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Old 02-16-2018, 05:55 AM
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August Halls

OOC: Herein one can find information on those who are in power in the Camarilla.

The Inner Circle - The Inner Circle is the organizing council of the Camarilla. Practically nothing is known about the Inner Circle, which takes pains to keep the identity of its members hidden. The public face of the Inner Circle are the Justicars and their Archon assistants. Members of the Inner Circle elect Justicars and otherwise establish the principles of Camarilla law.

The Inner Circle is often assumed to be a council of the most powerful Princes in the Camarilla. It is thought that Hardestadt, one of the sect's Founders, holds a seat in the Inner Circle.

The Justicars - The Conclave in 2011 elected new Justicars. The Justicars appointed there include a Gangrel Justicar, the first since Xaviar. As well as one of the Assamite Schismatics.

The appointed Justicars are:

Juliet Parr, Justicar of Clan Malkavian
Manuela Cardoso Pinto, Justicar of Clan Brujah
Geoffrey Leigh, Justicar of Clan Gangrel
Molly MacDonald, Justicar of Clan Nosferatu
Diana Iadanza, Justicar of Clan Toreador
Ian Carfax, Justicar of Clan Tremere
Lucinde, Justicar of Clan Ventrue
Kasim Bayar, Justicar of the Assamite Schismatics

IC:

August 15th, 2015,
Midnight
London, England

The recent appointment of Edward O'Neil, Camillia LaStearn, Ervin Gul and Donald Bear has shocked many in the Elder Elysiums of the Camarilla world wide and caused quite the stir. Even the Justicars who seem to know just about everything knew nothing of these appointments.

The summoned Archons find themselves below the London Library, sitting in a small study hall full of book shelves. Over in one corner are a row of research computers. Two tables have been set up in the middle of the room. Around one of the tables are four metal folding chairs. The other table has a single chair.
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Old 02-19-2018, 03:55 AM
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Arrival
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Ervin comes at London with personal chartered flight, arranged by his loyal ghoul, Süleyman. With that, he could avoid the cramp of sleeping under coffin and a lot of paperwork. After all, he could also arrange the time to avoid the hassle during the inconvenience time of flight.

After his arrival on London at 6 PM, he wears a formal suit for this meeting. He doesn't want to make bad impression to Justicar, especially Tremere Justicar, Ian Carfax, to whom he owed the position of Archon. Although rarely work together, Ervin is and has always considered as his assistant, albeit he also owes loyalty to his Sire, Abetorius. However, Abetorius is more and more absent from Cainites society and there were a lot of rumor about his demise. Ian Carfax is one of the supporter for Ankara chantry. It unique location making it a forefront against Assamite incursion and although some of them have entered Camarilla, old habit die hard.

Ervin walks with guide, presumably a ghoul, to a floor below London Library, half hour before midnight. Running late just make a wrong impression, while too soon make one look weak. But he is curious about the place structure and if he has made himself familiar, he could go here sometime later. He knows that the building should be heavily guarded, by security measure and by magical ward. But he is the one who play ahead and who knows what the future bring.

When he arrives, he could see two tables, one with four chair and the other one with only one chair. However, before he sits down, Ervin is taking interest to the book shelves. The choice of books would be something that reflect the owner of this place, so he browses the shelves for a good reading and feeling the owner's interest as well as seeing his surrounding for hidden trap or recconaissance.

 


 

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Old 02-19-2018, 01:00 PM
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Ezekiel left the shining city of Glasgow, his most recent primary residence within the UK, excited by whatever new prospects the Inner Council have in mind for him and the other appointees. He had only very recently begun his service under Molly MacDonald, the Justicar of Clan Nosferatu and she had quickly and efficiently put his strengths to use throughout the Americas and in Europe. Judging from his last communication with Molly, the fact that she of all kindred doesn't know what's going on is a matter of the highest order. Ezekiel can already see the upcoming conversation with her as she asks what happened in the meeting.

