets. "Physical stress? Lies..." Silvanus said, almost hissing the word as he grinned. "But it is not my position to question your reasons why..." His delicate long fingers grasped the thin stem of the wine glass, tasting the soft bright red liquid that it held. It was blood yet altered alchemically to taste like a wine that has been aged for hundreds of years. Strong yet with the headiness of blood. The ecstasy and the pleasure was there, a wonderful feeling of euphoria that came from the vampiric curse.

Silvanus placed his wine glass down and picked up his utensils, slicing an olive in half and started chewing on one half of the small round fruit. "Moscow? Hm, yes I have seen it. Filthy, stinking, filled with pigs and disease... Houses of straw and bricks, humans that clung to life... Hidden horrors at every corner that made my first years of unlife a paranoia..." A soft giggle left the Malkavian's lips which soon devoured the other olive half. "You desire to be like the Fae? Foolish, foolish, foolish."

His fork and knife went through the lettuce with elegant speed and dexterity, cutting the leaves and gracefully offered them to Silvanus' mouth. "Like I said, Kostya, there are things that you are not supposed to know." He seemed to transition fluidly into the Russian of Old, harsh yet smooth as an aged alcoholic beverage. The salad was finished in no time and Silvanus leaned back on his seat, swirling the red liquid in his glass. "Lord Silvanus will be quite appropriate... But ha! I am but a peasant in mortal life. An irony..." He maintained eye contact as he drained the rest of the blood out of the glass, licking the edges. "Kostya, call me Silvanus or anything you like. I am what I am."

Mother-Dragon and Calliope

Calliope giggled, as Simone blushed, and she turned to the Siren that seemed to be her spouse or loved one. She walked over to him, slight and gentle in contrast to his tall and stunning appearance, and she whispered something else to him. The male Siren's eyes widened, and he turned to stare back at Simone. A smile crossed his face. "...A Mage?...Yes...you are blessed. Pure of heart. We will protect you here," he spoke again. He then turned to Calliope and smiled at her, glad to see his normally-timid fellow-Siren so happy to be around someone. Indeed, as the Siren spoke to Simone, Calliope skipped back to Simone's side and began to show him to the rest of the Sirens. All of them were awed by the sight of the little Mage, and they stepped closer to him to examine him. Almost none of them knew English, so they remained silent as they did so. However, as they were pleased by what they saw, one of them began to sing softly, and then the rest, minus Calliope and the leader, all joined in a quick-paced, cheery song, rhythmic like a marching tune. The joyful energy that radiated off them was contagious, and Calliope joined late in the song, while hugging Simone tightly.

The mother-dragon swam nearby, slowly so as to not disturb the singing, and when it finished, she transformed back into her human form and floated next to Simone and Calliope. When she landed, all of the Sirens turned to her, somewhat surprised to see her, and bowed slightly, recognizing her closeness to Endymion. She laughed softly, before curtsying herself to them, and then turned to Simone. "That is the welcoming song of the Sirens. Those who are pure of heart and hear it are full of joy. Those who are wicked and hear it...are said to be filled with utter doom. But you are as a child to all of them, and they are good to those who are pure and sweet. You have nothing to fear among them. Even as they cannot understand your language, they understand the heart..."

She seemed to turn her eyes toward the open sea, as the Sirens left to continue their own festivities, and they glowed softly with the light of hidden memories. "...Yes...that is the single force that connects all here...It is the heart...And I, as Lord Endymion's servant, carry his wishes...and his wish is that I carry the hearts of all of these wonderful creatures...within my own..." She placed a hand over her chest, as though she was remembering something very personal, and her eyes seemed to mist over. Calliope tip-toed closer to her, to try and see what was wrong, but when she sensed that the mother-dragon had begun to think very deeply, she backed away and stood next to Simone, frowning slightly. "...Calliope, may I have a moment with Simone?...I would like to show him something..." she whispered.

The young Siren nodded, kissing Simone on the cheek before she moved away toward the other Sirens. The male Siren she had kissed appeared to meet her, as he noticed she seemed concerned about something. He remained close to her, while the mother-dragon walked toward Simone and took his hands. "...I will show you the single most important place...even more than the castle, or any of the homes here...It is the only place here that Lord Endymion does not know exists...Come see..." She took his hand, then, and swam with him across the water. She slowly retook her form as a dragon, only for the distance, and she nudged him so that he sat on her head during the ride. They moved through the clear, elegant sea in silence, toward a place that was much closer to the bottom than the rest of the realm, though not quite at the bottom.

Initially, it seemed to be a tiny, humble cavern carved into the rocky walls of the water. However, upon entering, here was a small realm all in itself. No other creatures dwelled here, and so the echoes were enormous, and almost as loud as the silence that surrounded them. Here was a beautiful, small, castle-like dwelling, made from the crystals that had formed on the ceiling, in many different patterns and colors, and with two rooms-an entrance room, and a private room. Surrounding them, however, were pearls of every shape and size. They swirled with mystifying colors, and gave the cavern its color and texture, lighting every crease and crevice so that many symbols of an esoteric language were revealed. An ancient language, one that only the mother-dragon seemed to understand. She whispered the words, something similar to an odd mixture of Latin and Arabic, and the crystals began to slowly sing themselves. They hummed together, sounding like a choir of childlike angels. The mother-dragon then landed and turned into her original form, while helping Simone land safely. Turning back to him, she smiled knowingly. "...Tell me, Simone...what do you think this place is?...Would you like to take a guess?"

Epeiosa

All of the training and the conversation had caused for the young Fae to lose track of time. When Epeiosa looked up and saw the stars beginning to greet herself and Astorias, she nodded to the old Mage. "...I...would very much like to hear that story...um..." She walked closer to him, and held his arm, as a little girl might hold the arm of her ailing grandfather. She then turned and smiled up at him, wishing he knew how much he meant to her right now. As the snow fell around them, in the cold and long-lost memory, and she noticed the old woman sewing clothes, she wondered who that could be. Was this also someone Astorias had loved? She frowned, and she turned back to him as the dream ended. "...Yes. We can go inside...I...I guess I am hungry. And I've never had cookies before, I don't think!" she added, with a light note. Such peace surrounded Astorias, and she never wanted to leave it. She was sure that whatever cookies were, they were simply more symbols of peace and warmth, just as was everything his house.

Mikhailov

"...Ah, but Moscow has changed very much since those painful days...or, if they were not painful, at least they were archaic...Russia is a place that seems to change very slowly, and yet when it does...There is always blood, as you know..." His voice became low, not with dread but with excitement, at the idea of revolution. "...Despair and insanity...the very depths of depravity...I am sure those things were pleasing to you, even in your paranoia...As much as the country has modernized, as well, traces of blood are everywhere...The traces of lives lost...The Soviet Union is no distant memory for many...and yet many are also unhappy with the current state of government...People will find fear in anything..." He then drank another glass of wine right down, hardly fazed at all by the alcohol, and then he smiled cheerfully at Silvanus.

"...I will call you Lord Silvanus. I am not yet at your level, as I am an incredibly weak creature by comparison. You may call it foolish, my desire to be a Fae, but I must say that if I remain in this human form for too much longer I shall go insane!...Though...I may already be there...Who knows..." He laughed again, almost blushing it seemed, for some reason. Never one to entirely explain his reactions, however, when he finished laughing he continued, "...Ah but that is how we have become such good friends, in so little time!...As much as I am your prey, and subject to your insanity at any time, I am quite glad to be whatever you ask me to be..." He then grasped Silvanus's hand, returning the favor from a moment ago. "...But I must ask...if you do not think I was crying blood because of physical stress, what do you think it is?..."

[Finsternia]

Simone de Angelo

"Memories..." The mage swam towards one of the beautiful orbs of silver light and touched the smooth surface of the large pearl. He can feel the emotions and the essence hidden within them as they faintly pulsed with power beneath his touch. Simone swam towards the smaller ones and grabbed one the size of a baseball ball. It was perfectly round and spherical and it was cold to the touch. He looked around and listened to the crystals that sung in heavenly voices. It felt like the angels have descended and started singing, the melody playing with his heartstrings like an angel playing a melodious harp. Simone craddled the pearl in his arms and placed it near his heart, the pearl shining a moonlight glow as it resonated deep within Simone. "Please... Tell me of this place!" He said as he looked at the Mother Dragon with wonder.

Sage Astorias

The old archmaster held the young fae like how a grandfather would hold his grandchild's hand as they walked. Astorias waved his staff and the door swung open, letting them in the treehouse. The door to the backyard isn't quite far from the dining room and it took a minute to get there. "I'll tell you more of that story if you want. Stay there and I'll prepare the cookies." The sage turned away and wobbled his way towards the kitchens.

Meanwhile, if Epeiosa haven't seen it, there was a gigantic painting hanged upon the wall. The painted whites and hues were almost the same as the vision of the peaceful winter that Astorias have shown her. The withered yet strong trees were in the same places, the old and lone house too. White winter flowers decorated the slightly snow covered bushes that adorned the house's surroundings. It was as if it was real, almost too real. It seemed to beckon those who have a heavy heart towards it. It was as if it wants its slightly flaking paint to be touched, to be examined.

A warm and inviting smell waffled into the room. The soft and pleasing smell of cookies. Soon after, Astorias stepped out of the kitchen. Beside him was a floating tray of cookies, piled neatly into a mountain of crunchy goodness. Another was a big jug of milk, sloshing in creamy thickness. The old mage placed down the articles of food down, offering Epeiosa a glass which he filled with the milk. He then sat down on his seat and took a cookie. The crunchy bite echoed in the dining room as Astorias started nibbling on it. "Now where have we left off?"

Silvanus

Silvanus laughed silently as he stared down at Mikhailov like an entertained child. "Indeed... The Soviet Union right?" He then took a sip out of his cup. "You humans thought that you've controlled the cold winters of Russia but that time... Baba Yaga ruled supreme as the Shadow Curtain descended... I believe you knew this? You look old enough to know Kostya. The Nosferatu Witch... The Little Grandmother... The Terror of Russia..." The Vampire giggled once again and he placed down his wine glass. "But alas... She died. Oh the carnage that followed was a beautiful display! Red paint upon the white canvas! Russia..."

The Malkavian Primogen clapped his hands and the waiter brought the most awaited fillet mignon and the steak. Silvanus speared through one of the prepared slices with his fork and he brought it in his mouth to chew. "Such flavors... Hundreds of years ago, the only taste we had are smoke and the wild spices..." He then stared at the ornate clock on the wall which read four in the morning. "Why did I think that you're lying?" Silvanus leaned in closer and whispered. "I heard you speak..." He leaned back on his seat and ate another slice. "Be careful, Kostya... Peer not deeper into the abyss... Disturb not the Web... Or the spiders will get you..."

[Imperialisium]

Anna's Residence

Anna sat in darkness, lit by moonlight, once again in her favorite study. A book open before her. Not some ancient tome of power that the Tremere had methodically collated and wrote to fine degree. Nope, she was reading the first edition of Grey's Anatomy. A more up to date version was on the shelf. But she preferred the hand drawn pictures that had been copied onto the pages and rough feel of the paper. Old, rough, darkened paper touched with age. It felt right in her hands. Of ages past and centuries long forgotten to those of the Kine; even Kindred and that spelled a special sorrow to her. Kai shuffled into the room with Medorna following shortly behind him. She did not look at them. Not even acknowledge them. Just flipped the page as they stood there in somber silence. One minute passed. A second passed. Medorna gulped. It was such a subtle sound. Anna's eyes flicked up at him. He took a step back and visibly braced.

