Horror Thriller The Masquerade

"He feels a stranger to his own home. The torrent of thoughts, urges and desires cannot be smothered."
- Vampire The Masquerade, 1st Edition
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Downtown, L.A

The police sirens blared, their red and blue lights casting themselves upon the alley, leaving everything with a red and blue hue.

The officer, a middle-aged bumpkin who truly knew not what he was doing stared at the mess with his hand on his brow.

"Oh god..." he whispered, his eyes fixed on the body torn to shreds. Limbs were strewn across the alley, with blood on almost every inch of the ground and walls.

He muttered into his radio about needing an autopsy, before he paused and looked up.

He couldn't help but feel something was... watching him.

It was a shame that he wasn't wrong.

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The Ventrue frowned deeply as his eyes were fixed on the news broadcast.

1 civilian dead... Five cops murdered on the scene...

Prince Giovanni Marcellus was deeply unnerved when the television informed him of the nature of these deaths. Mauled to pieces seemingly by some animal.

One of the kindred in Los Angeles had violated the Masquerade.

An Anarch? Sabbat? Possibly. He would have people looking into this.

He tilted his head and barked out an order to some thrall in the room.

"I want you to arrange a meeting with the Elders. I plan to announce a blood hunt." He ordered.

His eyes returned to the T.V screen, his frown deepening.

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Welcome, one and all, the The Masquerade. A game based on the titular role-playing game, Vampire: The Masquerade. In this gothic-punk setting of L.A, the sickness of modernity and brutal politics of the Camarilla (A "Vampire" society)

You will play as a Kindred (Vampire), unravelling the complex politics of the game, while trying to uphold, or break, the Masquerade, a set of rules enforced by the Camarilla to ensure secrecy.

Most Kindred gain no pleasure from the curse, as they now may never truly interact with mortal society any longer.

Perhaps you will be a bastion of the Camarilla, upholding the Masquerade and traditions, or perhaps you will be an Anarch, rebelling against the paranoid musings of the Elders of the Camarilla.

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Character Sheet:

Name:
Age/Generation: (Recommended Generations - 11-13)
Gender:
Clan: [Brujah, Gangrel, Malkavian, Nosferatu, Toreador, Tremere, Ventrue]
Appearance:
Haven: (Your home)
Inventory:
Bio:
Disciplines:

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Rules
1. Obey the TOS as usual
2. PM your Character Sheets to the GM
3. Consult the resource thread for guidance for character creation, or PM the GM.
4. As this is a game set in VTM, it will be more mature, however, do try and follow the TOS as best as possible.
5. Have fun!

 

GM approved!

Name: Justin Faber/Magnus
Age: Six Weeks (human in his twenties)/Unknown (but old)
Clan: Malkavian
Generation: 13th?/Unknown (his real Generation was probably never fully known considering there is no record who was his Sire)

Appearance:


Justin actually tried to look vampiric for that picture …



Magnus, probably considering consuming the painter while he works on his portrait

Haven:
Justin has a small Los Feliz flat right among the hipster part of town and sleeps in a bathtub in a bathroom with no windows. Magnus owns a mansion with a underground safe room and all that … but barely ever makes it there.

Inventory: Justin owns a mobile, pad and for some reason got a 9mm automatic he does not remember acquiring. Magnus has a six hundred year old sword somewhere in perfect condition, but barely sees reason to carry it.

History:

History? History is for those who believe something like history exists. That there is something like an objective truth. Not only lies told by survivors to the young ones and themselves. If they are lies. If nothing is real, what is a lie? Right? But I am doing madman talk here right?

Okay, you want to hear my story. The canonical agreed upon narrative that gives my existence some sense by putting it into a larger narrative we consider my life. Cool. Let‘s go ahead.

My name is Justin Faber and I was a student of philosophy, social media junkies, Generation Z poster boy and wanna be playboy. Last one got me bitten. Drained? Turned? Actually not entirely sure what the right term it is …

EMBRACED, you idiot!

Embraced, right? Okay. Well. Girl. Motel. All a bit fuzzy. Now I am a Vampire. Bloodsucker. Child of the Night!

Kindred, my God, where did you get those names from?

Hollywood. Dracula and Twilight mostly. Anyway, yeah. The part nobody told me about was this constant voice that keeps on interrupting my thoughts making it hard to concentrate sometimes … he seems to call himself Magnus and …

Okay, let’s stop it right there, shall we? I think you might have gotten the idea. Justin is a useless, stupid, ignorant little child of these times. Weak. Whining. Annoying.