He had arrived in London a few days prior to the scheduled meeting time in order to re-familiarize himself with the location and enjoy a few nights of London's rack and famous nightlife. The evening of the meeting, Ezekiel waited nearby in the hour or so beforehand, secretly and silently watching the comings and goings, getting a feel for the night air.

Closing in on the meeting time by maybe twenty minutes Ezekiel walks inside the building, making himself noticed by the ghouled staff he makes his way down to the meeting place. Though not before making a text to ensure that one of his drivers would be bring a car to the area, within a few blocks, just in case it's needed. The mask he wears is the one he is currently known for in the UK so as not to cause any confusion or alarm based on his true form, a well practiced face to say the least.

Ezekiel enters with a calm and steady pace, taking stock of the room overall as he does so. The Kindred already in the room is recognized as Ervin Gul, an Archon of Carfax. Interrupting a Tremere while he's reading is not always the wisest move, learned from an ex-coterie mate and now Regent of Glasgow. For now Ezekiel will give Elder Gul his space and offer a respecting nod if a glance is shared.

Taking a glance at the tables and the setup it is clear that with four appointees and four chairs, that table is meant for us. Ezekiel is not the Prince of this city and has no intention of trying to push his weight around here so the solitary chair will be left alone. Ezekiel will sit at the rightmost chair and quite pointedly and deliberately take out his phone, turns it off and sit it face up on the table.

 

 

Last edited by Wes; 02-20-2018 at 08:44 AM.
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Old 02-20-2018, 05:05 AM
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Arrival
 

When selecting book for his amusement, Ervin realizes that someone else is coming. Well, it comes with no surprise since there are five chairs, there should be three other Archon that are being invited as well as one host that should reveal him/herself when the others have gathered.

Ervin takes a good look to the newcomer and then he smiles and says : (English) "Hello there. You must be Ezekiel, I presume?"

He doesn't recognize this man. Well, if he is Nosferatu Ezekiel, it is understandable. After all, Nosferatu are known for their capability in disguising themselves. But if he is indeed Ezekiel, then he is quite cunning one. Becoming a Prince not an easy task in modern world, moreover for someone that is rumored such young age.

 


 

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Old 02-20-2018, 08:16 AM
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Camellia rose early that night, as was her wont. Early enough to watch the last gasps of the slow summer sunset fading from the world, the streaks of orange sunlight bleeding out across the clouds long after the nebulous, luminous, electric sheep dreams had lit the city below. There was no true darkness to be found in London Town - not for centuries, since the industrial smogs had wrapped their city like a baby's blanket, beating back the darkness and reflecting their own hubris of streetlamps and hearthlights back at them.

Camellia's thoughts blur and swirl as she stands at the darkly tinted window of the latest of the lineage of Havens she keeps in London, the tall windows look out on the city with dizzying, almost suicidal daring from twenty stories above the ground. Her bed, hung heavy with thick cuurtains, is set in a back room, behind locked doors and reinforced walls away from the windows, but walls and locks are not a suitable frame of mind for the first task of the evening.

Camellia flirts with madness, running her mind along the fever bright lines of nightmare still clinging to her thoughts, following their threads beyond herself to the Weavery, where those thread s of her own fractures become part of the tapestry of the affliction of her clan - or the Gift, if certain elements were to be believed.

Camellia plucks the strings and feels them vibrate, looking for the one with that perfect resonance, that one which moved every night, spinning out into a distance of torpid centuries and unknown miles to where she couldn't follow.

Madeleine the thread thrums with her name as Camellia sends a Call down it, uncertain how much or how far it will travel. Answer me.

That done, Camellia jerks herself away from the Weavery, shuddering as the cobwebs of the Network fray against her mind with whispers of delusion, bathing herself in the cool darkness and silence of the apartment. She crosses to the bathroom - four and a half steps, through the open bedroom door - and turns on the shower, stepping into the cool water, without bothering to turn the lights on. Although it has been centuries since she accumulated the grime and sweat of humanity, the cleansing ritual focuses her, the pounding water drawing her out of her mind and the tangled webs in its depths.