"Cat got your tongue?" Medorna blanched and looked down. Kai cleared his throat and spoke. "We have not located John and Nikolai yet. But we are close. They are in the Northern Los Angeles region. Probably hunkered down. The SWAT van has been traced to a freight yard. Looks like they ditched the van and hijacked an eighteen wheeler. We are busy sending operatives to safe houses and making calls to our informants in the area."

Anna nodded. Medorna puffed out his chest and spoke, "The news speaker is indeed Kuei-Jin. Just as suspected. Further I can report a large Anarch incursion is possible in the Van Nuys area. Several agents reported Skull Hand gang and White Shirts encroaching on Westside King territory. The Westside Kings being a Camarilla aligned gang. The Skull Hands and White Shirts being Anarch groups. The Skull Hands and White Shirts being particularly violent street gangs of vampires that had expanded their repertoire after the events of Bloody New Years. Each gang had over a hundred members and affiliates. Then if you counted the White Shirts connection with the Blackjacks up in San Francisco and the Purple Hearts in Oakland that number went up to four hundred affiliated members.

"The presence of the Kuei-Jin is of annoyance to me. Have you anything else?"

"Yes. We looked further into the gang John took out and managed to make a connection. Everything points to a phone purchased in Southern Los Angeles. Sabbat." Anna shut the book with such speed it produced an audible thunder clap. Kai and Medorna looked down quickly. Anna raised her head to them with a smile. It was not an endearing smile. It was a smile that would produce fear in the heats of men's souls. "I think it is time we send business to our partners no? Notify Primogen Silvanus and his pet Magician that they have orders. I want them to broker a pact with the Kuei-Jin in Los Angeles for the time being. Along with probing the Sabbat."

"What of John and Nikolai mam?" asked Medorna.

"Leave that to me." replied Anna.

Twenty-Minutes Later
Silvanus Residence.

Silvanus was the brains and heart of the Malkavian Clan in Los Angeles. A lone man walked up to the front gates and after a few words with the guards was let in. Flashing no less than a couple forms of identification and dropping his obfuscate. The normal maintenance worker visage shimmered and was replaced by a skull like face. A sickly green hue to his skin. A Nosferatu. The vampire entered the residence and waited in the foyer before being met by a Malkavian female in a short skirt. He handed off a letter embossed with the crest of Clan Tremere. The Malkavian looked at it and nodded. The Nosferatu bowed and left in a hurry. Throwing up his hood as he went.

A minute late the letter was slid onto the table where Silvanus and Mikhailov dined.

Primogen, Mage

It has come to my attention that the Kuei-Jin and Sabbat have a growing presence in Los Angeles. This cannot be tolerated and must be checked for the good of us all. The Camarilla and our clans. Clan Malkavian will have the honor of leading Camarilla talks with the Kuei-Jin, while also spearheading our efforts against the Sabbat festering in Southern Los Angeles. The plague of the Sabbat will see all our heads mounted on spikes should we let it continue to infect our territories Silvanus. Mikhailov, consider this a test of worth, and may your newfound patrons be not held in contempt.

Sincerely,
Anasztazia

[Luminesa]

Simone de Angelo

"Memories..." The mage swam towards one of the beautiful orbs of silver light and touched the smooth surface of the large pearl. He can feel the emotions and the essence hidden within them as they faintly pulsed with power beneath his touch. Simone swam towards the smaller ones and grabbed one the size of a baseball ball. It was perfectly round and spherical and it was cold to the touch. He looked around and listened to the crystals that sung in heavenly voices. It felt like the angels have descended and started singing, the melody playing with his heartstrings like an angel playing a melodious harp. Simone craddled the pearl in his arms and placed it near his heart, the pearl shining a moonlight glow as it resonated deep within Simone. "Please... Tell me of this place!" He said as he looked at the Mother Dragon with wonder.

Sage Astorias

The old archmaster held the young fae like how a grandfather would hold his grandchild's hand as they walked. Astorias waved his staff and the door swung open, letting them in the treehouse. The door to the backyard isn't quite far from the dining room and it took a minute to get there. "I'll tell you more of that story if you want. Stay there and I'll prepare the cookies." The sage turned away and wobbled his way towards the kitchens.

Meanwhile, if Epeiosa haven't seen it, there was a gigantic painting hanged upon the wall. The painted whites and hues were almost the same as the vision of the peaceful winter that Astorias have shown her. The withered yet strong trees were in the same places, the old and lone house too. White winter flowers decorated the slightly snow covered bushes that adorned the house's surroundings. It was as if it was real, almost too real. It seemed to beckon those who have a heavy heart towards it. It was as if it wants its slightly flaking paint to be touched, to be examined.

A warm and inviting smell waffled into the room. The soft and pleasing smell of cookies. Soon after, Astorias stepped out of the kitchen. Beside him was a floating tray of cookies, piled neatly into a mountain of crunchy goodness. Another was a big jug of milk, sloshing in creamy thickness. The old mage placed down the articles of food down, offering Epeiosa a glass which he filled with the milk. He then sat down on his seat and took a cookie. The crunchy bite echoed in the dining room as Astorias started nibbling on it. "Now where have we left off?"

Silvanus

Silvanus laughed silently as he stared down at Mikhailov like an entertained child. "Indeed... The Soviet Union right?" He then took a sip out of his cup. "You humans thought that you've controlled the cold winters of Russia but that time... Baba Yaga ruled supreme as the Shadow Curtain descended... I believe you knew this? You look old enough to know Kostya. The Nosferatu Witch... The Little Grandmother... The Terror of Russia..." The Vampire giggled once again and he placed down his wine glass. "But alas... She died. Oh the carnage that followed was a beautiful display! Red paint upon the white canvas! Russia..."

The Malkavian Primogen clapped his hands and the waiter brought the most awaited fillet mignon and the steak. Silvanus speared through one of the prepared slices with his fork and he brought it in his mouth to chew. "Such flavors... Hundreds of years ago, the only taste we had are smoke and the wild spices..." He then stared at the ornate clock on the wall which read four in the morning. "Why did I think that you're lying?" Silvanus leaned in closer and whispered. "I heard you speak..." He leaned back on his seat and ate another slice. "Be careful, Kostya... Peer not deeper into the abyss... Disturb not the Web... Or the spiders will get you..."

The Mother-Dragon

Simone was enchanted by his surroundings, as the Mother-Dragon expected he would be. Smiling thoughtfully, she walked next to him, and looked around her at all of the pearls. "...This place is...my home, Simone..." she explained softly, "...I was given this place by Lord Endymion...as a private home, a very long time ago...Here, I keep all of the memories of the world. All of the tears of the world...they all exist here. Every truth you've ever wanted to know or see...all of it is here." She walked away, and held a teardrop in her hand. It was large, the size of a tennis ball, and it sparkled softly in her hand, humming happily as it did so.

"...If the truth be told, I have held your tears here...even before Lord Endymion knew you existed...The memories of children have...always been something I have tried to especially protect...because their memories are precious...and children often forget even their happiest memories, as they grow up...but I have made sure, whatever unhappiness has come to your life...here, you may re-discover your happiness!..." Her smile was a soft, shy one, almost an anxious one, as she wondered what Simone would think of such a place. "...Do you like this, little one?" she inquired, her voice becoming slightly timid and uncertain. She was generally not allowed to show this to anyone, but Simone was special. As a young Mage who needed to know someone watched over him, nothing seemingly could be better than to know their tears have been protected carefully by one of Lord Endymion's favorite servants.

Epeoisa

Epeoisa followed him inside, and examined her surroundings once again. Having only been there for a day, she was sure there were beautiful things she had missed, when she had first entered the world of the Mage, and indeed she was right. When she looked near the wall next to the door, she noticed an enormous painting of a winter scene. While Astorias went into the kitchen to make the cookies, she stared at this painting and studied it. Rustic and lonely, a pretty cabin in the woods was surrounded by tall, majestic trees that glared toward the viewer. The blue-and-purple overcast sky, and the cold-looking lake, also created the feeling of a silent, undisturbed winter. Yet the single person in the painting especially caught her eye. Though they were painted like a small blur, they seemed in reality to be the center of the painting, the single piece that made the puzzle look truly lonely...

Eventually, she was drawn back to reality by the warm, homely smell of cookies, and she hurried over to Astorias when he returned to the living room. She sat down with him, getting a cup of milk and some cookies, and she ate along with him. The cookies were warm and gooey, and pleasureably-sweet, and the milk was perfectly cold. Yet her mind could not come away from the massive painting. "...Ah...Um...Sir? Where did you get that painting on the wall?...The one by the door?" she questioned, nodding to it. "...My dad said he knew all of the paintings in the world, but I've never seen that one..." she explained.

Mikhailov

"Oh don't worry...I know all of the tales...I learned them myself, actually...It's funny how the cold, deadly winter can produce such unnerving tales of creatures lurking in the darkness...And then how they miss the most interesting ones..." He took a bite out of his steak, which was indeed quite good, and he chuckled. "...I actually worked for the USSR for some time...I got to watch some of that blood spill personally...It can be messy...but invigorating. Especially when you don't have to get your own hands dirty. I'm sure you know what I mean..." Silvanus's talk of avoiding knowledge, however, only amused him. The spiders? Certainly, they might arrive to take him, but Mikhailov was not necessarily scared of spiders. Thus, he only chuckled louder. "...As for avoiding such as the spiders in the web...Well...I'm already caught in a web, aren't I?...But I understand...You will show me what I need to know then...How does that sound?...You may be my greatest teacher, if you so wish..."

[Finsternia]

Simone de Angelo

"Your home..." Simone looked around at the cave's glimmering crystals and the vast number of pearls. Each and every pearl that is in here belongs to all the children of Earth, and even those who were once children. Small pearls were everywhere and even pearls the size of an ostrich's egg. The young mage looked at the pearl that he was craddling, the rainbow colored lights of the crystals shining on the smooth silver surface. If he would focus intently, he could peer into the memories of what's inside. It was a birthday party of a girl around the age of four to six. A crowd was behind her, cheering her up as they sang the traditional happy birthday song, as she was wishing upon the small gleeful candles that are placed on the soft colorful cake. She blew the candles, the resulting smoke fogging up the memory until it ended.

Simone placed back the pearl and looked at the Mother Dragon. "I would like to remember... the happiest moment of my childhood..."

Sage Astorias

Astorias drank some of the milk in his glass, quenching his thirst and the dryness of his throat, before speaking. "I would assume that Lord Endymion is one savant artist?" The old man made a hearty laugh before looking at the old painting with eyes that looked back in the past. "This painting is no ordinary painting, my dear... It is not just a painting, but a Painted World."