Don‘t get me wrong. I appreciate the access to their modern world these spawns give me. But all of the above is nonsense. No motel, no bite and Justin never studied. He is just the newest spawn that has taken hold in my head. I am quite satisfied it is only one. There were centuries where it got a little crowded up here. Anyway, my name is Magnus. At least I refer to myself as Magnus as long as I can remember. I became a child of my Sire in a time when swords and armor were a thing. They all all I remember of my first night, actually. Swords, armor, screams. A castle of fortified monastery. Blood. So much blood. Whoever these people were, I took them all. Magnus, baptized in blood. One of my former spawns, a man called Clyde who considered himself a so-called Hippie said once I am a bit „snappy“, my mood is so changeable. Well, it was always like that. Anyway …

Sorry, I have these blackouts. Anyway. I am adopting to this new state, to the voices and all that and strange enough I seem to have inherited some sort of position. They call it the „seat of the Primogen“, which I am still kind of figuring out. Anyway, killing me seems not to be that easy, because of that seat. Generally everybody was very respectful to me which I had not expected. Except the young one. Tyler? Yeah, Tyler cornered me making fun of me. Bullies. They exist anywhere. I mean, I really was pissed at him. Also he did not deserve someone ripping him into two pieces. Still wondering who that was. But I actually think I am getting used to it. Drink mostly from my neighbors, sometimes take a sip from girls in Clubs. No killing, just a sip. They suddenly all seem to like me. Also I see things now. Not sure how I feel about this esoteric stuff. Aura reading is nothing I believe in, to be honest. But now I damned see them from time to time. Kinda scary …

Kinda scary? He does not believe in auras? Why do these spawns always have to be such morons? I just hope this one will behave and not cause trouble. I have some pretty bad and bloody memories of this whole Sabbath thing in Paris in 1788. Took me decades to recover from that one.

Anyway, scary as it is, I look forward to immortality. I am happy to die young and then stay young forever undead. Gonna be fun I hope. Maybe I make friends …

Friends … by the Gods, that kid has so much to learn …

Abilities: Justin has rudimentary abilities in Dominate and Auspex, which he uses more instinctively. Magnus has a wide range of powers, making him faster, stronger and his abilitiy to control minds he uses rarely, yet they had frightening consequences throughout the centuries of his existence. His powers of Auspex and Obfuscate are well developed.

 

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Name: Florian Capet, The Crimson Rose
Age/Generation: About seven hundred years old, it is so easy to lose track of these things. 8th Generation
Gender: Male
Clan: Toreador
Appearance:

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Haven: A mansion in Beverly Hills, naturally
Inventory: On his person he carries very little, nothing of note beyond what a human would have.
Bio:
His name was perhaps the only part of his humanity Florian Capet still cared for. All else had been consumed in his singular obsession. Perfection. Mind, body, spirit it all forms a holistic trifecta for Florian. One built on power and blood. Perhaps it is his old age or his demeanor carried over and only sunk further into darkness but Florian enjoys being a Vampire. In fact he avoids the loathsome term 'Kindred' a weak diplomatic way of clinging onto false hope.

Ironically unlike many in his clan he despises humans. Sure there is always the odd one or two every now and again that were truly exceptional. But they were not humans. They were unborn vampiric children, waiting to begin their true lives. Yessss... that was how Florian saw it. All the others, the cattle that roamed around with riches pumping through their veins. They were naught but a selection of vintage, living their lives so they could ferment properly.

As the Primogen of his clan, the oldest and most respected among the Toreador, he can quite safely say he is the greatest artist to have ever existed. Rows upon rows of his art work lines the walls of his haven, too much to truly store, but not piece he throws away. His most famous and prized piece, The Crimson Rose, took him over a century to finish. It is rumored that to view it is to gaze in the very heart of vampirism itself. It is only in recent times that Florian has come around to this new art form, the film, wonderous possibilities indeed.

Disciplines: Presence, Celerity, Auspex

 

GM Approved!
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Character Sheet:

Name: Giovanni De Montenegro

Age/Generation: 20’s, 11th Generation

Gender: Male

Clan: Toreador

Appearance:

Haven: The Palladium, Beverly Hills Estate

Inventory: Artist book of parchment, quill. Special ink.

Bio: Giovanni Is a sculptor, poet, artist, writer, trader and curator of Fine Arts. He has cultivated a priceless collection of art pieces over time and is always ready to trade if the conditions are right. Beauty, Art, Intrigue and Eccentricity are his go to characteristics.

Disciplines: Presence, Celerity, Auspex

 

With the approval of our mighty GM, I shall introduce myself.