Aleshka is waiting in the bedroom, when Camellia emerges from the bathroom, the light is turned on and she is standing quietly at the foot of the bed. She has likely been up for hours already, in the lower floor of the apartment, taking care of the minor neccessities of her still living body - she knows better than to disturb her Mistress before she hears the shower cease.

"Darling girl." Camellia beckons, and Aleshka crosses the room, tilting her head to bare her neck. Camellia gently takes her precious doll in her arms, one hand stroking her silken blond hair, already pulled to the side and dips her lips to Aleshka's throat.

"Mistress..." Aleshka steps back and bows her head, her eyes glazed with anti-psychotics and the after-effects of bliss. By contrast, Camellia can feel her own mind clearing and sharpening to focus as the medication in Aleshka's bloodstream flooded her own veins. "You have an invitation from Adelie to celebrate your rise in station, and it is two hours until you are required at the library. What do you require this evening?"

"A suit. And you may inform Adelie that it is unlikely I will be attending this evening." As Aleshka dresses her - a dark charcoal suit crafted from heavy wool, a white linen shirt, black leather gloves and flat-soled boots, reaching to the elbow and knee respectively - she runs through the plans for the evening. Ervin Gul - a Tremere bordering on renegade for the rigidity of that clan, who may know more about her own talents than he should, but doesn't seem inclined to call the wrath of clan or chantry down upon her. Donal the Bear, a Toreador warrior from Ireland who was embraced in her own home of France - Camellia had considered enquiring who exactly had sired him, but decided against it - it didn't much matter, and could be construed as unfriendly. Last was Ezekiel, practically a neonate by compared to the other three, far too young to be a Prince, let alone a former one - that spoke of dangerous talent, and an asset to the Sect.

The last item of clothing that Aleshka gave her was the soft scarf she tied about her throat, just tight enough that Camellia could feel its restriction every time she swallowed, a leash for the Beast.

Far too many kindred discounted their Beasts, denied what they lost as they slid into the abandon it afforded them. Camellia couldn't afford to. Some elders accused her of clinging to her lost mortality like a Neonate, sneered that it was fitting she lived among the poseurs that ruled Paris, but none of them realised what she saw. Each night, they rose later into the darkness and walked closer to the Final Death, their minds crystallising into old patterns until it wasn't just their body that was static. Camellia was almost seven hundred years old, but - although it had taken effort - she could pass through the modern nights as easily as the dark ages of her birth. She did not value the tenets of humanity, but she despised the alternative, and for her mockery of mortality, a mockery of morality was enough to keep her from succumbing to stagnation.

When she is armoured and her thick, coarse black hair is combed to a sleek luster, she dons her mask for the evening, smoothing out the gauntness of her flesh, drawing colour into her eyes and face until she no-longer looks like the husk of fever-devoured flesh that the plague left of her. They descend from the apartment silently, and Aleshka drives the car to the library. They arrive half an hour before midnight, and Camellia leaves her retainer at the front desk while she ventures among the shelves to attend the meeting, stepping through the door precisely fifteen minutes before midnight.

In the Meeting"Good evening, Ervin, Ezekiel." Camellia says crisply - she determined that English would be the best trade tongue for this group several nights ago. She offers Ervin a small smile - slightly challenging, slightly amused - and Ezekiel an appraising examination that included his phone placed upon the table. That could be interpreted in a number of ways, most easily as a slight.

None of the Justicars have arrived yet - just as well, because regardless of the time set for the meeting, if the Justicars were already there, you were already late. Camellia's oath of loyalty had been sworn to several of the Malkavian Justicars, from Camilla Banes, the first to bear that title, to the recently executed Maris Streck - despite what some people said of her affiliation with Violetta - who had served as the Toreador Justicar over the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries - and her Sire.

Juliet Parr was by far one of Camellia's preferred Justicars - she was usefully deranged, not hanging herself from crosses or trading slaves with diablerists.