He reached towards the pile of cookies and chewed on one. "The Painted World of the Archmaster Agatha. She was one of my colleagues and even my mentor during my first Archmastery years. She was a proud and strong woman, a warrior, a healer, a mother. But as time went on, the Collective Unconscious of the Earth knows she is too powerful and is an irregularity in the "normalcy" or reality. So she started painting her world. She thought that painting it would be a great idea. She knew that humans found value in art. Art, like music, speaks to the soul. It needs no language, it needs no tongue, but the heart, mind, and soul."

"When she finished the painting, she left the protection of it to me. She left me these final words..."

"Craddle the weak and tired and abandoned like you once and have always done... When the entire world turns them down, lead them to the Painting so that I could give them rest... Farewell, Astorias, and lead the children into a bright future..."

"That was more than three hundred years ago. I've made sure that the Painting is maintained closely. I've never set a foot on its cold snows since I journeyed into Arcadia. A few years ago when I bought this property, this place became its new home. Here it seats in the dining room where it could see my adopted children be happy and share their woes with their cups and food. Where Agatha would like it to be."

Silvanus

"Dear Kostya, there will always be things that people should never know... But Enlightenment is the desire of Clan Malkavian... Worry not, I shall take my time educating your frail human mind..." Silvanus finished his blood wine in an instant as he repeatedly looked at the tickling clock. "Do heed my warning, peer not once again into the Web. Do you understand?" The Malkavian whispered, staring deep down into Mikhailov's eyes with maddening eyes of bright and lustrous green. "You will learn many great things under my tutelage. But if you do betray me..." The visage of Silvanus changed ever so slightly. His gigantic scar that slashed across his face vanished and his mesmerizing chartreuse eyes started to fade into a blind and silver color as he dug into Mikhailov's subconscious and took form a forgotten enemy. "It would be my grandest pleasure to educate you."

The other patrons of the restaurant took terrible and nightmarish forms. Their mouths turned into monstrous gaping holes filled with irregular and jagged teeth. From their backs sprung eight appendages, black with blood and other fluids. They squirmed and waved in the air like grotesque spider like legs. The worst thing is that they are laughing. They are laughing in a serene and kind voice. A voice that Mikhailov knew all too well.

The illusion dropped abruptly with Silvanus' plate empty. He was talking to the waiter and giving the young lad a gracious tip. The Primogen, who looked like what he was originally, turned to Mikhailov and smiled. "Do well remember, Kostya." He stood up and started walking, not before stopping at the restaurant's door and looking at the clock. "Dawn is upon us."

The Next Night, 9:00 PM

A young ancillae is strapped upon a queer looking table. Strapped isn't even the right word. Bones that looked like ribs grabbed at his arms, legs, and neck. Blood vessels are attached to various parts of his body like macabre tubes that provided and removed precious vitae out of his body. The entire table is a living, flesh and bonecrafted being. The Operating Table as Silvanus and other vampires have called it. Silvanus was at hard work, experimenting at hypothetical procedures upon the fully conscious vampire that has been trying to scream but cannot due to its missing mouth. It was a Sabbat vampire and it was unfortunate enough to run into the insane Primogen of Clan Malkavian.

The female Malkavian slipped inside carrying the marked letter. Silvanus was on the process of removing the heart when he was interrupted. "Dragon of Silver... Crownless Theodora has procured some words for you." A bloody hand slapped on the girl's mouth as soon as she said the words. Silvanus looked around the room for a moment before speaking. "Speak those words carefully next time, Cassandra. You might end up like this one." The female Malkavian could only nod and bow at Silvanus before rushing out of the room.

Silvanus patted the Operating Table and some blood vessels started sucking on the blood that coated his hand like some biological vacuum cleaner. When it was done, he looked at the Tremere Crest with a troubled expression before cracking down the wax. He took the letter into his hands and skimmed on the elegant writing. Slowly he tore the paper, threw it inside the tortured vampire's open and ruptured abdomen, and added a drop of his vitae. He then walked out of the room, leaving the pieces of paper and the poor vampire to burn.

Silvanus barged in Mikhailov's room without any warning or so, well dressed in a black, red, and white business attire. He adjusted his red necktie for a bit and stared down at the mage. "Dear Kostya. The Prince sent orders for us. We were to meet the Eastern demons and strike a deal and then deal with the Sabbat cockroaches down South. She has great expectations, especially for you."

[Luminesa]

Simone de Angelo

"Your home..." Simone looked around at the cave's glimmering crystals and the vast number of pearls. Each and every pearl that is in here belongs to all the children of Earth, and even those who were once children. Small pearls were everywhere and even pearls the size of an ostrich's egg. The young mage looked at the pearl that he was craddling, the rainbow colored lights of the crystals shining on the smooth silver surface. If he would focus intently, he could peer into the memories of what's inside. It was a birthday party of a girl around the age of four to six. A crowd was behind her, cheering her up as they sang the traditional happy birthday song, as she was wishing upon the small gleeful candles that are placed on the soft colorful cake. She blew the candles, the resulting smoke fogging up the memory until it ended.

Simone placed back the pearl and looked at the Mother Dragon. "I would like to remember... the happiest moment of my childhood..."

Sage Astorias

Astorias drank some of the milk in his glass, quenching his thirst and the dryness of his throat, before speaking. "I would assume that Lord Endymion is one savant artist?" The old man made a hearty laugh before looking at the old painting with eyes that looked back in the past. "This painting is no ordinary painting, my dear... It is not just a painting, but a Painted World."

He reached towards the pile of cookies and chewed on one. "The Painted World of the Archmaster Agatha. She was one of my colleagues and even my mentor during my first Archmastery years. She was a proud and strong woman, a warrior, a healer, a mother. But as time went on, the Collective Unconscious of the Earth knows she is too powerful and is an irregularity in the "normalcy" or reality. So she started painting her world. She thought that painting it would be a great idea. She knew that humans found value in art. Art, like music, speaks to the soul. It needs no language, it needs no tongue, but the heart, mind, and soul."

"When she finished the painting, she left the protection of it to me. She left me these final words..."

"Craddle the weak and tired and abandoned like you once and have always done... When the entire world turns them down, lead them to the Painting so that I could give them rest... Farewell, Astorias, and lead the children into a bright future..."

"That was more than three hundred years ago. I've made sure that the Painting is maintained closely. I've never set a foot on its cold snows since I journeyed into Arcadia. A few years ago when I bought this property, this place became its new home. Here it seats in the dining room where it could see my adopted children be happy and share their woes with their cups and food. Where Agatha would like it to be."

Silvanus

"Dear Kostya, there will always be things that people should never know... But Enlightenment is the desire of Clan Malkavian... Worry not, I shall take my time educating your frail human mind..." Silvanus finished his blood wine in an instant as he repeatedly looked at the tickling clock. "Do heed my warning, peer not once again into the Web. Do you understand?" The Malkavian whispered, staring deep down into Mikhailov's eyes with maddening eyes of bright and lustrous green. "You will learn many great things under my tutelage. But if you do betray me..." The visage of Silvanus changed ever so slightly. His gigantic scar that slashed across his face vanished and his mesmerizing chartreuse eyes started to fade into a blind and silver color as he dug into Mikhailov's subconscious and took form a forgotten enemy. "It would be my grandest pleasure to educate you."

The other patrons of the restaurant took terrible and nightmarish forms. Their mouths turned into monstrous gaping holes filled with irregular and jagged teeth. From their backs sprung eight appendages, black with blood and other fluids. They squirmed and waved in the air like grotesque spider like legs. The worst thing is that they are laughing. They are laughing in a serene and kind voice. A voice that Mikhailov knew all too well.

The illusion dropped abruptly with Silvanus' plate empty. He was talking to the waiter and giving the young lad a gracious tip. The Primogen, who looked like what he was originally, turned to Mikhailov and smiled. "Do well remember, Kostya." He stood up and started walking, not before stopping at the restaurant's door and looking at the clock. "Dawn is upon us."

The Next Night, 9:00 PM

A young ancillae is strapped upon a queer looking table. Strapped isn't even the right word. Bones that looked like ribs grabbed at his arms, legs, and neck. Blood vessels are attached to various parts of his body like macabre tubes that provided and removed precious vitae out of his body. The entire table is a living, flesh and bonecrafted being. The Operating Table as Silvanus and other vampires have called it. Silvanus was at hard work, experimenting at hypothetical procedures upon the fully conscious vampire that has been trying to scream but cannot due to its missing mouth. It was a Sabbat vampire and it was unfortunate enough to run into the insane Primogen of Clan Malkavian.

The female Malkavian slipped inside carrying the marked letter. Silvanus was on the process of removing the heart when he was interrupted. "Dragon of Silver... Crownless Theodora has procured some words for you." A bloody hand slapped on the girl's mouth as soon as she said the words. Silvanus looked around the room for a moment before speaking. "Speak those words carefully next time, Cassandra. You might end up like this one." The female Malkavian could only nod and bow at Silvanus before rushing out of the room.

Silvanus patted the Operating Table and some blood vessels started sucking on the blood that coated his hand like some biological vacuum cleaner. When it was done, he looked at the Tremere Crest with a troubled expression before cracking down the wax. He took the letter into his hands and skimmed on the elegant writing. Slowly he tore the paper, threw it inside the tortured vampire's open and ruptured abdomen, and added a drop of his vitae. He then walked out of the room, leaving the pieces of paper and the poor vampire to burn.

Silvanus barged in Mikhailov's room without any warning or so, well dressed in a black, red, and white business attire. He adjusted his red necktie for a bit and stared down at the mage. "Dear Kostya. The Prince sent orders for us. We were to meet the Eastern demons and strike a deal and then deal with the Sabbat cockroaches down South. She has great expectations, especially for you."

Mother-Dragon

"...Yes!...Your happiest memory...I shall find it, if you give me a moment, little one..." The Mother-Dragon was quite happy at the sight of Simone's peaceable, happy gaze, and she wanted to continue making him happy. When she finished speaking, she bowed her head, and clasped her hands together, as though in prayer. A tear fell from the corner of each eye, and when they hit the ground, they formed a circle of light around her. She mumbled something under her breath once again, and then a single pearl formed out of the light around her. She had summoned it from the depths of the cavern, and now it showed itself to both of them.

When she finished summoning it, she opened her eyes, and held out her hands. The pearl floated down into them, and the Mother-Dragon cradled it lovingly for a moment. "...The Magic of Compassion...and specifically, the spell of Tears, are very powerful forms of Magic...If those who exist forget their tears...they will forget how to have Compassion...and how to Love...And when they forget how to Love, it is as Lord Endymion says...that is how destruction occurs...Simone...as you learn to use your Magic, I must beg of you...Please, never let the pain that comes keep you from loving...You must cherish this Tear, and use it to love others...Can you promise me that?"

With that, she let go of the tear, and it floated over to Simone. It hummed softly, and then timidly fell into his hands, as though it recognized its owner. The Mother-Dragon continued to stand in the circle, and smiled softly at the young Mage. Lord Endymion forcing him into trying to embrace his Inner Form had been too much. Perhaps this way, which was much softer and sweeter, would help Simone in the long run.