Character Sheet:

Name: Abella (Myra) Amdis
Age/Generation: 11 - Looks to be about mid twenties, early 30's
Gender: Female
Clan: Tremere


Haven: On the outskirts of Los Angeles, up in the hills, she bought a loft. Actually, she bought the entire building. The lower floor was her office, where she worked. Above, a few floors were empty and set up like a maze. And the top floor that was off-limits was her area. No windows at all. The building has all types of technology embedded in it. There is no place she can not see, with various sensors. The basement has an escape tunnel and a lab. The roof has its own unique exit.

Inventory: Besides the normal things a normal being would carry, she also has a medical permit, stating that she suffers from xeroderma pigmentosum (Allergic to sunlight) Stun gun, licensed gun, 2 mini-daggers, hidden in a belt she always wears, 2 hairpins laced with a sleeping agent,

Bio: Myra has been on her own for 6 years now. Her life before the embrace was different than most in the beginning. As a young child, she knew she was different. She spoke 4 languages and was home-schooled. She was different in other ways as well. She had a very good sense of the people around her. The feelings she had about certain people tended to be correct most of the time. Dad was military, so they moved around quite a bit. And then things changed. He got out of the military. He had changed. The family had separated. She had a trust fund. She moved on.

She was 26 back then. She was traveling overseas. Italy. She spoke enough of the language to get around. This was a trip that was going to change her life. Little did she know then how true that statement was going to be.

Short version. Attacked. Saved. Embraced. A whirlwind romance of sorts. She learned what she now was, and the rules of being a part of the new world order. She also learned that Cassius, the one who turned her, was a bit of a rebel. He didnt agree with the other members of his clan in some things, so he had recently stuck out on his own. And believes that is why he had been attacked. He didn't really explain what he had been attacked by but was now looking for a change. So Myra suggested he come back to the states with her.

They took a long cruise back to the states. Moonlight swims. Shows. It was all a blur. And learning. So much to learn. Some of the skills she had before, seemed to have exploded even more. Colors were more vibrant. Things she only saw a shadowy hint of, seemed to explode now. She did miss being able to enjoy all of the lovely food, but she could still smell it. At least she could enjoy wine, of a sort. But the hardest part was dealing with what they laughingly called the kiss...

But time marches on. Many years passed. They traveled in style, always. They stopped in Alaksa first. Six months of the night were a wonderful thing. And she grew better with her newfound skills. Thaumaturgy. Learning the true powers of the blood. So much more than just a simple meal. And more. Many more years passed. They made it to Portland before time caught up with Cassius. She simply knew that he did not show up, after the moon rose. She waited a week. And then she moved on. She simply saw it as an act of moving on.

She came to California and decided to settle down. The nightlife was vibrant and exciting. Her linguistic skills allowed her to have a very profitable lifestyle. Her ability to read people made her skills as a consultant very much in demand, they were even willing of putting up with her eccentricities, such as working at night. But because she was dependable, the lofty price she requested was never refused. She didn't ask extra questions. She didn't care. The more people she interacted with, the better she got at reading them.

Moving to Los Angeles brought on new dangers. She could easily sense the seemingly large number of Kindred in the area. She had avoided such large gatherings before. But the populace was 'teaming with life', so food issues should not be a problem. This could be interesting.


Disciplines: Thaumaturgy, Dominate, Auspex

 

Character Sheet GM Approval Acquired:

Name: Sal Gibraltar
Age/Generation: 33 / 12
Gender: Male
Clan: Gangrel
Appearance:

Haven: O’Brian’s Tavern
Inventory: Combat Knife, switchblade knife, collection of large brass and silver rings, sawed off shotgun with a fake barrel attachment, bow and varied arrows, and a go bag as well as duffel bag to hold his stuff.
Bio: Born in the back of a vehicle that couldn’t make it to the doctor fast enough despite ‘not sparring the horses’, you could say life was already shown how gentle it would be with Sal. Sal is not his human name, but let’s stick with it for simplicity sake as he has been through a few with a couple ready to switch to as needed. Time went on and he grew up rough, joined the military to get out of the hole that was his family life, and the Army dropped him in another more bullet laden one. We won’t bore you with the when and where’s but when his time was up he refused the flight home and simply took off with a young native bride on a quest to find her displaced family.

Best thing he ever got out of the military was his wife. Of course it was after leaving a gypsy caravan they had been traveling with to check a refugee camp, not three hundred miles away, that he had the rotten luck for his wheel to break. Gathering what they could as travel was sparse in that neck of the woods, they headed onward on foot.

That night was the night the bear attacked two foolish lovers. He fought for his life and hers, but at the end he had collapsed waiting for deaths embrace as his head lulled to see the blank stare of his bride. Only when he awoke later he found himself next to a warm fire. With a strange man tending it.