OOC Malkavian Time: Try to contact Madeleine (if she is in city), 2 words per success
Dice Malkavian Time:
8d10smh9 1 ✘, 7 ✘, 1 ✘, 9 ✔, 7 ✘, 9 ✔, 3 ✘, 3 ✘ (2/8) Total = 40

Charmed Existence ignores a 1, so I get 1 net success/2 words 'answer me'.

Mask of 1000 Faces (Obfuscate 6)
Dice Manipulation+Acting:
6d10smh7 6 ✘, 4 ✘, 6 ✘, 8 ✔, 5 ✘, 2 ✘ (1/6) Total = 31

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Old 02-20-2018, 01:43 PM
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The meetingAs Camellia arrives and Ervin activates his Auspex, they and Ezekial notice a fellow sitting at one of the four chairs.
 
As the last of the invitees arrives, he jumps up and welcomes you with open arms.
 
"Bienvenue Camellia, je suis ravi de vous rencontrer."
"Gentlemen, a pleasure to meet such esteemed colleagues."
This is in a Received British accent so precise, that it has to be put on, or else he has been speaking with it for a very long time. "Call me Donal. I expect our Host... Hostess should be here shortly."

 
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Old 02-20-2018, 03:11 PM
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Just after Ezekiel placed the phone in front of him, Ervin expressed a greeting. Standing gently and turning to face the Kindred a warm and inviting smile finds it's way on to Ezekiel's face. "Indeed I am. It is excellent to meet you face to face at last Elder Gul"

Ervin's close scrutiny of his person is something Ezekiel would normally be offended at from a clan with the sight, especially in polite surroundings and what may be an Elysium. However, this is no normal situation so it is to be overlooked for now and he could hardly blame Ervin for being cautious. Ezekiel will also forgive Ervin 'forgetting' to address him properly as an Elder. He is used to Kindred looking upon his youth as a disadvantage.

"Only two left and then we will be enlightened. Are you as excited as I am Elder?"

When Camellia enters the room and greets those present, the warm smile that was offered to Ervin is outdone ever so slightly by the one he offers her. "Elder Camellia, a fine evening to you as well." His words are accompanied by a bow of the head, traditional of courtly gentlemen.

Ezekiel was about to say something along the lines of 'And then we were three' but it would seem the final member was among us the whole time. Thankfully, as a member of Clan Nosferatu, he was used to sudden appearances from those who cease cloaking themselves, so maintaining his composure is a simple task and that split second of anger at one who would act so foolishly as suddenly appearing within arms reach of several Elders is instantly sated on the realization of whom it was that appeared. Elder Donal was known to Ezekiel in some fashion already and as Donal speaks the wide smile narrows into a cheeky smile and a side to side shake of the head. The Toreador are a jovial sort after all... Well, most of the time.

"And then we were four." Ezekiel says as Donal finishes his entry. "Indeed. It is not often in my unlife a room will be filled with quite some many Elders as it will be tonight. I must say that I am filled with at least some confidence for the evening. I have not caught wind of any grave misdeeds by any of the Elders called aside me so that does lessen the chances of this being a negative invitation." Ezekiel knows well that he has done no wrong but the niggling thought at the back of his mind that the council may be unsatisfied with his performance vanishes

 


 


 

Last edited by Wes; 02-21-2018 at 11:29 AM.
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Old 02-21-2018, 03:13 AM
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Arrival
 


Noticing something, Ervin deactivates his eyes and says : (English)"Sorry for that, Elder Ezekiel. I need to make sure, since I got some... inconvenient rumor about our invitation here. So I am ... curious about today's invitation.

How was Glasgow? I heard that you did well there."




Then he hears the newcomer, Camellia, someone that he heard that studied in India of Saddhana art, despite Tremere chantry chagrin. Well, he admire such strong quality in a woman. So he returns the greeting : (English)"Good evening, Camellia. How was Paris?" in more cheerful tone.