Epeiosa

"...'A Painted World'..." Epeiosa was mesmerized by the idea that one could create a living world with paint and magic. She listened attentively to the story of Agatha, even forgetting a bit that she had a plate of cookies in front of her. Here was the woman who had taught Astorias everything he knew. A powerful Elder of unknown and mystifying power, who had used her skills to protect the weak, and to pass her wisdom to those who needed it. She only wished she could go into the world in the painting to meet the woman, and she turned for a moment toward the painting, as Astorias described it. "...I...wish I could meet her...I'd love to learn that kind of Magic...but I would guess that's kind of advanced, isn't it?" she inquired.

Mikhailov

Those eyes. They changed yet again, only this time, they took the form of someone he knew all too well. He frowned slightly, as he recognized the face, though he said nothing and merely cocked his head. Then he looked around, and saw massive, spider-like appendages, tearing through the clothing of patrons and squirming grotesquely in the air. Peoples' faces transformed into the stuff of nightmares, and yet they all laughed in a very soft, kind tone, as though they were only teasing him. Trying not to pay too much attention to them, he turned back to Silvanus. If he reached out to touch that face in front of him, would he respond in the same way? He went to do so, and then just before he touched his face, he stopped and quietly pulled back. No...no, this was only a vision. Smoke in a mirror. Silvanus would not respond with that soft, surprised gasp that came when one touched that person on the cheek. That innocent, almost-childlike stare that worried they would be slapped.

He narrowed his eyes. "...I see...You know, then, what I am...or at least part of what I am..." He closed his eyes to the visage, sighing quietly and remaining collected. He knew that soon, this vision would end, and Silvanus would act as though nothing had happened. He was an enigma in that way, both entirely aware of his distorting abilities and also unaware of his effect on Mikhailov. "...I will obey you, then...and I only ask that you hold that secret to yourself...Those eyes...those eyes that I thought I would never see again..." His voice was a monotone, subservient and cautious, but he also seemed to be struck, in an odd way, when he saw that face sitting across from him. When the vision ended, however, he quickly tried to forget it had happened, and he followed Silvanus out the door silently.

The Next Night

Mikhailov remained in his room, studying various journals and notes, while Silvanus operated on a Sabbat in a room nearby. "Operated" was a loose definition, of course, as the Malkavian was very obviously torturing him. In the meantime, a young secretary walked in and spoke some words to Silvanus. Whatever she had said angered the unstable vampire, and he smacked her across the face. He then came to Mikhailov, throwing open his door to get his attention. The Mage turned and looked up at him, smiling wryly as he ordered him to come along. He stood, wearing a t-shirt and slacks, and nodded. "...Give me a moment, Lord Silvanus. I am afraid my appearance is not appropriate for such a meeting. He then walked to his closet, turning his back on the vampire, and taking his shirt off as he grabbed a dress-shirt. If he looked at his left shoulder-blade, Silvanus would see an odd feature: a small tattoo of a set of Egyptian hieroglyphics that spelled a name. This was quickly covered by a light-blue dress-shirt, and so one would only be able to wonder what that little hint was.

He then put on a royal-blue tie, lifting his hair behind his neck as he did so. Here, Silvanus would briefly see another tattoo, that of a turquoise Eye of Horus. This disappeared beneath the tie and the collar, and then beneath the lab-coat Mikhailov put on. He then tied his hair back, put on his shoes, and walked over to Silvanus. That same quiet, docile smile, as usual was printed on his face. "...Excellent!...Shall we go, then? It seems we have a busy night ahead of us!" he suggested, cheerfully. He then added softly, "I will be sure to not disappoint. In fact, I will exceed all expectations. Do not worry for me. I am aware of my capabilities."

[Dragos Bee]

((Collaboration Post between Dragos Bee and Finsternia))

Flashback


Simone stood in front of tens, if not hundreds, of people. They wore weird looking clothes, especially the older ones, but some wore perfectly modern styles. His hands were cuffed with magical links of iron and steel. They were faintly glowing with an alluring light, a turquoise and sky blue mix. The young, and unaware, mage looked down at the marble floors. He can hear them all talk in hushed voices and he can feel their piercing gazes. He can't remember much how he got here. He was walking home when suddenly everything went black. When he woke up, he was chained in a dark room where two hooded people looked over him silently for over an hour, never bulging and answering when he shouted at them for answers.

One of the people stood up and pounded his hands on his table. "Clearly, this lad had done quite some damage on the Tapestry! Who knows how much subtle Paradoxes he had incured?!" The mages started to whisper again, the hushing harsher now to the ears. "Aye aye! This boy's done quite enough! Tampering with his fate!" More hushed voices clattered, there were faint arguments to the proposed accusations. An elderly woman looked towards the first speaker and then down to Simone. "Look at the child! A poor, small, shrivelled thing! You've kidnapped him and what do you propose?! Kill him?! Torture him?! Ha! Nicholas, despite being such a great mage you're a demented dolt! He's not even trained properly by the looks of it!"

From one of the stands, a red-headed man with green eyes and a messy ponytail got up and glared at Nicholas while straightening his carpenter's clothes, and said: "Stop shaming your own Order with this insistence on punishment. Orphans - People with Magic who haven't been found by other People with Magic -" he looked kindly towards Simone then; it was clear that the explanation was for the kid, "- are a documented occurence. While we and the Guardians have had our differences, I have always heard stories of the reasonable ones who conducted an investigation first, killed later."

A new voice broke in, that of a younger-looking man with messy black hair, an orange shirt, and tan vest. "I was the one who gave Reynard those stories. I have worked with your order before and have respect for them. But I will say that your predecessor would not have executed this child, and so no one here will execute him either."

This young-looking man glowed with a white outline that grew brighter, then dimmer, then brighter again with each word. Ascot Sky/Brightwing, the Archmaster returned from the Aether itself with a new body, spoke with firmness unseen in most people of his apparent age. He then went down from his seat and vaulted over the partition seperating the spectators from the prisoner, making his way to Simone's side.

"Reynard, come with me; we are challenging anyone who seeks to end this farce of a trial with an execution to a pre-emptive Duel Arcane." With a surprised nod, Reynard vaulted through the partition as well, and went to Ascot and Simone's side.

One of the younger mages applauded the two and smiled towards their direction. "Preach brothers! Down with the old, rusty, and stinky patriarchy!" Nicholas wasn't that happy with the Archmaster's show of bravery. The other old mage, named Perenilla, applauded silently too as she gave a mocking smirk. "What do you want from this child, Nicholas? A brilliant and self proclaimed Archmaster like you shouldn't really mind such slights? But alas, all you had is the southern wind blowing out of your behind!"

There were glances and looks amongst the crown and their voices started to argue once again.

"Just like Nicholas have said, who knows what damages have this child have done?"

"Indeed! Do you know how destructive the power of Fate is when it is placed upon an unknowing and untrained child?!"

"Nonsense! You Albertos! When you were once a Novice like him, have you even known which is the spoon and which is the fork?"

"Hypocrites!"

"You ignorants will just endanger all of the Awakened!"

Simone looked at Ascot and Reynard with tear filled eyes. Even with all these people judging him for whatever crime he made, there were still a few who stood in defense. He muttered a low and stressed thank you, sniffing and catching his breath from all the crying. "Enough! We have enough evidence! He influenced the lives of those around him! How can we even return things to what they were once with all these subtle changes?!"

A lone and hunched over man opened the great doors of the room. He was carrying a staff twice the size of his shrunken old body. The Sage looked around and tapped his pole on the floor, calling the attention of the other mages. "As soon as I've come back, there's already problems. What is the meaning of this?" Nicholas looked down at Astorias and pointed an angry finger at the three. "This child have been using magic without care! And these two upstarts are siding with him! The traditional punishment is death!"

"And have I smashed your face with a seventy kilometer wide meteor when you caused all those Paradoxes back in 1941 Peru? No?" Astorias looked up at Ascot and Reynard and nodded with respect. "I, Astorias, Archmaster of Prime, will take the lad under my tutelage. Those who would oppose my decision to give the boy a second chance and compassion that he dearly deserves, speak your thoughts." When Nicholas tried to stand up from his seat, Astorias slammed his staff on the ground, churning up a great earthquake that lasted as long as how fast it appeared. "Anyone else who are against my decision? No?" The Sage sighed and walked behind the uninitiated Mage, held the magical chains, and broke them by crushing them with his grip. "Do not fear, my dear. I bear no ill will for you."

Reynald then used Matter and Life to create...an ice cream cone, strawberry, and offer it to Simone. "Here, take this; the sugar will help calm your nerves."

"You do realize you sound creepy just now, right?" Ascot said, "A 28-year old man offering a kid candy? You should be ashamed of yourself as you already have me."

"Oh, come on now," Reynard smiled, catching on to the reason Ascot was in a bickering mood, "You know I'll always be faithful to you!"

"Really now? Because you should know I took on this form in my return from the Supernal just for you," Ascot deliberately exaggerated his petulant pout in order to entertain Simone. Turning towards the younger boy, he held out his hand, saying: "I'm Ascot, this is Reynald, and our former master here is Astorias. He's a fine person despite not taking Aquinas' 'Faith and Reason are two sides of the same coin; therefore any contradiction between them is an illusion' thing to its natural conclusion."

"That's siding with reason when it's proven that certain...interpretations of faith cause more harm than good. Although why people just don't accept that organized religion is a mite bit complicated and unwieldly is beyond me..." Reynald clarified, he normally would not argue like a married couple in front of the staunchly Catholic Astorias, or remind the elder Archmaster that he was Agnostic, but it was to take Simone's mind off his torments, so the Jesuit would forgive...right?

"Don't go too far, Rey," Ascot visibly facepalmed, trying to play the part of 'The Comically Serious'. He flashed a smile towards Simone; was it working? Oh, and his hand was still extended towards the young Acanthus.

Simone accepted Reynard's cone with a tad of reluctance but he slowly gained some trust towards the three mages. In his eyes, they were like legendary heroes in front of him. They were mages too! Real mages! He still couldn't believe it! He always dreamed to be like one and know he is! Astorias turned towards Reynard and laughed. "Reynard, that's the reason why the Church exists! We are here in this world to interpret God's words! Any harm that has been done by the very people of Christ is not the fault of the Trinity but the human person. I do confess that I have seen, and even done, atrocities in the name of the Faith but I confess that it was done on blind devotion. And don't talk about Aquinas in my presence! How I loathed studying his works when I was in the monastery!"

The young mage watched with great admiration as the triad made jokes and such. It seems like he already zoned out. The sound of palm hitting the face brought Simone out of his fanboy world and turned towards Ascot. He gingerly held the other's hand and shook it with nervousness. "I-I'm Simone... Th-Thank you for defending me..." He looked at the three once more and made a gasp. "I still can't believe it... Magic is real..."

"It is," spoke Ascot, "But also very dangerous. Anyway, it was nothing; I actually did a background check into your circumstances. Have you ever thought of going to the cops?"

"Or if you like," spoke Reynard, who was still offering the ice cream cone "we can do some vigilante-ing; I can probably transmute anyone who abuses you into a pile of sa -" Ascot slapped the back of Reynard's head.

"Just offer him the ice cream cone; and when I am the one offended by your suggestions, you should stop," Ascot clearly demonstrated that he was Reynard's senior in authority though not in apparent age.

Simone looked down at his ice cream with slight discomfort. The Sage sighed and spared the two a sharp glance. "Now that is enough, you two."