He was greeted and told he had impressed the man, who wanted to give him a gift as he had no children of his own. When he said he would feel wrong taking something from the man that saved his life and killed the bear that killed his wife, the man had laughed. For the man had done nothing of the kind. He had followed Sal and his wife, planning to steal what they could spare for his own journey, but had been treated that night to see this man the gypsies spoke well of kill a bear without a gun! The bear had merely fought on for several minutes before it had finally died from the stab to the heart Sal had given.

With broken gratitude Sal had acquiesced and was given a gift. An Embrace. Waking in the now abandoned bears cave he had set out alone for many a year to find his own way before a teacher came and they traveled and learned. Traveled and learned all the way to LA. Where a burly bearish man working and living at a bar as a bouncer and illegal fight club protection racket doesn’t raise any eyebrows. Not to mention his ER work at the Zoo as a natural sedative for riled animals. His odd fee of a stolen bag of blood from the blood bank never linked back to him.
Disciplines: Protean, Animality, Fortitude

 

Vampire: The Masquerade
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Los Angeles Theatre, Downtown L.A.



'Twere dark times for the Kindred of Los Angeles.

The rain poured outside, the street lights giving it an orange glow as it settled in the gutter. It was not here in the streets that the story of those of the Camarilla will begin. Indeed, it is inside the Los Angeles theatre that they will find themselves.

Prince Giovanni Marcellus stood on the stage, his hands clasped behind his back, looking down at the assembled kindred. Almost all the Kindred of Los Angeles had attended. Even those who looked with disdain upon the Camarilla had attended.

Intriguing.

He scanned the room once more, noting Justin Faber or Magnus (if he had chosen to reveal himself), Florian Capet, Giovanni De Montenegro, Antonius Gallus, Vince, and a few others, perhaps unseen to the rest.

"Kindred." He plainly stated, with a hint of grievance in his noble voice, which had the slightest hint of an Italian accent.

"I have called you here today for a simple reason. Our way of life, our existence, is under threat." He solemnly announced.

"As many of you may know, an unknown kindred whelp has violated our sacred traditions. This simply will not do." He began to pace across the stage, still with his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

"It is with a heavy heart that I must announce this. But unfortunately, this kindred has left me no choice. I must call a Blood Hunt. It saddens me so that we must lose what could have been a valuable member to our society. But alas, the blood of Caine has other plans..."

"My friends, go out into the night, find me this whelp. Bring him to me, as it would only be right for me to carry out the sentence. Until then, I bid you a good night... and good hunting." He finished, vanishing off the stage and exiting the room. Antonius Gallus, the Tremere primogen, stood from his seat in a high balcony and exited the room.

Kindred would begin to shuffle out of the room, with Vince, the Anarch leader and occasionally called the Sheriff, leaning on the wall in a dark corner of the hall, intently watching his kindred brethren.

It was here that Justin Faber, Florian Capet, and Giovanni de Montenegro would begin their journey.

@DarkLordoftheFins @Shadowsun @greyjedi125

Prince Marcellus's Manor, Beverly Hills, L.A

Some time later...



Prince Marcellus gazed out of the massive windows looking out into the night. The view was quite exquisite, looking over Los Angeles and its night lights. Dark Classical music softly drifted through the dining hall. A wine glass was poised in the Prince's hand, filled with a dark red liquid. A small smirk was set on his face as he watched the city.

It was here that Abella Amdis, or simply Myra, had been escorted. A lavish limousine rolled into the driveway, before coming to a halt and the chauffeur opening the door for Myra.

"The Prince's abode, Ms. Amdis." The chauffeur informed, before stepping out of her way.

Another man stood at the entrance of the building. This one carried himself in an entire different manner. Calculated and cold. He waited for Myra to approach the entrance, before introducing himself.



"Abella Amdis. I am Gallus. Antonius Gallus. The Regent of the Chantry here in Los Angeles. Moreover, the Tremere Primogen of Los Angeles. I do hope you that you understand how mutually beneficial it would be to... cooperate... with the others of your bloodline." He spoke, each of his words calculated and concise.

He turned on his heel, opening the door of the manor and entering, expecting Myra to follow. The Prince would be waiting for them in the dining hall, seated in a fine black leather chair, his glass of... wine, in hand.

"Thank you Gallus." The Prince said with a nod to the Primogen. A simple nod back was what Antonius offered the Prince, before standing to the side and watching the two.

Giovanni Marcellus took a long look at Myra, his raven black hair and piercing eyes almost looking deep into her soul. That is, if she had one.