Then he pays attention to the last one who just showing up, although because of his Auspex, Ervin could see Donal. Although some rumors are highly unlikely, but one thing that he could trust based upon his instinct : Donal is a warrior. He could hold on his own in combat, whether words or the real deal, and that he could respect well enough. So he replies :
(English)"And just call me Ervin. I hope they are coming shortly."

After that, he hears what Ezekiel said. Funnily that he said about misdeed. If character of our stature did indeed a mistake, and unable to hide it, then our power would disappear. And we are the one who would likely infiltrate his/her domain instead gathered here.

Well, silence would just make it awkward for everyone here, so Ervin just says : (English)"Well, if we are here not to punish someone, anyone know or at least hear any rumor about our invitation? Let us play guessing game before our host or hostess arrive, shall we?

Since I hear that most of us excel in infiltration, it might be that we need to infiltrate a hostile territory, maybe Sabbat's and do something unpleasant there. "


 

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Old 02-21-2018, 11:09 AM
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"No need for such formality, Ezekiel. By the nature of this summons, I imagine that by dawn, we will either be declared a coterie or meet the Final Death, and either way, formality seems pointless." Camellia says lightly, raising an eyebrow at the formality of Ezekiel's address - they are all of similar concrete rank in this room, regardless of the vagaries that bloodline, age and generation bring to play. And if she allows him to address her as Elder, then she would be obliged to do the same, and calling an Ancilla - and a new one at that, regardless of his accomplishments - Elder seemed childish. What she had heard of his exploits earned him a measure of provisional respect, but better to call a spade a spade, or in this case, Ezekiel.

"Paris is as it always is. The architecture may change, but it's proud arrogance and artistry is older than the stones of the city. I hear good things about your chantry in Angora." She uses the archaic name - cities that change their names irritate her, and Angora has had far too many for her to keep abreast of what hat it is wearing this decade.

"Bonsoir, Monsieur Donal," Camellia says cheerfully, turning to greet the Toreador, letting her Mask melt away. The slender curves of her face and limbs beneath the suit melt away into her true skeletal appearance. There is still evidence of those elegant features - maybe that is what she looked like in life - but her true form, despite her impeccable grooming and expensive clothes is undeniably, unselfconsciously ugly, not the result of any curse from the Embrace, but the disease that had ravaged her before. It is unsurprising that she is known to maintain good terms with a number of Nosferatu, trading information with the sewer rats - they appreciate such blatant lack of vanity - but that makes her residence in Paris, arguably the centre of Toreador power across the entire globe, and her apparently cordial relations with noted luminaries of the clan all the more surprising. Revealing the truth of her features to Donal like so is simultaneously a test, a slight and a chance - sitting invisibly in the room as he had was unquestionably rude, verging on bellicose, but to call him out would shift the blame for aggression onto herself. Instead, she scrapes at his Toreador sensibilities, matching subtle aggression for subtle aggression, waiting to see if it drives him to a more overt display that she can turn against him, or if he redeems himself - somewhat - by not flinching as she places her hands on his shoulders and kisses him once on each cheek in greeting, standing eye to eye with the muscular Toreador, matching his six feet of height inch for inch. "Vous parlez bien notre langue, la courtoisie est si délicieuse dans ces nuits brutes et modernes."
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Old 02-21-2018, 11:54 AM
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Conversation between Ervin and EzekielIt would appear by his statement that Ervin has managed to see through Ezekiel's guise, not something many in Ezekiel's experience have been capable of, making him exceptionally skilled in the sight indeed. Potentially a strong ally to garner for the future, depending on hos the night turns out. He had also made the choice to refer to him as an Elder which may set Ezekiel's demeanor at ease further, considering the greeting now officially complete, they could move on to business properly. "Ahh, I'll think no more of it Elder Gul. I too understand the necessity for caution in meetings of mystery such as this one. As for the city of Glasgow, it offered me many opportunities, trials by fire some would say, all of which has led me here."

