Link to Log.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1qFGQh-WFSelpm9oext1K33ijRS3Eml20zjgXM_N6KZc/edit?usp=sharing

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-22 20:48:05 | 11028

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

“Mastery of conflict.” I repeat. It makes sense. Conflict, not just war, but challenging yourself, your own beliefs and ideals, it forces you to grow and change. It’s the balance of that conflict and growth that’s important. Not all change is good. Not all growth is needed. Sometimes it’s cancerous.

“I haven’t been a teenager in…” Well… “A long time.” I say with a chuckle.

Speaking of The Ferryman… “I really should pay the toll, and see what he has to teach me” I say. “The Styx is a winding river with many secrets.” I add. Is it cryptic? Little, but Kharon the Ferryman is a cryptic Avatar.

“Good to know I’ll be able to cast wards again. I’ve some skill in all of those.” I have some skill in two thirds of the spheres, honestly. I lack only Life, Matter, and Prime.

“Yeah, I still tend to not tell people about my spirit Title. Necromancers get a bad wrap.” For good reason, honestly. As for Nephandi… “That sounds utterly terrifying.” Is all I really have to say about that… “But it’s good to know, regardless. The first rule of war, know thy enemy.” I say, not really knowing if that’s the first rule of war, but it sounds good to me. As for Gilgul…that… yeah… “Sometimes the kindest thing you can do, if put the wounded animal down.” I say. It’s… heavy ****…

“Never go wrong with having more people, even if the cabal would be temporary.” I say smiling. A mage is powerful, a cabal of mages? Power incarnate. Even I, new as I am to all this, understand that.

Then she begins her ritual, and I watch. I do as she instructs, holding the stones. They’re beautiful, and each has mystical significance. I don’t understand her words, it’s a language I have zero familiarity with, but…it’s intriguing… I will need to ask her about it after we finish this.

I think about the Trumpeter, the conversation we were having. He was a young black man, in clothes fitting of the 1920s. His trumpet was new looking, odd for items in the Shadowlands. We talk, and then he dies, a dagger bursts from his chest, silver, and glowing white. The wraith’s corpus cracks, and then fades as the dagger disappears…


----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-22 21:29:49 | 11032
aka "Faye"
aka Lucia Pallas, Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus

*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Charisma 1 | Spirit Magnet | Quint 4/4 | HL 7/7 | WP 7/7
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)


I smirk at the comment about him being a teenager. "It's vastly overrated. Hormones and stupid peers and bad music and worse fashion trends. Skibidi **** toilet, for the gods' sakes." I shake my head, but I'm actually chuckling now, my mood moved to something closer to 'mellow,' at least by my standards.

"Pay the toll. That's an interesting way to put it." I follow the metaphor, though, or at least I think I do. "Wards are a crucial thing. This place is warded against most kinds of spirits coming in without permission, because some spirits don't like being summoned and will sometimes come back for a visit if you're not careful."

One shoulder raises, and I note, "It will make people afraid of you. That's not a wholly bad thing. You can use that to your advantage if you need to, but most people aren't comfortable with being disliked." I, of course, am at ease with it, because it's just how things work with me as a rule.

"True on all parts. Knowledge of the enemy is crucial before you go to fight. Any detail could be the one that turns the battle. Any fact could be the one that makes you the victor." And I chuckle at the idea of a cabal. "I've never belonged to one permanently, myself."

And then I'm working... and I commit every detail to my memory, perfect as it is. This way I can replay it, analyze it.

*<<Bear with me, I'm going to make this memory stick permanently.>>*


((Assuming he doesn't panic, or try to stop her or kick her out...))

I weave the memory a bit more tightly, making sure its threads are perfect and secure within his mind. He will not forget a single detail now, and all of it will come to his thoughts whenever he chooses. Every tiny aspect of the scene can now be slowed, analyzed, and picked apart. I focus particularly on the dagger and what it looks like, how it's shaped, and so forth.

When I draw back, I note, "You can also do what I just did for yourself even with the first rank of *Ars Mentis*, Mind magic. You can improve your memory on specific items, and get perfect recall. See, the memory is there, imprinted. We just don't always draw it forth with perfect efficiency."