"You come to my city at interesting times, Ms. Amdis." The Prince said with a sigh, taking a sip from his glass.

"I do hope you understand that... residing in my city, comes with certain responsibilities. I am sure you are aware of the Masquerade, of course... However, there have been a few recent complications." He drawled, taking another sip.

"But before we begin in tiresome politicking, tell me, Ms. Amdis, what brings you to Los Angeles?"

@Ktala

Unknown Warehouse, Santa Monica, L.A

It was an unusual day for Sal Gibraltar. Having been working for his boss, Jack, at his tavern and illegal fight club. Jack had wanted Sal to come along on a job with him. A deal with some Russian gang. Whiskey and tobacco was being passed around. The soft hiss of burning cigars could be heard every now and then.

The office Jack used was situated within a large warehouse, holding many crates of who knows what. Sal's boss sat at his desk, chatting away with the Russian mobster ahead of him. Jack was unaware of Sal's "condition", as was everyone in the room. He merely viewed Sal as a highly effective bouncer. The reason he had been brought along was to be a bodyguard for Jack.

Sure, Jack often thought, the guy was a bit weird. A total night owl. But he was damn good at what he did, and Jack was well used to asking no questions.

Jack puffed away on his cigar, grinning as the Russian mobster detailed their new deal. It at that moment Sal heard it before anyone else.

Someone had just walked into the warehouse. Looking out from the windows of Jack's office would reveal this new figure. A man with his hoodie pulled all the way up, wearing nothing but black. This couldn't be good. Jack had told Sal that nothing could go wrong with this deal.

Their was a sudden crash as the man knocked down something. Intentional? It remained to be seen, but everyone else suddenly craned their necks to find the source of the disturbance.

Jack quickly looked to Sal as they all began to notice the new visitor. He didn't even need to say anything to him, as it was all in his eyes.

Deal with this.

@Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Giovanni De Montenegro
Teatro dei vampiri, Downtown L.A.

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To say he was pleased that he’d been furnished with orchestra seating would be an understatement. Positioning was indicative of power and influence, whether one admitted it or not. Those seated in their own private balconies would certainly agree.

Therefore, it was good no longer being assigned to the mezzanine.

Still, this was an important gathering. There were so many kindred under one roof, from so many clans, mostly Toreador, Tremere and Ventrue, admittedly. It was almost overwhelming, if you really thought about it.

Ah, the possibilities…

But - even a day’s old fledgling could sense the Camarilla would brook no mischief this night.

As for himself, Giovanni was just finished inspecting the two rings he currently wore on his left hand. One was a silver ring with a stone of Ruby, believed to have belonged to Countess Elizabeth Báthory de Ecsed. The other was also of a ring of silver, but crowned with a Blood Opal, the original owner is said to have been none other than Morgan Le Fey herself. Needless to say, authenticity was all important to Giovanni, but the aura the rings themselves emanated, more so. That they were part of his priceless collection probably mattered as well.

In short order, the Prince began his address. A small, yet brief smile of amusement dance upon his overly handsome face. That he and their Prince shared a name in common was…a happy coincidence, if nothing else.

The seriousness of the matter was soon revealed. A kindred had violated one of the sacred rules. So, the rumors were true after all. Giovanni sighed at the news. This could make business somewhat, problematic. That the Prince called for a Blood Hunt was a surprisingly strong response, but likely not without justification, now that the rumors were proven to be true.

Giovanni did not turn his head upon picking up whispers spoken by others, already condemning Gangrels or Brujah. Regardless of who it was, the unlucky fledgling was fortunate the Prince had not declared a ‘kill on sight’ mandate. That always turned out to be a messy affair, especially if the wrong kindred was executed by an overzealous ‘rival’.

In this case, the Price alone reserved the right to end the guilty party’s embrace and bring forth their Final Death.

Giovanni shook his head from these thoughts, though he did wonder who would be foolish enough to violate the Masquerade.

Icy-grey eyes gazed about as the gathering came to a close and kindred began to make their exit. Giovanni remained seated, taking in his surroundings. He did not fail to notice Primogen Gallus making a quick exit.

That was intriguing.

The Malkavian Primogen, Justin Faber was also in attendance.That was another intriguing surprise.

Oh, but what about the Anarchs? Seeing The Sheriff in attendance caused him to ponder certain possibilities. Finding the violator would certainly grant one favor within the Camarilla, but doing exactly that couldn’t possibly be that easy.

Giovanni took a moment to ponder the mystery. Where would he hide after committing such an act?