"N-No no... It's fine... But I... It's fine... Despite all the problems happening, I try to understand the circumstances..." His ice cream was slowly melting and the soft vanilla swirl started dripping down from his hand.

"But thank you... For helping me..."

Astorias looked at Simone with a frown and then towards his old students. "Perhaps you two could bring Simone back to his home? Make sure that he can go home safe and sound."

Ascot nodded. "We will."

Reynard said, "We won't let any harm come to him."

Ascot then looked at Simone, and kindly smiled: "Anyway, Rey here can make more ice cream just before we go on our way, and I can subtly make sure that it doesn't melt..."

[Finsternia]

Simone de Angelo

Simone accepted the pearl from the Mother Dragon and looked at it with curious eyes. It was a small thing, almost like a droplet of water, yet it calls to him. It's drawing him close, like a magnet would do to fillings of iron, and he felt strings played within his chest. Closing his hands around the pearl, Simone placed it close to his heart where it started glowing a fierce white. Slowly it gained strength until it was a starburst of light and from the light were Simone's signature memory clips.

It was a summer morning. The air is crisp and with it was the scent of mornings and the rain that has fallen last night. A woman with long, bouncy, and wavy hair held the hand of an infant learning his first steps. The child looked both fearful and joyful at the same time, gurgling and shrieking as he placed one foot after the other. Camera flashes were here and there as a tall man with caramel colored eyes and a sharp cut jawline captured this monumentary memory. Yes, this is Simone's happiest memory. It was the memory of his first steps as he was aided by his still living mother. It was the memory where his father still held the flame of living on within his heart and soul. It was the image of a hopeful and perfect family. Yet all know that there is nothing perfect in this world of black and greys and darker greys.

His father lost his flame when his mother died. Buried in debt, moving from workplace to workplace, coming home with the stench of alcohol and the stains of bright red lipstick. Soon enough, his step mother showed with her eyes looking at nothing but money, money, money alone.

The light faded away and so did the fluttering films. Simone was shaking. Tears are dropping from his tightly shut eyes and streamed down his cheeks before, magically as it didn't mix with the surrounding waters at first, melting into the seawater. "Mama... Papa..." He kept on repeating, the pearl still to his chest like a child's dear teddy bear.

Sage Astorias

"It is indeed a hard to do spell. Creating a Painted Word... needs sacrifices." He turned towards the Painting and sighed. "Agatha wasn't just a savior. She was also a warrior. The Dragonslayer, that was what she was called. She knew that she needed an everlasting pigment, for if it isn't then the Painting shall rot away. Thus she hunted one of the few remaining corporeal dragons, an Everlasting one, and it's bright red and smoking blood was mixed with the golden ichor of an angel. Blood is the pigment, the sacrifice needed to be paid for a world like this."

Silvanus

Silvanus squinted his eyes as his new partner started to change his clothes in front of him. Hieroglyphs. The ancient language of Pharoahs. The scribblings of the old writers of Egypt. The tongue of the Setites. His aura flared for a bit, showing off some tension before subsiding. Mikhailov couldn't be a spy or an underling for the Followers of Set, right? Surely a mage wouldn't lower himself down to that level...

But this is a human. An easily tempted thing, a fickle thing. When his eyes laid upon the Eye of Horus, Silvanus' suspicions are getting ahead of himself. Why would the Setites plant the seeds of corruption upon the barren and wasted land of a Malkavian? They should have been madder and crazier than Silvanus to actually think that a Lunatic could be bribed and brought down to the deeps of vices and unspeakable things. Silvanus couldn't help but giggle for a bit. 'If you are what you are... I'll truly have fun...'

He then bursted into a loud 'ah-HA!' before running out of Mikhailov's room. Mere seconds later, he returned with a rose, its petals edged with sheer blackness that looked like burns. But the flower itself looked healthy and vibrant. Silvanus walked over to Mikhailov and pinned it within his coat's front pocket where the handerchief should be placed. "Beautiful... Worry not, Kostya. It's just something to loosen the tongues of our friends... Like sweet summer wine..." The vampire suddenly whirled around and grabbed Mikhailov's wrist with overwhelming strength. "We are getting late! Faster! Faster! Faster!"

China Town Temple

The limousine parked in front of the temple's great gates and Silvanus stepped out. He looks different. His hair is a sheer black, trimmed in a short clean looking cut. His face looks sharper and more pronounced like his cheekbones, nose, and eyebrows. The large scar across his face was gone but a new scar popped up which is a small horizontal cut over his right eye. He spent a few minutes warping his flesh in the limousine during their ride, laughing maniacly as he pulled and twisted his own bones, flesh and skin. The three neonates from the other night formed behind him and Mikhailov like bodyguards as they approached the temple. His eyes, which were now a mismatch of blue and brown, bore down upon one of the Kuei-Jin guards, analyzing the Eastern Vampire with Auspex. "Take me to your figurehead. Her Grace, Prince Anna, wishes... no... decrees and desires to exchange some words with your... pitiful and lowly breed." His mannerisms and way of speech changed too. It was as if this isn't Silvanus but another different person. Atleast the whispers were still there, like subconscious nibblings at one's sanity.

[Luminesa]

Simone de Angelo

Simone accepted the pearl from the Mother Dragon and looked at it with curious eyes. It was a small thing, almost like a droplet of water, yet it calls to him. It's drawing him close, like a magnet would do to fillings of iron, and he felt strings played within his chest. Closing his hands around the pearl, Simone placed it close to his heart where it started glowing a fierce white. Slowly it gained strength until it was a starburst of light and from the light were Simone's signature memory clips.

It was a summer morning. The air is crisp and with it was the scent of mornings and the rain that has fallen last night. A woman with long, bouncy, and wavy hair held the hand of an infant learning his first steps. The child looked both fearful and joyful at the same time, gurgling and shrieking as he placed one foot after the other. Camera flashes were here and there as a tall man with caramel colored eyes and a sharp cut jawline captured this monumentary memory. Yes, this is Simone's happiest memory. It was the memory of his first steps as he was aided by his still living mother. It was the memory where his father still held the flame of living on within his heart and soul. It was the image of a hopeful and perfect family. Yet all know that there is nothing perfect in this world of black and greys and darker greys.

His father lost his flame when his mother died. Buried in debt, moving from workplace to workplace, coming home with the stench of alcohol and the stains of bright red lipstick. Soon enough, his step mother showed with her eyes looking at nothing but money, money, money alone.

The light faded away and so did the fluttering films. Simone was shaking. Tears are dropping from his tightly shut eyes and streamed down his cheeks before, magically as it didn't mix with the surrounding waters at first, melting into the seawater. "Mama... Papa..." He kept on repeating, the pearl still to his chest like a child's dear teddy bear.

Sage Astorias

"It is indeed a hard to do spell. Creating a Painted Word... needs sacrifices." He turned towards the Painting and sighed. "Agatha wasn't just a savior. She was also a warrior. The Dragonslayer, that was what she was called. She knew that she needed an everlasting pigment, for if it isn't then the Painting shall rot away. Thus she hunted one of the few remaining corporeal dragons, an Everlasting one, and it's bright red and smoking blood was mixed with the golden ichor of an angel. Blood is the pigment, the sacrifice needed to be paid for a world like this."

Silvanus

Silvanus squinted his eyes as his new partner started to change his clothes in front of him. Hieroglyphs. The ancient language of Pharoahs. The scribblings of the old writers of Egypt. The tongue of the Setites. His aura flared for a bit, showing off some tension before subsiding. Mikhailov couldn't be a spy or an underling for the Followers of Set, right? Surely a mage wouldn't lower himself down to that level...

But this is a human. An easily tempted thing, a fickle thing. When his eyes laid upon the Eye of Horus, Silvanus' suspicions are getting ahead of himself. Why would the Setites plant the seeds of corruption upon the barren and wasted land of a Malkavian? They should have been madder and crazier than Silvanus to actually think that a Lunatic could be bribed and brought down to the deeps of vices and unspeakable things. Silvanus couldn't help but giggle for a bit. 'If you are what you are... I'll truly have fun...'

He then bursted into a loud 'ah-HA!' before running out of Mikhailov's room. Mere seconds later, he returned with a rose, its petals edged with sheer blackness that looked like burns. But the flower itself looked healthy and vibrant. Silvanus walked over to Mikhailov and pinned it within his coat's front pocket where the handerchief should be placed. "Beautiful... Worry not, Kostya. It's just something to loosen the tongues of our friends... Like sweet summer wine..." The vampire suddenly whirled around and grabbed Mikhailov's wrist with overwhelming strength. "We are getting late! Faster! Faster! Faster!"

China Town Temple

The limousine parked in front of the temple's great gates and Silvanus stepped out. He looks different. His hair is a sheer black, trimmed in a short clean looking cut. His face looks sharper and more pronounced like his cheekbones, nose, and eyebrows. The large scar across his face was gone but a new scar popped up which is a small horizontal cut over his right eye. He spent a few minutes warping his flesh in the limousine during their ride, laughing maniacly as he pulled and twisted his own bones, flesh and skin. The three neonates from the other night formed behind him and Mikhailov like bodyguards as they approached the temple. His eyes, which were now a mismatch of blue and brown, bore down upon one of the Kuei-Jin guards, analyzing the Eastern Vampire with Auspex. "Take me to your figurehead. Her Grace, Prince Anna, wishes... no... decrees and desires to exchange some words with your... pitiful and lowly breed." His mannerisms and way of speech changed too. It was as if this isn't Silvanus but another different person. Atleast the whispers were still there, like subconscious nibblings at one's sanity.

Mother-Dragon

The Mother-Dragon watched as Simone re-lived his happiest memory. In it, a small child, barely an infant, took his first steps with his mother. His mother was a beautiful, sweet woman, with long wavy hair and a gentle smile, who guided her child carefully as he toddled in the soft, fresh grass. Nearby, filming the event, was a man that the Mother-Dragon had seen in many other memories, but never in such a happy memory as this. As he held the camera, he was just as happy as his wife and his child, his eyes sparkling with life and love. That sparkle, as both Simone and the Mother-Dragon knew, had died when the man's wife had died, and he had never truly found a way to fill that hole. In his frustration, he hurt his only child, and he destroyed himself.

The memory ended, and Simone was left cradling the memory in his arms. Such happiness was something he had felt for only a short time, and then never again. He cried for his mother and father, in a way that neither Endymion nor she could ever truly fulfill. Endymion was trying, in his compassion for the boy, to try and make him happy for a short time, but fantasies were merely fantasies, and soon those would end. She thought for a moment, then, as she stood a few feet away and watched Simone cry. When she came to a conclusion, her eyes widened slightly, and then she walked over to the boy and hugged him tightly. She rocked him slightly against her, shifting slowly back-and-forth as though she was trying to get a baby to sleep. "...It is quite alright to cry, little one...Remember, I will always keep your tears...there is no better place to cry than in here, where I can keep them and you safe...And I will help you, so that you will have more happy days...more happy tears that you can cherish, and that I can protect for you..."