I then look at him and say, "I was tempted to try and force a Seeking on you, but ethically, that would be mind-****, and I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a rapist."

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-22 21:56:45 | 11034

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

The memories are burned into my mind, not literally, but you get it. I have a pretty good memory to begin with. I'm trained to notice things others simply wouldn't. I study things a lot of detectives wouldn't because you never know what might be useful. The trumpet, for instance. It looked new, odd for the Shadowlands. It also didn't fade with the trumpeter, but after him. Most people would over look that. It tells me it was important to him, and that it might still exist in the Skinlands...in the living world. It fettered him here. Not exactly useful, but it's something I recognize.

After she finishes and tells me I could have burned that memory in as well, I nod. "Simple mental magics are one of the things I am good at." I almost grin. "I'm a detective, and while I'm usually the smartest person in the room, sometimes I'm not. That's when they're the most useful."

"Well thank you for not mind-raping me." I say with a smile. "Though I should attempt a seeking soon. I've been at this a while, it's just... The Styx is deep, and dark, and the Ferryman's toll can be steep"

## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-20 16:48:14 | 10713

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Betty's Jazz House - Manhattan, NYC]

I raise a brow. I’m not going to stop her from taking charge. She’s basically on the same wavelength as I am about where we need to go and what we need to do. Mages are willful people. It makes sense they’d take charge. I do it too. “Always good to know where the pieces are.” It’s a chess reference.

She means the Chantry, and I get that right off the bat. I close the obolus in my hand and slide it back into my pocket. I didn’t really expect her to be able to see it, but it's a soul…I’m sure she sensed *something*. Souls tell tales, especially to those of us used to the world just beyond human sight.

“There are a lot of ghosts, yeah, but only because there’s a lot of time. Not everyone becomes a Wraith when they die, not even most people” I explain. “As far as I can tell, most people move on to whatever afterlife exists, or are eaten by a maelstrom the ghosts call Oblivion.” I don’t know much about said maelstrom, other than its existence, or I’d elaborate further.

During the car ride I make conversation. I’m new to the city, so when she points out places she’s been I ask the expected questions. The usual stuff someone new to the Big Apple would ask. I make the same jokes a New York newbie would make, and spout some of the same nonsense. You know…because I’m new to the city and even I have expectations about it that are probably dead wrong.

Finally, inside the Chantry, and a few moments later inside her Sanctum. I whistle that impressed whistle that’s so cliche. “This is a lot nicer than the Sanctum I’ve managed to put together in the last month or so.” I say, honestly impressed by both its utilitarian yet still opulent design. I recognize the seals on the floor. “I used to use a similar  set up for summoning when I was still practicing…” I think for a moment. “What would you call it..Ars Theurgia?” I ask, chuckling a bit. “I always preferred the term Hedge Magic myself.” I say smiling brightly.

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-20 17:19:00 | 10714
aka "Faye"
aka Lucia Pallas, Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus

*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Charisma 1 | Spirit Magnet | Quint 4/4 | HL 7/7 | WP 7/7
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

*Eaten by a maelstrom* doesn't sound like a happy fate to me. Not in the least. "I know there's at least one afterlife, because I speak to its denizens pretty regularly. Whether I'll end up there is anyone's guess. I'd say probably no, but hey, I'm not the guy making the decisions. I'll worry about it when it's imminent."

That he actually seems curious about the various places I point out kind of surprises me, but it shouldn't. Not everyone is bored and boring. The jokes get a lot of snickers of 'yeah, right' but I'm mellower than my usual mien, because hey, he's not pushing back at me, and is perfectly content to hear me out and understands that I actually might know my ****. It's my city, and it's a beautiful and hideous place, much like so many things in life are. Nothing is pure, really, in the mundane world. If you want purity, try the High Umbra.