These thoughts flooded his mind just then, however, upon seeing the Toreador Primogen, Florian Capet, Giovanni found himself rising from his seat as if compelled by an unseen force.

The Crimson Rose

Despite being a Toreador himself, Giovanni hadn’t had the honor of meeting his own Primogen, much less seen ‘The Crimson Rose’ with his own eyes. His initial thought was to simply introduce himself, but he thought better of it. Decorum and protocol needed to be observed at all times.

If nothing else, those who were the embraced, had time on their side. Therefore, a respectful nod would have to do for now. Certain events did not need to be rushed.

Giovanni, dressed in finery of black velvet brocade, offered a respectful bow towards his Primogen, regardless if he would be noticed or not.

A blood Hunt had been declared on this rainy night, and the possibilities….they were endless.


Tag: @Shadowsun, @DarkLordoftheFins, @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

IC: Florian Capet, The Crimson Rose
Los Angeles Theatre, Downtown L.A.

It had always aggravated Florian Capet that blood could only be stored for a little more than a month. Oh of course it was a vast improvement from his 'youth' when a single night passing by was enough to ruin a fine beverage. It was because of this that Florian viewed humans, in the same manner, that one might view a glass bottle that contained wine. Useful, but you did not care for it. The bottle could tell you a lot about its contents. How pretentious it found itself, if it were harvested during a good year, if it came from a good vineyard... humans and vampires displayed themselves much in the same way. And just as a fine wine connoisseur had mastered how to truly read a bottle, Florian Capet had mastered how to read people. It was his Auspex taken to an extreme.

That was why the Malkavian unnerved him so, their Primogen in particular who Florian had yet to meet. They were a small collection of the only beings that the Crimson Rose could not get a handle on.

It was this line of thought that flowed slowly through Capet's mind as the Prince spoke.

"But unfortunately, this kindred has left me no choice. I must call a Blood Hunt." The undead eyes of Florian crept up towards the Prince. His smooth, pallid white hand pressed gently against his cheek. He found it odd that the precise nature of the crime had not been given. Though they are either slain another vampire in some form or had breached the overall security of the Masquerade...

The Prince bid them good evening and Florian gave a respectful nod before rising and moving with an inhuman grace up and out. He felt the rest of them, he did not expend the effort to move his eyes to view them. Instead, his eyes focused on nothingness, his mind elsewhere as he flexed his fingers. Laying a soft, ghostly hand across the shoulder of Giovanni de Montenegro.

"It is a warm pleasantry to see another Toreador present at such a meeting, as unfortunate as it is. I am sure you will do fine work in finding this... unfortunate, lost lamb," His voice was smooth, a soft accent of French carried across it that had eroded slowly over the centuries.

There it was again, to the side of him. That unreadable aura of the Malkavian. It irked him more than he cared to admit. The smallest movement of his undead eyes toward Vince as he spoke again.

"And what interest does the Leader of the Anarch have in a Blood Hunt?" he inquired softly.

TAG: @greyjedi125 @Master Vo'Un'Var @DarkLordoftheFins

 

Justin Faber
Los Angeles Theatre, Downtown L.A.

He was still confused by these meetings. Actually everybody else seemed very old around here while Justin was the young one.

Maybe let me handle this …

Well, there had been a crime. A breach of tradition called the Maquerade. He knew about that one and it always seemed to make sense to hide their existence from people. But this breach has obviously been serious and the guy called the Prince … he always wondered if there was a King around … had declared a Blood Hunt. Meant the one who had done the breach was the one who was hunted right? They would hunt him, because they were the ruling body of the city. Obviously there was no vote and funny enough they did not even know who this man was it seemed. No name was given.

„So, we actually hunt for someone or anyone, which means we have no idea who we are hunting, which again means the powers to be need to find out, which then again mens what? Elders grabbing puppies and torturing them until one confesses? That is not a hunt, it is a bloodbath in the making if you guys ask me.“ Justin shrugged and realized he was lot sure who he was talking to.

Oh poor boy. Your world still exists under the illusion leader should be qualified, hm? We just pick the Ventrue idiot available, because nobody wants the job.


„Well, we are meant to maintain the masquerade, right? That happened on the streets? Two flies with one swipe? We should get the camera footage.“ Justin nodded and got out his phone. „Maybe press statement gives us the name of the investigating detective?“

As if we could care less? Then again, this boy is showing a bit more initiative. Maybe this is what he needs?

„On my way I am gonna check social media etc. maybe some odd posting reveals the guy?“

Whatever.

„Truth is I hold some sort of responsibility as a member of this council, right? So if I do not find that guy a lot of elders will rip puppy arms off and that cannot be in our interest …“

Oh you would not believe at what low standard our specific bloodline is held when it comes to fulfilling her duties.

