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Post by Cesare Valente on Dec 29, 2011 23:56:35 GMT -8
Cesare stood on the outskirts of the cemetary leaning against a tree. He needed some time away from the Chantry, from it's rigid structures, courtesies, and politics. Just a quiet place to think and comptemplate for an hour or two. He was watching the remnents of a funeral procession that had lingered past dusk. People hugging, crying, and holding each other close as they mourned over a stiff corpse. He smirked at that thought and what they might be telling each other. "He's in Heaven now, she's in a better place, we'll be with each other again." he imagined them saying. "Sheep" he thought. "They'll be together again... in the digestive tract of a grave worm." Religion was only the carrot to convince others to commit to suffering at the behest of another. Years of disdain reflected from altercations with priests and religious scholars over the "moral character" of his work. Science cannot be held in check by the superstitions of old doddering fools trying to be masters of a human soul. That's the job of a Kindred.
He lit a cigarette up to conceal the lack of breath that hunters and the clever sort notice. The oldest tricks still helped Cesare blend in. He had to constantly train himself to breath when lecturing to his students. He had the next semester's course work prepared as the holiday period was almost over. The aftermath of the Night of Madness and the Blood Hunt of Drucilla ended with a whisper. There was enough embaressment within the City over a neonate who managed to eat her way through several vampires and elude the Scourge and Sheriff at the same time. No, not a good month to be in the City. The politics will be shifting after this. It wasn't a priority to the Tremere, but we didn't survive for this long by being ignorant of the other clan games. Still things have been quiet at least for a couple of weeks... well outside the Chantry at least. His workload will be increasing tenfold if the rumors are correct. "The price of success and the price of loyalty", he thought as took another drag off his cigarette.
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Post by Saffron Joy on Jan 24, 2012 0:42:43 GMT -8
Dressed in one of her darker bohemian dresses and covered by a black shawl, Saffron went virtually unnoticed as she trudged around the grove that lined St. Vitus in search of a certain herb for her shop. With basket in hand she wove her way around the trees, inspecting the underbrush for her treasure.
The glow from a cigarette captured her attention and she began meandering in that direction not making any particular effort at keeping her presence a secret from what appeared to be man leaning against a tree. With her second sight she could see that he was kindred, but she could not say that she recognized the silhouette.
Being a friendly entrepreneur she, of course, maintained course to cross the path of the gentleman. She was not certain however that he was aware of her presence as he seemed fixated on a group of grieving kine.
Upon closer inspection she knew who he was though they'd yet to meet. With a slight grin on her face, amused at her own facetiousness she began in a low voice meant for him to hear. "You don't tug on superman's cape, you don't spit into the wind, you don't pull the mask off the old lone ranger and you don't sneak up on Tremere..."
Saffy watched and waited for Cleo's childe to respond. The Tremere were always... well, creepy.
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Post by Cesare Valente on Jan 24, 2012 4:44:55 GMT -8
From out of the corner of his he noticed a silhouette clothed in black approaching him. He takes another puff of his cigarette before politely stubbing it out against a leather boot heel then laying a relaxed hand upon the vial pouch he keeps near him out of caution. Upon her words he glances in her direction, a familiar face, but not recognizing her immediately. He gives a genuine laugh before responding with a hint of an Italian accent.
"There is a certain bit of truth behind that statement, Senora. Especially over the past few months with all the... events that have been occuring of late."
He straightens from his relaxed position agains the tree and then giving a formal bow to the woman out of courtesy.
"Forgive me Senora, I do not believe we have formally met. I am Cesare Valente. And you are?"
He patiently waits for the mysterious woman's response.
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Post by Saffron Joy on Jan 26, 2012 0:39:46 GMT -8
These formal Tremere always took her by surprise. It was like they were channeling elders or something. Always following the etiquette of yesteryear. It wasn't unpleasant or off-putting, just a bit unsettling in a 'should I bow back?' sort of way. Kind of like doing business with the Chinese.
Saffron. Joy. She smiled and held out her hand to shake his in a friendly, casual sort of way, opting to go with just being herself rather than falling into all the formal niceties. Saffron Joy. Owner and proprietor of Mad Hatter's Tea and Yoga Emporium and Whip of the the ever fluctuating Malks of Sunnydale.
She knew those of her clan tended to disappear for a multitude of reasons. Sadly, she knew that the recent culling was a culling and not a mass exodus. It was still being investigated. The web was humming with theory and conjecture.
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Post by Ghost on Jan 26, 2012 1:12:48 GMT -8
Ghost didn't come to the cemetary very often. It was a lousy place to hunt, and there were only a very few reasons to come here at all. One of those reasons had been plaguing him for months, whether he should go forward with that damned offer or not. Despite his higher functions, despite what the Fish had said, despite everything, he had nearly succumbed to temptation tonight.
He had come to the godforsaken graveyard with all of it charming, yet also depressing trappings of death and religion and almost ignored everything, throwing caution to the wind. But Ghost had never been overly impulsive in life, and his patience had carried over into his death. He had stopped himself, and was making his way back to the Warrens, lost in thought, hidden in the shadows of his mental cloak.