"Oh, thanks. I mean... I keep getting reminded that I need to take on students at my rank, and someone hinted that they would try and take my Sanctum if I didn't. And I won't say who. But I pretty much reminded them that this little space of delight was willed to me by my Mom, and if they want to take it, they can meet me in the damn circle first." Yeah, I'm totally a Tytalan, even if I'm an unconventional one. I nod at his terminology, and then chuckle at the expression of preference. "I used it then, too. I've been summoning since I was like... eight? Always supervised at the start, of course, but Dad started me early on learning. I have to say, I find it comforting that you were practicing Theurgia before Awakening. I feel like I can actually have a conversation about the Ars with you."

Was that backhanded praise? Wow!

"Okay, here's my thought. I can take the vision of the place where the evidence is from your mind, and then reach through space to grab it and pull it in here. Then we can go through it, copy or scan anything we need, and put it back. Then we have all the data on hand, and you don't need to worry about accessing it and drawing attention. Then, we divide and conquer with it. That's at least the starting point; anything more will have to wait until we have more of the information on hand."


----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-20 17:24:19 | 10715

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

/roll 8d10 t8
Intelligence 4 + Esoterica 4
Does he know what she means by "The Circle"?<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">8d10 vs 8: 5, <b>10</b>, 4, 7, 6, <b>10</b>, <b>9</b>, <b>10</b> = **61** (<i>4 successes</i>)
</div>

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## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-20 17:48:39 | 10718

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

I don’t comment on her talk of her own future death. Honestly, I see enough dead people, and I’m enjoying her company, despite her reputation.

“That would be a sight" I say with a laugh. “I’ve never actually seen a Certamen duel, but I’ve read a great deal about them” I explain. “I learned a lot of my hedge magic from old hermetic books and manuscripts written mostly in Latin and Greek.” Because if you’re gonna learn hedge magic from a book, there’s a very high chance it was a Hermetic book… “Learning Latin and Greek was easy. Translating ancient Greek to modern Greek was more of a challenge.”

“I don’t know a lot about the Order, but a lot of my basic learning comes from your Tradition’s practices, combined with some of my own ideas I developed dealing with ghosts, death spirits, and other undead.” The work undead is almost spat out. I really hate vampires. I miss being able to set effective wards against them and their servants. Ghouls are the **** worst…

“I have copies of all the files. What we really need is the evidence.” I pull out my phone and scroll to an image. It’s an image of a ritual knife with a silver skull hilt and rubies inset in the skull's eyes, with a tear shaped ruby pommel. Very gaudy, very 1920s occultist chic. There was also some kind of amulet with the same skull and ruby design. “These are Necromancer’s tools. The kind of Necromancer who makes blood sacrifices, tries to raise the dead, and seeks immortality. The kind of necromancer who could easily turn Nephandic, if not dealt with.” Do I think Victor Grayson is a Nephandi? Not really, no, but…one can never really know…

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-22 17:22:49 | 11011
aka "Faye"
aka Lucia Pallas, Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus

*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Charisma 1 | Spirit Magnet | Quint 4/4 | HL 7/7 | WP 7/7
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

tell me about Nephandi.
/roll 8d10 v7

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## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-22 17:22:57 | 11012
aka "Faye"
aka Lucia Pallas, Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus

*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Charisma 1 | Spirit Magnet | Quint 4/4 | HL 7/7 | WP 7/7
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

/roll 8d10 v7<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">8d10 vs 7: 2, 5, 3, <b>9</b>, 5, 2, <b>10</b>, <b>9</b> = <b>45</b> (<i>3 successes</i>)
</div>

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-22 17:27:28 | 11013
aka "Faye"
aka Lucia Pallas, Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus

*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Charisma 1 | Spirit Magnet | Quint 4/4 | HL 7/7 | WP 7/7
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

I grin playfully with that. "We all die. Like the one-eyed dude said, *cattle die, kinsmen die, you yourself must also die.* But the one thing that lives on, he says, is your reputation."

I'm not morbid, exactly. I just have a very cynical view on things, because I was out in the Mi'as at an age where most Hermetics are still learning the basics of Latin and Enochian. "Certamen duels can be flashy and exciting, or they can be very painful, depending on who's fighting and whether or not the losing party will surrender. But mostly, the higher-ranking Hermetics keep them from getting deadly. I'm Tytalus, though -- we learn Certamen along with all of our other studies, early on." I listen and nod slowly at his statement. "It shows. You honestly should have been one of us, I think. I mean, that's not how it worked out, I guess, but you seem like you'd do well in the Order. I think you're way too nice for my House, but I think Bonisagus would love to have a deathspeaker with your abilities."