„So who Are those guys? The posh one keeps on looking at me? For a change I would prefer to get some useful info from you.“

Toreador. They probably never seen such stupid. Get used to it. You will get it a lot.

„That supposed to be funny? Humor is not your strong side. Seriously, just keep the grumpy old vampire thing up. More your style.“ Justin winked at his own reflection in a window and then checked the news again. So who was leading the case?

Tag: @greyjedi125 @Master Vo'Un'Var, @Shadowsun

 

IC: Giovanni De Montenegro
A chance meeting

It was no small feet, sneaking up on Giovanni. Well, let’s just say that no mere human could achieve such a feat, not with his enhanced senses and all of his preternatural gifts. However, here, at a gathering of kindred, well, that dynamic changed quite dramatically.

Despite himself, Gio did gasp, a barely audible sound. He had not expected such familiar contact in this place, much less from the Toreador Primogen himself.

“Lord Capet….” Giovanni found himself saying aloud, almost reverentially. Florian Capet was not only a fellow artist and aesthete, but he was an exemplar, a vampire of vampires, one who embodied the very essence of their undead existence.

“It is a great honor to finally make your acquaintance.” Giovanni intoned smoothly, as he came up from an officious bow.

< Je suis un admirateur de votre travail depuis de nombreuses années >

*I’ve been an admirer of your work for many years*

Giovanni offered genial smile. He had detected the Primogen’s french accent, and as was his custom, he'd decided to address the subject in their native tongue. Being a polyglot afforded him this facility, which was one of the many talents he'd possessed when he was alive.

“As for the perpetrator I’m certain we’ll….”

Something or someone had drawn away the Primogen’s attention. Giovanni’s icy-grey gaze followed Florian’s line of sight and found him addressing the Anarch Leader. Vince the Sheriff.

Hmmm. That was curious. In truth, such was Giovanni’s curiosity, that he merely took a single step back, no more. Clearly, nothing untoward could happen in Ventrue territory, but his curiosity had been peaked just the same.

Movement caught Gio’s attention just then, he half turned in time to see Justin Faber, the Malkavian Primogen, whom the Crimson Rose had been eyeing just moments earlier. Giovanni was too far to hear, but he observed the kindred speaking to his reflection? Or so it seemed. Madness. Though he could not hear, Giovanni could still read his lips, or some of it at least.

‘check social media….’

Hmm. Not a bad idea.

Though he personally agreed with this, once again, there was the matter of decorum and protocol. Gio could be daring, without a doubt. But even he had better sense than to take out his cellphone in the presence of his own Primogen, whom he had just met. Literally.

Whatever was being said on the web, would have to wait a moment longer. Besides, Giovanni knew of a certain ‘club’ where information and favors were traded, if one knew who to ask.


Tag: @Shadowsun, @DarkLordoftheFins, @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

Abella (Maya) Amdis
And so, it begins


Maya made sure to dress appropriately. After all, she was to meet the 'Prince' regent of the area.. Having never met one before, she wanted to make sure she made proper impression. After all, is she was to 'work' in this area, then she needed to make sure she did not step on any toes. Not that she needed them, but best to not make enemies that were not needed. And besides, it could be useful, if they guided some towards her business. Her best armor vest, was carefully concealed under her clothing. Her clothing, business styled, tailored, with a long skirt with appropriate slit up the side. It was a wonderful shade of deep burgundy. Like that of a fine wine. Her hair, pulled up and styled proper, with her hairpins in place. She mulled over her thoughts as she meticulously applied her lipstick. She had learned much in the weeks she had investigated the area. She learned that their was a Prince that ruled over this area. Which meant that the Camarilla was was active here. Then that most probably meant, that the Masquerade was played here as well. That makes sense. She simply hoped that this person was not the type that demanded tribute. Or other 'perks' for the privilege's of operating in their area. It was a natural response. With any high end predator, order must be established. And it was important to know one's place. But she would simply keep her options open for now. Now was the time for the meetings..

The ride there was in silence. She was thankful. The night felt active and electric. They ended up in the hills. Beverly Hills. They reached an expansive home. Impressive to say the least. But, she would expect nothing less. The chauffer opened the door, as Mya stepped out, inspecting her surroundings.

"The Prince's abode, Ms. Amdis." The chauffeur informed, before stepping out of her way.

Another man stood at the entrance of the building. This one was not a servant. She could tell that immediately. Calculated and cold. He waited for Myra to approach the entrance, before introducing himself.