 

The desire to dispense with formalities is quite a progressive approach for Elders in these nights but it is of course the choice of the Elder as to what they wish to be called. Her words are also likely true and not unlike the consideration Ezekiel had made during his journey this very night.
"Indeed" he says simply.

Ezekiel will listen to the ensuing conversation, purely to ensure he doesn't miss anything but he add little to the next few short exchanges, at least until Camellia lowers her own mask, revealing her real beauty beneath. A single eyebrow will lift on Ezekiel's mask and his smile turns from one of expected respect and politeness to one of genuine appreciation but he will say nothing further yet.

 

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Old 02-21-2018, 12:13 PM
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Donal lets escape a few light good natured chuckles at that which goes back and forth.

"Du nouveau prendre ce qui est précieux, mais gardez ce bien qui est ancien." The Parisien finds that she actually stands taller than the Toreador by a few inches. She also suspects that he knew of her actual appearance before she changes, as he exhibits not only no distaste, but no surprise either. "Few choices really, rogue Prince or Archon or else some association of Sabbat, Setities, or Anarchs. Perhaps hunters from outside the Kindred? I'll freely admit that I've heard little current that should require such a startling Coterie to be formed. Even the Justiciars seem surprised tho. But then, they were surprised when one of their own went rogue as well."

"Speculation is always a fun game. Although it is soon enough that we will be aimed at a target, whether as researchers, spies, or weapon. Not that there is much difference between the three."
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Old 02-21-2018, 09:33 PM
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Camellia smiles at Donal's composure, setting the matter of his entrance aside for now as she returns to English, crossing to the bookshelves as she addresses the room.

"There is one flaw in all this speculation." Camellia says, selecting one of the books apparently at random, and settling in at the table as she begins to page through it. "You all seem to assume that the purpose for which we are called is... immediate. We Archons tend to be more direct than most elders in pur dealings, but the Inner Circle are Methuselae who have moved hidden in the darkest depths of midnight for centuries. If they have called us to serve and not to die, I imagine that the purpose for that service will not come to fruit for decades at the least - an arrow primed for a sparrow that has not even hatched yet, that we may be loosed before it learns to fly." Camellia shrugs. "Of course, we will be put to use in the meantime, but it is sheer idiocy to only prepare for a disaster after it has transpired."
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Old 02-22-2018, 02:28 AM
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Gathering
 


After Camellia entrance that break up the tension between Ezekiel and himself, Ervin is focusing himself to the newcomer. When she says Angora, Ervin smiles wider. It is very seldom people that know the original name of Ankara indeed. It proves that she is a learned one.

So he replies : (English)"Good knowledge, Camellia. I seldom find people who know its ancient name."

Then he listens with smile when Donal and Camellia banter a bit in French. Ervin has impulse to enter the conversation, but he knows that he better not open this card. Not without perceived any advantage.

He listens to Donal and Camellia further response about his question. But it seems that they have no idea about what the invitation all about. Or they are too clever to leak it. Ezekiel is closing himself. It seems that he takes a hit, maybe two hits, and it sobers him about playing with Elders. A barb tongue is more deadly in Social encounter than Potence discipline. And Nosferatu aren't known for their social life. However, the interesting thing is Ervin expects that Ezekiel should hear something from his information network. But maybe he hopes too much.

So he enters the discussion between Donal and Camellia again : (English)"Camellia, that is dangerous position. Camarilla officially doesn't claim any influence of Methuselah in our sect, remember. If they are the one who truly order us here, I think they could affect us subtler, rather than invite us directly. And I reckon that this invitation wouldn't ask us for permanent relocation, although I don't mind to move here.

So, I think that we should be given immediate target, but it has a long term influence for someone. And I believe that we are here by our own personal power rather than our influence since we live in quite far with each other, except maybe you two.

Maybe we ought to hunt a Methuselah?"


He gives them thought provoking question at the end of his sentences, giving it as stimulant for further discussion rather than truly believing it.