So wrapped up in his own thoughts was Ghost that he didn't notice the two kindred until he was nearly upon them. Cesare and Saffron. Two people he wasn't particularly thrilled to see these days. And how odd that they would be standing off Elysium grounds together. He listened to their words and realized that this was as much a chance enounter for each of them as it was for him. Small world. Seeing that the mortals were still about, he allowed himself to wear a human face. Albeit, one that was familiar to them both. One of his 'professional' faces. He even made himself appear in a dark funeral suit. Then he let his mental cloak drop.
He approached openly, without stealth now. "Surely it must be a most remarkable coincidence that I run into not one, but two chance enounters so simultaneously tonight."
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Post by Cesare Valente on Jan 27, 2012 3:25:44 GMT -8
She seemed to put on a carefree sort that Malkavians can tend to favor but the weight of leadership always leaves its mark. Cesare shakes hands warmly with Saffron with his smile turning somber.
"A pleasure to meet you Saffron.. and my sympathies for your Clan's recent troubles."
He was about to continue speaking when the man dressed in a dapper funeral suit had walked up to them. Ghost, Sunnydale's own resident information and one of Jun's coterie mates. Not a particular kindred in whose company Cesare would enjoy, but there was nothing to be accomplished by being rude.
"Well now, A Ghost in the graveyard. I'd say that would be another coincidence. What brings you about tonight sir?"
He eyes Saffron careful, watching her reaction. Cesare believed the kooks and the sewer rats must not be getting along well lately. And Ghost did kill her clanmate Drucilla, though it was a sanctioned blood hunt by the Prince. This could get interesting, he mused.
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Post by Ghost on Jan 27, 2012 11:24:34 GMT -8
"Why, history bring me here," Ghost said without missing a beat. "St. Vitus is famous, did you know that? No less than three famous people have permanent residences in this charming bit of earth. The great comedian, San Kinison lies in this place, dead nearly 20 years now. Edgar Allan Poe, as well, despite him having lived in the Bronx all his life. The one I am visiting tonight, however, was the great business entrepreneur and con man P.T. Barnum. Now there was a man who knew how to keep an audience riveted while pulling a fast one right before their clueless eyes."
Ghost stretched languidly, as if soaking in the ambience of the place. He noticed the basket Saffron was carrying, and took in Cesare's posture. Saffron seemed friendly, casual. just a woman gathering herbs or berries or whatever it was that this particular Kook's madness drove her to seek. Cesare seemed polite, but quietly guarded. And if Ghost didn't know better, he would have sworn the man had bags under his eyes, like he had been working endlessly. Ghost understood that. The old adage was true: there really was no rest for the wicked.
"So it's your turn," Ghost commented. "You know why I'm here. What brings you two out to these grieving grounds?"
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Post by Saffron Joy on Jan 27, 2012 11:35:26 GMT -8
Saffron could feel her spine go rigid at the mention of Ghost being present. She kept her back to him as he began his conversation. Rumblings of him and his dealings reverberated along the web. Some was common knowledge; other information was spreading like wildfire. His snarky tone was grating and it took a good amount of willpower to plaster her signature serene expression on her face before turing to face him.
”Why, I’m here to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight.” She grinned and beamed with mischievous eyes.
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Post by Ghost on Jan 27, 2012 16:38:14 GMT -8
Saffron's serene smile was almost perfectly placid, her response typically unhelpful for one of her clan. He couldn't be too irritated, however; his own answer had been equally deceptive, if less infantile.
He had almost accepted her childish platitude and whiskey smile. The only thing that made him question it was the briefest fluctuations of tension in her muscles. Since kindred don't have random muscle spasms, he had to wonder just how much his presence bothered the madwoman.
He also had to wonder how many strokes it would take him to sever her head from her spine if she attacked him like so many of her clanmates had. But he knew better than that; Malkavians are far too cunning to attack head-on, and many aren't as crazy as they let others believe, he half-suspected. And as much as he had come to loathe their clan in recent months, he didn't know of any harm that Saffron in particular had directed his way. He had to practice tolerance if they were all to get past the recent troubles between clans Malkavian and Nosferatu.
All of these thoughts ran through Ghost's head in the flash of an instant. He offered a crooked smile in response to her witticism. "Charming," he said drily. He glanced over at Cesare, arching a quizzical eyebrow. "And you, Mr. Valente?"
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Post by Cesare Valente on Jan 28, 2012 0:11:22 GMT -8
Cesare resumed leaning against the tree he was originally relaxing against. He found himself amused by her cryptic yet dead on response from a certain point of view. Not that Ghost or himself for that matter would be wicked enough to be consider the devil, but both sides probably wouldn't hesitate to pull a card from the devil's bag of tricks every once in a while. Seeing that his company is only Kindred, he proceeded to lit up another cigarette, careful to blow the smoke away from the others. His eyes were on Saffron for the most part, but turned his attention back to Ghost at his inquiry.