"Abella Amdis. I am Gallus. Antonius Gallus. The Regent of the Chantry here in Los Angeles. Moreover, the Tremere Primogen of Los Angeles. I do hope you that you understand how mutually beneficial it would be to... cooperate... with the others of your bloodline." He stated with words that were calculated and concise.

Ahh. That explained much. She might need him, if she had to make use of their chantry. But she had her own for now. "Indeed." she responded softly. He turned on his heel, opening the door of the manor and entered. She followed, letting her eyes flicker about, as she studied the room. There was a figure in what she assumed to be the dinning area, sitting in a fine black leather chair, his glass of... wine, in hand.

"Thank you Gallus." The Prince said with a nod to the Primogen. A simple nod back was what Antonius offered the Prince, before standing to the side and watching the two. Interesting. She turned her eyes to study the Prince.

Giovanni Marcellus took a long look at Myra, his raven black hair and piercing eyes almost looking deep into her soul. She met his gaze, not staring as he was, for that might be considered 'rude'.. but she held her own, as she slowly dipped her head in respect.

"You come to my city at interesting times, Ms. Amdis." The Prince said with a sigh, taking a sip from his glass. 'Interesting times?' she thought to herself. 'Has something happened?' she wondered. He then continued.

"I do hope you understand that... residing in my city, comes with certain responsibilities. I am sure you are aware of the Masquerade, of course... However, there have been a few recent complications." He drawled, taking another sip.

She moved to stand behind a chair, not touching it.. She knew she could not take a seat unless invited. The word complications seemed to prove her earlier concerns. Something has happened that has caused the Kindred to be on edge. What could have them on edge. The prince spoke once more.

"But before we begin in tiresome politicking, tell me, Ms. Amdis, what brings you to Los Angeles?"

Again, Maya nodded her head. "Prince Marcellus, my reasons for being in Los Angeles are simple. By business is in consulting, and I need an infrastructure diverse enough to keep my investments busy." Maya gently stroked her chin. "I also work in translations, and I hope this area is fertile for my business." Maya grew quiet, as she waited for the Prince to respond.



TAG: @Master Vo'Un'Var

 

IC: Sal Gibraltar
Unknown Warehouse, Santa Monica, L.A

It was an unusual day for Sal Gibraltar. The day itself, was not weird. No, what qualifies for that was a lifetime ago. There was that one Sargent, now that guy still qualified! Still, Jack had wanted Sal to come along on a job with him. Side hustles always meant he would some extra money. Not that he really was hurting for it, but with a life like his, some unexpected expenses could be extremely costly. Best to have enough tucked away for three such events in no less than three different parts of the world. Live like a pauper, sleep like a King. As the saying went, so a quick deal it was. A deal with some Russian gang. Whiskey and tobacco was being passed around. The soft hiss of burning cigars could be heard every now and then. The scent of the smoke was like small flaring fires that ripped across his senses, leaving a nearly stunned sensation in its wake until the next cloud rolled through his senses.

The office Jack used was situated within a large warehouse, holding many crates of who knows what, he wasn’t being paid to care and he couldn’t think of a scenario where he would. Sal's boss sat at his desk, chatting away with the Russian mobster ahead of him. That was his real focus, if things went south and he had to step in. So far everyone was friendly, happy. Nothing to concern him. Not from inside this room.

It at that moment Sal heard it before anyone else.

Someone had just walked into the warehouse.

Looking out from the windows of Jack's office revealed this new figure. A man with his hoodie pulled all the way up, wearing nothing but black. Looks like tonight wasn’t destined to be easy money. Jack had told Sal that nothing could go wrong with this deal. This was obviously something. Reaching into his jackets pocket he pulled out a set of brass and steel rings to slot in on his fingers that were bare. Smart man’s set of knuckles that didn’t raise the authorities or a pat downs eyes.

Their was a sudden crash as the man knocked down something. Intentional? Most likely, so that would make this an overconfident problem, or others were coming as backup. It remained to be seen, but everyone else suddenly craned their necks to find the source of the disturbance as they finally caught on that something was happening.

Jack quickly looked to Sal as they all began to notice the new visitor. He didn't even need to say anything to him, as it was all in his eyes.

Deal with this.

With a deliberate slow nod he slowly stood and left as if nothing was wrong in the world. When the knowledge it was likely about to go sideways loomed in his mind.

Closing the door behind him he cracked the handle as quick and quietly as possible before heading towards the man. “Warehouse closed. You don’t want anything here. Leave.” He softly growled towards the man, making it so if a normal person the man would have to strain to understand what he said. Arms half raised in front of him.

@Master Vo'Un'Var