Epeiosa

"...B-Blood?!" Epeiosa's eyes widened. She should have known that such beauty came at a high price, as she had guessed many times for her father's own Magic. Yet she never imagined that the beauty that Agatha and Astorias had created could only have come to life through destruction. She stared at him, and then down at her own hands. Was she willing to kill, to create the happy world she wanted to make? What would Astorias think, if he found the world she made and discovered she had killed things to make it? What would Endymion think?...Endymion would be proud. He did not care about killing, as long as it served the purpose of helping her hone her powers as a Fae. He could hardly care for any life beside those of himself and the members of his own realm. And yet she was afraid. Something told her that killing for such a purpose would not come easily to her. Tears welled in her eyes. "...S-Sir...I-I don't know...if I can kill...What would I kill?...A-And why?...H-How could I kill anything...wh-when...when there are so many creatures that want to be loved?...I-I...I don't know..." Her voice broke, and she put her face in her hands, her tears tinkling like shattered glass through her fingers and onto the ground.

Mikhailov - Before Leaving

"...You need not stare at me, Lord Silvanus...It makes me slightly nervous," Mikhailov commented, as he sensed Silvanus eyeing him from behind. Of course, the Mage was not nervous, but he did enjoy making himself look vulnerable. If he did otherwise outside of a fight, his facade just might drop, and that would be more dangerous than appearing vulnerable could ever be. "...I apologize for the unsightly body-art, if that is the cause for your distress...Egyptian mythology is interesting, isn't it?...Such a fascination with death and the afterlife...The afterlife is no longer merely the unknown, but just another life to begin...and to never end...Thrilling, isn't it?...Hm?" When he turned around, finally dressed, he noticed that Silvanus had disappeared. He stood still, waiting for him to return with orders, but instead he returned with a rose. The Malkavian pinned it to his shirt, and the Mage lifted a brow at the vampire. "...If you wanted me to be your prom date as well, I would have said yes," he joked, laughing slightly before Silvanus grabbed his arm and dragged him out to the limousine. They did have a meeting to attend, after all.

Mikhailov - In The Limousine

Watching Silvanus change his physical form around in the limousine was an interesting experience. The Malkavian acted as though he was a woman trying-on new outfits at the mall, until they found something they truly liked. The look Silvanus settled for was admittedly very handsome, though as always showing a tinge of insanity. The heterochromed eyes gave him an exotic look, to balance the dark smoothness of his hair and suit. Mikhailov only slightly wished he could do the same thing with himself, to change his form whenever he pleased, but it seemed he was not ready to have this gift yet. Submitting to this understanding, he simply got out the limousine with the vampire, when they arrived at their destination, and he continued his facade. The Mage kept his head down, and remained silent, a sort of somber and empty look on his face. Nobody could suspect him, or else the two of them would both be in danger.

[Malkasabbat]

Simone de Angelo

China Town Temple

The limousine parked in front of the temple's great gates and Silvanus stepped out. He looks different. His hair is a sheer black, trimmed in a short clean looking cut. His face looks sharper and more pronounced like his cheekbones, nose, and eyebrows. The large scar across his face was gone but a new scar popped up which is a small horizontal cut over his right eye. He spent a few minutes warping his flesh in the limousine during their ride, laughing maniacly as he pulled and twisted his own bones, flesh and skin. The three neonates from the other night formed behind him and Mikhailov like bodyguards as they approached the temple. His eyes, which were now a mismatch of blue and brown, bore down upon one of the Kuei-Jin guards, analyzing the Eastern Vampire with Auspex. "Take me to your figurehead. Her Grace, Prince Anna, wishes... no... decrees and desires to exchange some words with your... pitiful and lowly breed." His mannerisms and way of speech changed too. It was as if this isn't Silvanus but another different person. Atleast the whispers were still there, like subconscious nibblings at one's sanity.

The Keui-jin looked at one another for a moment and then back to the stranger, " you can demand and decree just about anything you heart desires my Camarilla friend. However you have been expected, the master is just finishing a bit of business. The temple gates opened up to let in the strangers from the Camarilla, it did not take them very long to respond to a bit of prodding this was more or less good for the greater scheme of things. So far things weren't going to well as far as first impressions but with luck that would change, as they went inside of the the temple it was easy to see the complex was alot larger on the inside than the outside let on.

Mao was just finishing a meeting with one of his men having come back from the dockyards and it was easy to see that he was rather unhappy with the results. "WEREWOLVES! You are telling me that werewolves have taken over the dockyards!" he said rather unhappily. "Give me some time to think on this, get the rest of our men to safty for now I will have to see to this problem in time." he said one of the men from the docks running past the camarilla and his plus 1.

After he was going the envoy was brought in to see the head Kuei-Jin, "Well it seems the Camarilla has finally shown its head, so why has your glorious leader gone around blowing up buildings in my territory? Are you trying to move in on us as well? Maybe perhaps it is the anarchs? Speak your business I am a very busy man today it seems" The Keui-jin grand master was in no mood for games, especially not from an obvious malkavian if the laugh wasn't enough of a tell.

[Dragos Bee]

((Collaboration Post between Fascist Republic of Bermuda and Dragos Bee))

Ascot decided not to follow the Urban Fantasy cliche of suddenly appearing inside Hank Baker's house, and instead asked for a visit to the man; luckily, Reynard worked as a carpenter and Ascot's own Fate magic allowed for one of the FBI agent's wooden chairs (or some other set of furniture) to break at a convinient time. Thus, Reynard got the job of fixing it (this time, it required a few favors from other Mages) and Ascot accompanied him as his assistant. Now, the two Mages were waiting outside Baker's house, so that the FBI Agent can let them in to fix the broken chair...

Hank Baker had not had a very good day thus far. He barely got any sleep after the wild goose chase of the SWAT van, which only turned up more questions than answers, especially since several key traffic cams had mysteriously all broken at around the same time. They had at least gotten a good sketch of the two suspects, which was more than they could say for the string of bloody killings. And then, when he had finally got home, one of his kitchen chairs had broken when he was eating breakfast, which had amused Irene to no end, but was just another annoyance for Baker. It was almost with gritted teeth he opened the front door for the two carpenters who were here to fix the chair. "You two kids here to fix the kitchen chair?" Baker asked, cup of coffee in hand, "Alright, just follow me, and don't touch anything." The foyer was relatively plain, apart from a few fanciful decorations that almost seemed to have come with the house. The kitchen was off to the side, down a hallway, pictures of the years gone by on the wall, from the Irene's and Hank's marriage to graduations to even a picture of a young Baker in his Marine Corps uniform. The kitchen itself wasn't anything to write home about, but he had laid the broken chair in between the counter and the table. "You do anything more than glue it, you take it outside, got it?"

Reynard nodded, and gestured to Ascot to help take the pieces of the chair outside. Once they did so, Reynard began taking out his tools and worked on the chair, leaving Ascot with Hank. Now, how would Ascot handle trying to gain an ally without causing Paradoxes? Well, that was what Legacies (special magical ways of life that grant Attainments, in other words, limited, Paradox-free magic) were for. And Ascot, even before ascending to Archmastery, had, with Rose's help, managed to found a Legacy of his own, one that allowed him to cast several Prime Spells without invoking Paradox. And a significant Prime spell was Words of Truth, which allowed a listener to register a statement as truth if it is based on objective fact...even if there is no other evidence except words.

As Reynard fixed the wrecked chair, Ascot used his Legacy to cast Words of Truth, saying to Hank Baker: "We are very sorry for what we are about to do next." And with impossible speed, Ascot touched Hank's forehead, and the man can feel a surge of energy course through him; when his eyes next opened, he would see the flow of magical energy through the house, in the sky, and through the city. He would also see Ascot shining with a bright, fearsome aura, like a pure white fire that was overwhelming spiritually as well as physically. Ascot would then say more words, which he would register as automatically true:

"We mean no harm, Hank Baker, nor do we wish to endanger your life and your mission. But you are in danger, in danger from forces you do not fully understand. We are here to advise caution, and to help."

Whatever shitty day Baker had been having up to that point had suddenly got flipped upside down by this weird kid's drugs or whatever. "Uh... w-what the hell did you put me on? I'm an Agent of the FBI, and kiddo, you are about to-" and then the kid started speaking. To be honest, it all sounded fairly true to him, hell, he'd had a suspicion he was dealing with something bigger since the first killing, to say nothing of the mysterious fake FBI agent of the day before, and of the van chase last night. "Sure, why not," He said plainly, "Go ahead. We're ripping our hair out for answers at this point. I'll get it all for a report so we can finally make some real progress cracking this case."

Ascot would nod, and continue using Words of Truth: "There is more to this world than meets the eye. Vampires, Werebeasts, Magic-users like me and Rey, and of course, the 'Fair Folk'. And by Fair Folk, I do not mean the sanitized Faries of Disney and Fairy Tales; no, I mean the True Fae, the child-snatching assholes who play with others' lives. These 'True Fae' kidnap people, replace them with 'Fetches', and turn the original into a 'Changeling', yet another type of magical being with magical powers."

He then looked towards Hank. "A True Fae and one of his unwilling - well, at least I hope she was unwilling - minions were behind the murder and the car chase." The words still automatically registered as truth.

"So lemme get this straight... all the bedtime stories I was told as a kid are true, pretty much? Yeah, makes sense." It really didn't, not in Baker's gut, but the threads somehow connected in Baker's concious mind. "See, 'somehow', all relevant traffic cam footage went offline at around the time the truck woulda been in view, so that does lend credence to your idea. This'd also explain how the genetic sample we got from the murder scene is identical to one dating from the 1980s. And it'd explain that scene of a Red Cross van crash: both the driver and passenger were just skeletons in piles of ash, one had a wooden stake through the chest, and the autopsy report said something about elongated canines. This'd also explain why it's so damn hard to track 'em. The LAPD and FBI'll love to hear about this."

"Now comes the hard part," Ascot deactivated Words of Truth for a bit, "You do realize that the public reveal of the Supernatural will cause mass hysteria at best, right? People will demand action, loonies will take advantage of that to turn people against people; and would-be hunters would kill innocent people on mere suspicion. No one would want that; even to solve a mystery or bring one murderer into justice."

As quickly as it had appeared, Hank's little "trip" ended, leaving the FBI agent mostly confused and a little intrigued. "So you're saying I am supposed to keep information from the government's law enforcement agency? Then, what exactly do you propose I do? I'm just one FBI agent, this isn't TV, kid, we don't have infinite resources to pull from even with full support from the higher-ups, to say nothing of some rogue op that will probably land me in prison on my last mission for the Bureau, and probably not even end in a conviction."

Ascot blinked, and smiled. "The same thing you have always done; protect people. I can show you the mortal identities held by the Changelings of this particular Fae, and give you a way to safely imprison them. I can also give you the mortal identities of some of the more obnoxious Vampires of the city, so that the FBI can make life harder for them. And of course, give you ways to fight said obnoxious Vampires as well."

"That'd be good. We can call 'em anonymous tips. They've helped me more than one'd realize over the years," Baker nodded, "If we can match one with the DNA from the murder scene, we got our gal locked up for life on murder, manslaughter, and cannibalism, if not given the lethal injection. Would the lethal injection even work on a Changeling?" He wondered aloud, quickly moving on, "We can nail them with corruption charges, fraud, all the stuff they might do any high-profile rich guy or gal might do. Shouldn't raise any more suspicion than just any old audit of celebrities." It all made sense to Baker, even beyond the effects of the magic: it explained everything, to some extent or another.