"Quietest place in Sunnydale to be, Ghost. Not a bad place to work out a few kinks in my syllabus for the new students I get to torment this semester. Besides that I was hoping to find some mandrake growing on a grave at midnight.
A bit of truth mixed in with a lie. Kindred do love to doublespeak when they wish to keep their affairs private, though Cesare had little to hide other than himself. Besides, any Tremere knows that mandragora has to be planted on a fresh grave first for it to reach it's magical potency.
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Post by Cesare Valente on Feb 1, 2012 5:07:35 GMT -8
He takes another drag of his cigarette as an uncomfortable silence falls among the three. Well, now the the sullen unpleasantness has been established, let's see if they know anything worth sharing, he thought to himself. He clears his throat before speaking again.
"There was some... intrusions I believe of a scrying nature at our last gathering. Cindi was quite distressed over it as were a few others. Whoever is behind it believes we as Kindred have something it wants. Either of you heard anything concerning this?"
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Post by Ghost on Feb 2, 2012 10:41:33 GMT -8
Ghost arched an eyebrow at Cesare's statement and offered a half-disgusted snort of derision, though it was not directed at either of the kindred present.
"There is always something, isn't there? As someone who spends a great deal of his time digging up dirt, finding skeletons in closets, and unearthing old buried secrets, I can't entirely fault whoever is doing this, though it seems that the effort is somewhat amateurish if so many random people are being targeted."
Ghost leaned back against a gravestone, stretching expansively and listening to joints pop. Being kindred, he no longer got stiff or sore from simple physical exertion or lack thereof, but he did enjoy the sensation of his dead bones shifting about, and of the sounds of the joints popping. He wondered how long he would have to live before that old human pleasure faded even from memory.
Glancing back at his compatriots, he brought his mind back to Cesare's question, began considering possibilities.
"If it's a kindred doing the searching, there are more efficient ways of searching among us. It could be some kind of animal possession, I suppose. Some intrepid kindred cruising around inside of insect hosts and tracking people that way, or maybe someone flitting about astrally, though I hear that's been checked for and found not to be the case. Or maybe it's some kind of Tremere spell. Isn't your clan supposed to be in the know about something like that, Cesare?" He let that question linger a moment, allowing the various implications sink in, then continued on before he could be interrupted.
"And if it's something else... who knows? Some obscure crystal ball-gazing Wiccan trying to learn about us, or maybe we're all being stalked by lupines, or it could be one of those human wizards that I occasionally hear ghost-stor-- er rumors, about. Then again, it could be entirely mundane. Maybe someone hacked into a security grid and is doing some peeping-tom action through cameras. You know, like Vampire porn, only for realsies."
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Post by Cesare Valente on Feb 8, 2012 1:10:10 GMT -8
Cesare smirked at the implication that Ghost made. Of course, it was to be expected. Anytime that magical mishaps or anything "unexplained" happened.. Clan Tremere was usually first to be blamed. No one trusted the Warlocks, and with good reason, because Clan Tremere serves Clan Tremere first, then the Camarilla. However, when the clan is blamed for something they weren't involved in, it does bear investigating. Some of Ghost remarks were curious however, Vampires possessing insects? How strange and paranoia inducing. Cesare mused on speaking with Parkov about possible safeguards against that sort of thing. He was about to respond to Ghost when his cell phone piped in with a operatic rendition of "Vide Cor Meum". He sighed in annoyance and raised his hand briefly to excuse himself.
"Saluto?"
He listens quietly to the other person on the phone and his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Lupino?"
He nodded along with the person on the other side of the phone.
"Sì, lo sarà a breve. Arrivederci."
He hangs up and puts the phone away, shaking his head.
"It seems Lupines are to blame after all. Please excuse me, but it seems my workload has just been doubled. Saffron, pleasure to meet you. Perhaps I could stop by your place of business sometime and continue our chat? And Ghost, I'm sure we'll be in touch."
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Post by Ghost on Feb 8, 2012 11:15:35 GMT -8
Ghost cocked an ear straining to listen to Cesare's conversation. He was comfortable in the knowledge that he would be able to translate the Italian, though it just seemed like more work... Then Cesare's english response resolved that issue.
Lupines.
They were the ones stalking the City's kindred. Or was it all some sort of ploy on Cesare's part to misdirect him? He wouldn't put it past the wily Tremere, it was in fact something Ghost might do himself. Nevertheless, he couldn't just dismiss what he had heard. From what little he had heard of the creatures, they made the most violent and powerful Brujah and Gangrel quiver in their boots with well-deserved fear.
When Cesare made his goodbyes Ghost merely nodded. He would discover the truth for himself, and if Cesare wasn't lying... there were new rules to follow, new protocols to establish. One thing he and Cesare had in common right now: they both had a lot of work to do. It was time to get to it.
"Well, Saffron, it seems there is indeed no rest for the wicked. I, too, must get back to work. It's been a pleasure." He offered a brief bow, though he never took his eyes off the Kook, and called on the powers of his Blood to cloak himself from observation. He wouldn't be surprised if Saffron could still see him, but better safe than sorry. He made his departure from the graveyard and crawled into the nearest sewer entrance.
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