 

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Old 02-22-2018, 04:54 AM
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Ervin's examination of the small collection of books seems to reveal no particular pattern or subject focus, just a collection of assorted books on geology, history, a few romance novels, a collection of biographies of various celebrities and politicians and a few books of poetry.

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The conversation of the assembled Archons is interrupted as the door to the study hall opens and through steps an clearly humanolder woman. She is dressed in worn blue jeans, a white dress shirt and a burgundy cardigan. She is holding a tablet to her chest. As she enters the room, she adjusts her glasses. Smiling, she bows to everyone and says, Good evening, Lady and Sirs. My name is Kathleen and I am here to serve as an assistant to all of you during your time here. If you have any questions, I will do my best to answer them as best I can.

I trust you haven't been waiting too long, hmm? Now before we go any further, there are a few bits of information that I must dispense with. Just bear in mind please that I am simply relaying information and none of this comes from me in any way.


Looking down at her tablet, she begins to read from it.

First and foremost, once we leave this room and continue on there will absolutely no use of any of your "abilities". Any such use will be considered a contravention and will be dealt with, harshly. Secondly, please leave all weapons and technology in this room, they will be protected and untouched for the duration of your stay here. Lastly, expect that you will remain here for the next week or so. If you must make any arrangements, please do so now. If you have any particular feeding, Kathleen blanches a bit, or otherwise your assistant will see to them or facilitate them as best she can.

Taking a moment, Kathleen then says As mentioned, are there any needs that I can help with?
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Last edited by WitchKing; 02-22-2018 at 04:55 AM.
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Old 02-22-2018, 07:44 AM
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Cammellia is far from well pleased by these arrangements, and she steps away from the group, pulling out a phone - a few years old by its appearance. She turns it on, navigating it slowly but deliberately, working with precise concentration to call Aleshka.

"Дорогая кукла, я буду отсутствовать на несколько дней. Вы позвонили, чтобы обеспечить доставку продуктов, да? Я не хочу, чтобы ты покидал квартиру, пока я не вернусь.Darling doll, I will be absent for a few days. You called to ensure the groceries would be delivered, yes? I do not want you leaving the apartment until I return.*" Camellia spent several minutes on the phone, her voice quiet and reassuring as she spoke to Aleshka, talking the ghoul through her anxiety at the unexpected turn of events.

"I believe that the Camarilla policy is to quash the rumours of the existence of creatures that certain superstitious Cainites call Antediluvians." Camellia says when she finishes her phone call, turning the device off and dropping it on the table next to Ezekiel's. "The Methuselae are simple fact. Most of the Founders - those that still walk the earth - will be counted among their ranks in another century or two, as will Prince Villon. Maybe the Inner Council have not seen every night of a millennium, by I imagine they have picked up many of the habits."

As Camellia speaks, she takes off her suit jacket, revealing a brace of throwing knives strapped to each arm, which she unbuckles and folds onto the table next to the mobile telephone. She folds the jacket carefully over one arm, rubbing her gloved fingers carefully along the edge of the table. Under the restrictions given, she is most inclined simply not to feed until she can return to Aleshka - she fed well before leaving Paris, unwilling to trust to the quality of vessels in London without taking the time to consolidate, and she can easily wait out a week. But it would be very easy for the 'week or so' to become a fortnight or even a month - and if that happens, she will not risk leaving her sustenance to the vagaries of what a human thought suitable - from her obvious discomfort, she didn't even seem to be a ghoul... which begs the question of why she is enquiring about such topics - and how much she knows.

"Donor blood, sealed, from a hospital." She informs the librarian briskly. "I suffer from a genetic condition called Thalassemia, and require regular blood transfusions." Regardless of how much the librarian knows, Camellia will not breach the Masquerade by admitting to anything. The lie of 'Thalassemia' has served for three decades now - it explains both her requirement for hospital-vetted blood, and her pallor - and it will serve tonight, even if only as a polite fiction to maintain plausible deniability.
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