That's pretty high praise from me, honestly. "Undead. The entities that do not belong in this world. They speak of the *hubris* of mages, but think on the amount of hubris it takes to think that you can defy death itself? Sheer arrogance. And the Tremere," I say, almost spitting the word, "Gave up their Avatars and the glory of true magic for a weak substitute for  Theurgia. Fools and defilers, all."

That he has copied everything makes me nod, glad he's thinking ahead. "Okay. Then... hrm." I take the phone, studying the items, looking very displeased at the whole thing. "Ironically, ruby is supposed to stimulate the passions for life," I offer, looking disgusted, "And silver is the metal of the spirits and ghosts. And yeah, this looks like post-Victorian occultist flair."

I purse my lips, pondering the images, and then hand the phone back to him. "Not all Necromancers, even the dark and corrupt ones, are Nephandi, but it's a distinct possibility. One thing to note is that the Nephandi are even weaker to paradox than your average mage, when they're using their twisted versions of the Spheres. Their demonic investitures, however, do not garner paradox."

Another shake of my head follows. "Do you think this necromancer is still alive, or a ghost, or do we not know yet? Because I will admit, one thing I never pursued was prognostication, so my command of *Ars Temporis* is nonexistent. But someone with that capability would be a good choice to examine that weapon and get some data from it. How many of the Mages here are you friendly with? Because there is an option of going to that new pub place and looking for someone who can do that kind of magic readily. I... don't have a lot of friends here," I admit ruefully.

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-22 18:14:41 | 11016

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

Odin. He would say something like that… I liked Mythology as a kid, so I know a good deal about it, and have read both the poetic and prose eddas. Still, I just smile, but refrain from commenting.

I don't really know the names of the houses of Hermes. I’ve heard both the word Tytalan and Bonisagus, but never actually knew what they meant. “Are all Tytalans known for being…” I decide to choose a nicer word “...prickly?” It’s a small, but friendly jab. Her personality isn’t all that abrasive to me, but that might be because I’ve shown her what I consider basic respect, and she seems to have returned it in kind.

“I used to be able to set Wards against them and their disgusting little pets. The only drawback of Awakening is not being able to access that Static Magic anymore.” Yeah, it’s annoying, but it’s okay. Awakened magic has been way more useful. “That’s what I studied. Spells to summon, bind, and ward against the dead, undead, and their thralls.” Some other stuff too, but it’s not important.

“Spirits refer to me as Necromancer.” I tell her. “Not just the Death spirits I tend to work with, but every spirit I’ve ever encountered.” Which is more than one might expect… “I do work with the dead, and study death, so it’s a fitting name.”

“I don’t know much about the Nephandi, save that they’re absurdly dangerous enemies, and that they sell their souls to some outer world demons.” Which to be fair, is all I really need to know. They’re twisted people from everything I’ve been told. “If Victor is Nephandic…I doubt I’d be able to handle him myself.” Still being new to this and all…

“His name is Victor Grayson. I don’t know if he’s alive, but if he is, those tools will have a sympathetic connection to him, which means we might be able to find him. Hell, if he’s dead there’s still a connection and we’d be able to find what’s left of him, I’d imagine.” I have some skill in correspondence, but I’m not sure I have the raw power yet… As for the Time sphere? “I have some skill in *Ars Temporis*” I use her word, because it seems fitting to this conversation. “, but I lack the rawpower to utilize it in the manner required though.”

“The Anywhere Cafe?” Roll credits… “I’ve only been there once, but there are a lot of people from a lot of places. I’m sure there’s someone who could help, if it turns out we need it.” But…we came here for a reason. “I should warn you, when you enter my memories, you’ll see the world the way I do.” Just to prepare her. “And I don’t see it the same way others might. Ever since I died and was brought back I’ve been able to see into the Shadowlands. It’s constant, and almost drove me truly mad in the beginning.”