"Perfect," said Ascot, drawing a USB from his pocket. "This gadget contains the first series of tips..."

[Kingdom of Irhk]

Simone de Angelo

China Town Temple

The limousine parked in front of the temple's great gates and Silvanus stepped out. He looks different. His hair is a sheer black, trimmed in a short clean looking cut. His face looks sharper and more pronounced like his cheekbones, nose, and eyebrows. The large scar across his face was gone but a new scar popped up which is a small horizontal cut over his right eye. He spent a few minutes warping his flesh in the limousine during their ride, laughing maniacly as he pulled and twisted his own bones, flesh and skin. The three neonates from the other night formed behind him and Mikhailov like bodyguards as they approached the temple. His eyes, which were now a mismatch of blue and brown, bore down upon one of the Kuei-Jin guards, analyzing the Eastern Vampire with Auspex. "Take me to your figurehead. Her Grace, Prince Anna, wishes... no... decrees and desires to exchange some words with your... pitiful and lowly breed." His mannerisms and way of speech changed too. It was as if this isn't Silvanus but another different person. Atleast the whispers were still there, like subconscious nibblings at one's sanity.

The Keui-jin looked at one another for a moment and then back to the stranger, " you can demand and decree just about anything you heart desires my Camarilla friend. However you have been expected, the master is just finishing a bit of business. The temple gates opened up to let in the strangers from the Camarilla, it did not take them very long to respond to a bit of prodding this was more or less good for the greater scheme of things. So far things weren't going to well as far as first impressions but with luck that would change, as they went inside of the the temple it was easy to see the complex was alot larger on the inside than the outside let on.

Mao was just finishing a meeting with one of his men having come back from the dockyards and it was easy to see that he was rather unhappy with the results. "WEREWOLVES! You are telling me that werewolves have taken over the dockyards!" he said rather unhappily. "Give me some time to think on this, get the rest of our men to safty for now I will have to see to this problem in time." he said one of the men from the docks running past the camarilla and his plus 1.

After he was going the envoy was brought in to see the head Kuei-Jin, "Well it seems the Camarilla has finally shown its head, so why has your glorious leader gone around blowing up buildings in my territory? Are you trying to move in on us as well? Maybe perhaps it is the anarchs? Speak your business I am a very busy man today it seems" The Keui-jin grand master was in no mood for games, especially not from an obvious malkavian if the laugh wasn't enough of a tell.

Connor Mac Domhnaill

Soon as the Kuei-Jin left and the rest of his band gathered once more. Now they were on the city's map, but what would it bring? Certainly the head of the Kuei-Jin, the one they referred to as "Mao" wasn't going to talk. While the rest of his crew seemed to rejoice in the apparent victory, Connor was worried.

They came with a decent number of weapons only to get some crates. If it was a war, they were going to come with everything they could use against them. Grabbing his phone, he went for a quick stroll outside. In a few minutes, he was already on the phone.

" - Gerald speaking. Who's calling?

- Connor. It's about the business in LA.

- Alright... Speak freely.

- Listen, Kuei-Jin are here too. Had a problem with them after we took over the dockyard here... I'll need more people here. This or more funds, werewolves are sort of rare around here. I can enlist a few humans around here, but...

- I'll send some men with some funds. But you will need to give me a few weeks... Two to three weeks, I'd say. Then you'll have the condition to defend this place... But be careful. Kuei-Jin are usually harder to deal with than some vampires. And no, before you ask, they are different.

- Thanks."

Quickly, he went back to the rest of werewolves, calling the same group that defended the dockyard. Their destination was clear: Chinatown. A certain Temple, apparently the base of operations of the Kuei-Jin in Los Angeles. Soon as they stopped their more conventional car, they saw a limousine... Vampires, maybe? They had to talk with the head of the Eastern vampires, and they would do so.

Together with three more people, Connor walked to the entrance of the temple.

"Mate, I need to talk with someone named Mao. It's about the dockyard business."

[Imperialisium]

Co-Wrote with Dragos Bee

Anna's Residence

Later in the day, once Ascot and Reynard had left Hank Baker's house, the two would then go to Anna's Residence via Reynard's cheap car. Once the two had gotten off at the gates of the Camarilla's  main headquarters within Los Angeles, Ascot would walk up to the suspicious guards, and say with Words of Truth: "We have business with your mistress. Let us in despite our apperance." The two guards, ghouls, looked at each other askance for a moment. The spell took hold, but Ascot and Reynard could feel as well a strange presence throughout the residence, magic. Strong magic. Layers of wards, sigils, and defenses webbed together in impossible complexity. But nothing activated. No counter-spell, no sirens alerting a potential reprisal for their presence, it was almost too quiet. The guards nodded with faces of confusion mixed in with disapproval. Allowing the iron gates to swing open and allow the Mage's through. 

If scanned with Auspex, Ascot and Reynard's nimbuses would be revaled, with the former shining brightly, like a miniature star.

Security Suite

"I see them." said Medorna into the receiver of his radio. Indeed other sentries both mundane and supernatural had detected the two mages. One of them, Ascot, was quickly revealed to be a Mage. Auspex having been run more than once over their person. Yet, the gates yawned open much to the confusion of Medorna whom had not given such an order; nor, had he known of one given out. He was about to pick up his radio again to bark orders into it asking what the hell was going on? Why where the gates opening? When he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Anna. He stood up quickly with a straight back. "I am sorry mam I don---." 

Anna held up a hand to silence him. "I know what they are. I have seen their kind on many an occasion both here...and elseware. It is by my will that they pass those gates unhindered."

"Then..." Anna cut off Medorna before he could finish, "The usual. Send them to my study here."

A Few Minutes Later

Ascot and Reynard sat down on whatever chairs were offered, in this case Victorian classics imported from London;before the former would speak to Anna:

"Forgive me for being blunt, honored Elder of the Los Angeles Camarilla, but we seem to have a mutual interest in bringing the Sabbat down. You want to curb their influence, we want the Sleepers protected from terror in the night and the pretensions of 'Noddists'. That and an edge against our fellow Mages, the ones who do not hold the Sleepers in such high regard." Ascot would pause, while Reynard looked nervously, saying in his own turn:

"Uh...sorry about that; Ascot means no offense."

Anna's face remained passive, emotionless, for a minute. Then a second minute ticked by. "Is that all?" She remained impassive for another minute, "You are not the first of your kind to come to me on such a matter. The last time a mage made such a bargain they thought themselves smart enough to not fullfill their part of the bargain. Sadly for them, they found that not even escape to realms other than this one, is not far enough to escape me. So I too will be direct." Anna leaned forward an inch, "What collateral can you give me to assure your truthfullness and willingness to uphold whatever bargain we strike here? For a deal is what you seek is it not?" 

Ascot grinned, then said, "You are a Tremere, and still have some remnant of the old Mage Lore. And you know that while there are some things Vampires can do that Mages cannot, the reverse also applies. I have, in a dimensional pocket -" 

Anna held up a hand, "I am not a novice. You need not tell the details of how to harness such powers." 

Reynard snickered at his lover's minor embarrassment, then said: "What Ascot means is that he has, in a dimensional pocket, proof that your Clan, the Tremere, and its wider organization, have been infilitrated by the Baali. Isn't that right, Ascot?" He turned towards the black-haired, black-eyed young-looking man, who then continued:

"Yes, and if permitted, I can even use Words of Truth to guarantee it." A pause.

Anna's eyes narrowed. She looked at Ascot, then Reynard, "Such words would normally see you on a table ready to have such details extracted in an....excruciating manner. You have my attention. Name your terms." 

Ascot nodded. "We will set the Sabbat's main headquarters on fire with coincidental magic in the next lightning storm to befall LA, and in exchange, we get title to a site of a Quintessence Node currently held by you guys. We will also give you the proof and the list for free."

"Not for free. There is a price that you just stated." Anna was not to be fooled by such words to sweeten the deal. But she needed a win, a setback to the Sabbat efforts in the Los Angeles area, this was it. But she could feel caution encroaching in her mind. How did the mages know of where the Sabbat headquarters in Los Angeles was? Already her mind whirred with plots and counter-plots. 

"Fine." 

"Thank you," Reynard said, while Ascot drew, from a dimensional pocket, a dossier, some blood samples, and copies of letters from one Patricia von Bernstein in Germany. Then, the two would move to leave...

Anna watched the two mages leave with the letters left on the table before her. She had work to do. 

[Finsternia]

Simone de Angelo

Simone buried his face into the Mother Dragon's embrace, tears flowing free from his eyes. The great disparity and comparison between his life now from then was painful. The true happiness written upon the pearl's memory is like a searing and white hot brand upon his skin. Perhaps he should be happy that he saw it once more, that he relived it within his heart and mind, right? Wrong. He knew that he will never experienced that. There were no sticks and logs left in the fireplace to burn, only cinders and ashes that cannot be ever rekindled by any kind of flame. It hurts to see how such a happy family could come down to this state. A state of despair and broken hearts, of calamity and bankruptness. Endymion and the Mother Dragon might be doing their best to seal, heal, and make Simone's scars and wounds vanish but their relief were just mere illusions. Mere illusions. Like dementia induced thoughts, schizophrenic whispers, paranoidal shadows calling to oneself. They can't rewind time and make it all right. They can't unwind the fallen dominoes back to the orderly pillars. Even if they did, isn't it just mockery and trickery? Simone closed his eyes and wept. Soon enough, sleep will have mercy on him; the young mage dozing off as his tears comforted him.

Astorias

The Sage closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "The greatest spells will require the greatest sacrifices. My own pocket dimension didn't require the price of blood but it did still require tremendous effort that Simone cannot imagine to achieve." His wrinkled hand went towards his neck where a small, and almost unremarkable, battered cross hanged by silver chains. "Devotion... Will... Love... What do all these three needed? When you devote yourself to a cause, what will you do? When you will something to happen, what will you do? When you love something, or someone," Astorias emphasized the word greatly, staring at the painting with reminiscing eyes before turning to the Fae, "what do you do?" His hand left the cross and he sighed.

"You sacrifice. What did you do to study under me and learn more about this world? You sacrificed. What did I do to make sure that Simone will have what he always wanted and needed, the greatest education that could be given upon an Acanthus? I sacrificed. I placed down my cards and chips into an unsteady deal knowing that one mishap will result to various problems that could endanger him." The Archmaster jumped off his chair and waddled towards the gigantic painting. He stared upwards and addressed Epeiosa. "Epeiosa, my dear, magic isn't just all marvel and splendor. It is a gamble. It is a Russian Roulette that every spell you cast, Death's Scythe is always pressed on your neck's skin. You gambled to be under my tutelage." He turned back and smiled. "It is not my desire to upset you or to scare you. I only want to impart some words of wisdom. Whatever you do, my dear, be prepared for its consequences and pay the rightful sacrifice and due."

Silvanus

"Quite in a hurry aren't we? No worries, we have no desire to stay with your degenerative kind for long." Mikhailov's rose, which was imbued with the power of the Dementation skill Devil in the mind, is working well. Even against its true master. "We have more pressing issues to address so I will keep it short and to the point. I am a spokesperson of Clan Tremere and Her Grace Anna, Xavier von Wetterstein. I am here to discuss an alliance between our organizations, as grudgingly as it is."

"We know that you are all hounded by the Kindred and other low breeds. Anarchs torching some of your streets, Sabbats assaulting your keypoints, Hunters plagueing the corners. Changelings, Werewolves, even Spectres. Pitiful, I must say. It takes too long for all of you to be eradicated." Silvanus made a genuine mocking smile before continuing. "But that is what we want. An alliance. Prince Anna and the Primogens will be sending help with your defenses. We all know you are not welcome here in Los Angeles. That's why we have a preposition. The Camarilla will stop the assaunts against the Kuei-Jin. Any emnities will be suspended, will be on hold, as long as this treaty endures. We will also even lend a hand when trouble comes. But no, no, no. There is always another weight upon the scales to balance its hands."

Silvanus stared down at Mao with those mismatched eyes. "You'll also lend a hand against our enemies. Make sure that China Town, and its vicinity, is clean of Anarch and Sabbat pests. We will allow the Kuei-Jin to patrol Camarilla controlled sectors if you'll also allow us to prod in our heads into your own territories. A mutual pact of defense and information. Perhaps you had some wisdom hidden behind that elderly visage? It would be wise not to turn down our gracious offer. Graces must always be thanked, not spurred after all."

'Prepare if these stagnant water smelling children won't bite on the bait.' Silvanus' original voice thundered inside Mikhailov's head, asking the mage to anticipate any of the Kuei-Jin's movements against the two.

[Luminesa]

Simone de Angelo

Simone buried his face into the Mother Dragon's embrace, tears flowing free from his eyes. The great disparity and comparison between his life now from then was painful. The true happiness written upon the pearl's memory is like a searing and white hot brand upon his skin. Perhaps he should be happy that he saw it once more, that he relived it within his heart and mind, right? Wrong. He knew that he will never experienced that. There were no sticks and logs left in the fireplace to burn, only cinders and ashes that cannot be ever rekindled by any kind of flame. It hurts to see how such a happy family could come down to this state. A state of despair and broken hearts, of calamity and bankruptness. Endymion and the Mother Dragon might be doing their best to seal, heal, and make Simone's scars and wounds vanish but their relief were just mere illusions. Mere illusions. Like dementia induced thoughts, schizophrenic whispers, paranoidal shadows calling to oneself. They can't rewind time and make it all right. They can't unwind the fallen dominoes back to the orderly pillars. Even if they did, isn't it just mockery and trickery? Simone closed his eyes and wept. Soon enough, sleep will have mercy on him; the young mage dozing off as his tears comforted him.

Astorias

The Sage closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "The greatest spells will require the greatest sacrifices. My own pocket dimension didn't require the price of blood but it did still require tremendous effort that Simone cannot imagine to achieve." His wrinkled hand went towards his neck where a small, and almost unremarkable, battered cross hanged by silver chains. "Devotion... Will... Love... What do all these three needed? When you devote yourself to a cause, what will you do? When you will something to happen, what will you do? When you love something, or someone," Astorias emphasized the word greatly, staring at the painting with reminiscing eyes before turning to the Fae, "what do you do?" His hand left the cross and he sighed.

"You sacrifice. What did you do to study under me and learn more about this world? You sacrificed. What did I do to make sure that Simone will have what he always wanted and needed, the greatest education that could be given upon an Acanthus? I sacrificed. I placed down my cards and chips into an unsteady deal knowing that one mishap will result to various problems that could endanger him." The Archmaster jumped off his chair and waddled towards the gigantic painting. He stared upwards and addressed Epeiosa. "Epeiosa, my dear, magic isn't just all marvel and splendor. It is a gamble. It is a Russian Roulette that every spell you cast, Death's Scythe is always pressed on your neck's skin. You gambled to be under my tutelage." He turned back and smiled. "It is not my desire to upset you or to scare you. I only want to impart some words of wisdom. Whatever you do, my dear, be prepared for its consequences and pay the rightful sacrifice and due."

Silvanus

"Quite in a hurry aren't we? No worries, we have no desire to stay with your degenerative kind for long." Mikhailov's rose, which was imbued with the power of the Dementation skill Devil in the mind, is working well. Even against its true master. "We have more pressing issues to address so I will keep it short and to the point. I am a spokesperson of Clan Tremere and Her Grace Anna, Xavier von Wetterstein. I am here to discuss an alliance between our organizations, as grudgingly as it is."

"We know that you are all hounded by the Kindred and other low breeds. Anarchs torching some of your streets, Sabbats assaulting your keypoints, Hunters plagueing the corners. Changelings, Werewolves, even Spectres. Pitiful, I must say. It takes too long for all of you to be eradicated." Silvanus made a genuine mocking smile before continuing. "But that is what we want. An alliance. Prince Anna and the Primogens will be sending help with your defenses. We all know you are not welcome here in Los Angeles. That's why we have a preposition. The Camarilla will stop the assaunts against the Kuei-Jin. Any emnities will be suspended, will be on hold, as long as this treaty endures. We will also even lend a hand when trouble comes. But no, no, no. There is always another weight upon the scales to balance its hands."

Silvanus stared down at Mao with those mismatched eyes. "You'll also lend a hand against our enemies. Make sure that China Town, and its vicinity, is clean of Anarch and Sabbat pests. We will allow the Kuei-Jin to patrol Camarilla controlled sectors if you'll also allow us to prod in our heads into your own territories. A mutual pact of defense and information. Perhaps you had some wisdom hidden behind that elderly visage? It would be wise not to turn down our gracious offer. Graces must always be thanked, not spurred after all."

'Prepare if these stagnant water smelling children won't bite on the bait.' Silvanus' original voice thundered inside Mikhailov's head, asking the mage to anticipate any of the Kuei-Jin's movements against the two.

The Mother-Dragon

Simone continued to cry in her arms, and try as she might she could not calm his tears. He continued to weep until he wore himself out, his body becoming aching and tired with every minute that passed. Unlike dragon-children...or most dragon-children...human-children wore themselves out so easily. Yet she did not mind. She had told him that she wanted him to cry, and so she kept him safe in her embrace. "...There is a truth that every Mage faces as they grow-up, as they discover that their skills and desires alone cannot heal their broken hearts. Because every heart, in some way, is broken...Many realize this very far into their training. They believe they are about to conquer the world...and they remember a single person they loved...or who loved them...and they remember all of the wounds they failed to heal, along the way. They look back upon those they truly had the power to save, and they realized they forgot what actually mattered..." she explained, while stroking Simone's hair as gen began to doze.

Yet then she smiled again, and kissed his head. "...But here you are, remembering your wounds and acknowledging them...And it is true, not even the most beautiful of my Magic or your Magic can make them go away...But there is one thing that can...true love can heal those wounds. Love without the Magic, without the glitter, simply the embrace of a hurting heart by another hurting heart...Because I, my dear little one, have also experienced much pain...This is my secret...This...cavern contains some of my tears as well...And only a heart that knows pain can truly heal another heart...and so..." As Simone fell asleep in her arms, she walked over to the center of the room and sat down, cradling him in her arms. The pearls floated around them, waiting for a command. "...I, Kannon...the faithful and devoted First Servant of Lord Endymion, the Guardian of Tears, and the Protector of the Sea...will heal you, not with Magic, but with my own broken heart..."

Epeiosa

As Astorias continued to speak to her, Epeiosa slowly picked her head out of her hands and paid attention, knowing that she had much to learn still. She could only stare in wonder, as the Mage explained that everything he had done required sacrifice. He had given himself until there was nothing left, or at least that there was nothing left from his point-of-view. And she had sacrificed things herself, in order to be close to Astorias and to learn from him. Was she willing to sacrifice more to be around him, to learn from him, and to create the world she wanted? Shakily, she stood, and she walked over to the painting with Astorias. She stared up at Agatha in the painting, wondering if simply staring at her would bring her the answers she needed. Yet nothing came, nothing from the painting. "...I want to make a world...where you are happy..." she muttered, repeating her desire from the day before, "...and...if I do have to give a lot...to make that happen...then I'll give a lot to make that happen..." She turned to him, determined and yet also desiring acknowledgement for her will to care for him. She was convinced that she could make him happy, and that if she could just create this world full of the things that made him happy, she could do so. "...I-I'm...I-I'm scared...but...I don't want that to get in my way..."

Silvanus

Mikhailov remained silent, as Silvanus spoke to the people at the door, waiting only for commands from Silvanus. The Malkavian truly showed his mocking side, both as an effect of the mysterious rose on Mikhailov's jacket and also as an effect of his generally-disdainful attitude toward non-Malkavians. He knew that such talk might cause for the Chinese vampires to become violent, and thus he heeded Silvanus's warning. He placed a hand close to his pocket, where his pistol was, and looked directly toward the Kuel-Jin. Yes, Lord Silvanus. I shall attack on your command, he answered back, surprised to see they now had some sort of psychic link. What had happened between them? Had Silvanus done something to Mikhailov while he had slept?

And then the voices returned. Silvanus's restraint was not entirely active, and so now they seemed to be louder. Several of them seemed to be singing to him, humming and giggling. Others seemed to be speaking to him, or to each other, but he could not tell who or what these voices were. One voice, soft and quiet, seemed to be next to him and whispering in his ear. Yes, Silvanus's tricks the night before still lingered in his mind, and so the Dementation played those tricks further now, trying to drag him further into the darkness.

Don't be afraid, Mikhailov...We are always near you...All of us... the sweet voice explained. He felt someone take his hand, the one that rested over his pistol. ...You are never alone, now...You will never be alone...You can even talk to us, we will answer you...We will answer everything you want to know...

The Mage thought about turning to see who was speaking to him, and he did look down at his hand to see who was holding it. Yet when he saw the pale hands and followed them toward a face, the person's face was blank. They had no features on their body. They were a plain, clay doll, wrapped in a white cloak and clinging to him without entirely knowing why. ...You are merely a single unfinished thought. Leave me. I am on a mission, he commanded mentally.

...I am your thoughts, Mikhailov...If they are unfinished, you must finish me. You must tell me what I am...Do not make me leave you... The clay doll now let go of Mikhailov's hand, only to walk in front of him and to embrace him. ...A thousand unfinished thoughts...without any conclusions or without any meaning...Finish us, Mikhailov...Do not abandon us...I cannot leave you...I cannot leave you yet...We cannot leave you yet... The doll's voice changed, as though it had suddenly embraced every other voice in his head and had taken all of their qualities itself. The voice was no longer soft and kind, but now disjointed and in varying tones of sorrow, excitement, and maddening loneliness. ...The void is so lonely...We cannot reach each other...we cannot reach you...Mikhailov...Mikhailov... The doll hugged him tighter.

Mikhailov held his ground, and grit his teeth. Let. Me. Go.

Then, suddenly, all of the thoughts disappeared. The clay doll fell to the ground, folding like a folding chair, and then it vanished. With this gone, he could now shake the feelings of uncertainty and could focus on his mission. Yet he could not help but wonder if such visions were Silvanus's doing...