----

# The Case of Evelyn West (Week 2)(Scene 1)
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## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-15 23:41:39 | 8445

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[AC - At a table in the bar](/roomloc/5)

/roll 4d10 (Wits 2 + Awareness 2 + WP)

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-15 23:41:39 | 8446

<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">4d10: 1, 6, 4, 1 = <b>12</b></br> 
</div>

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-15 23:49:15 | 8447

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[AC - At a table in the bar](/roomloc/5)

/roll 1d10 t4 (Diff 3 + Highest Sphere 1 + Additional Sphere 1 - Quint 1 = 4 / WP for Auto)
Effect: Ghost Sight

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## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-15 23:49:15 | 8448

<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">1d10 vs 4: 2 = <b>2</b> (<i>0 successes</i>)</br> 
</div>

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## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-15 23:55:16 | 8451

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[AC - At a table in the bar](/roomloc/5)

Saturday evening, Betty’s Jazz House, Manhattan.

  I’ve been studying the police reports, and the lead investigator’s notes. I tried looking him up but he died years ago in Florida after he retired. I thought about going down and seeing if his ghost was still puttering about but thought better of it. Not everyone becomes one of the restless. In fact, most people don’t. So the chances of him being in the Shadowlands are small.

  So, I did the next best thing and went to Evelyn’s favorite jazz spot when she was alive. In her time it was a new place. In mine, it’s old enough to be considered a heritage site, but this is New York, a lot of things are old here. A lot of dead people too. A city as large as New York has millions of ghosts, from every possible time period. I saw a Lenape hunter stalking… something. It was dark, and I don’t like to think about those things… Lots of dead with unfinished business in a city this big and this dense.

So, Betty’s… It’s a lively place. The door man was a big fella dressed in a black suit. He let me in without much of a fuss, once I greased the proverbial wheel. The inside is classy. The decor is modern, but harkens back to the 1920s when it was built. It smells of smoke though. I can feel the itch, so I pop a piece of Nicorette to calm the urge to light up. I’m actually dressed pretty well and look like I belong. A suit that fits well. It’s a cheap suit, but I had it tailored to fit so it doesn’t *look* cheap to the untrained eye.

I go straight to the bar and order an old fashioned. Once I have it I sit on the stool and turn to face the club, specifically toward the stage. My eyes roll over the crowd looking for the tell tale signs of ghostly patrons, but…everyone looks very much alive to my eyes. It happens sometimes. The dead, to the eyes of someone like me, can and do appear as alive as anyone else. Luckily, I’m not your average joe. I reach into my pocket and pull out a coin. On one side is the image of the Ferryman, on the other, the face of Charon. I flip it a few times and close my eyes. THe magic pours from me, into the coin, and then back into me, opening my mind, and making ghosts more readily apparent to my eyes.

I sip my drink, and watch the crowd. There’s one ghost in here that I can see. He was a young man in life, maybe 19 at most. He’s standing next to the stage, an old trumpet in hand. He wants to play, but I can see in his eyes that he’s frustrated that no one can hear him. He might be of some help…

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-16 00:04:47 | 8454
aka "Faye"
*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus | Charisma 1 | Kind of a ****.
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

[[*cracks knuckles, gets to posting*]]



----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-16 00:24:43 | 8470
aka "Faye"
*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus | Charisma 1 | Kind of a ****.
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

You know, celestial beings *do* have senses of humor. Some of them, at least.

One of the lesser Cherubim that I deal with for information on the regular set an interesting price for the most recent tidbits I wanted: I had to go to an old-style jazz club or the closest thing I could find, and enjoy the music, taking in the experience for their delectation next time we met. I'd share the experience with Mind work, give them the experience of the club.

So I dressed appropriately, a vintage-looking frock in a pale blue to match my eyes, a pair of black pumps, and a warm, long coat over it all. It's just too **** cold this time of year to do otherwise. In my purse, I have my smokes, and judging from the scent in this place, I'm not alone. So I move to find a spot at the bar, and stick a cigarette in my red lipsticked mouth, expecting some gallant young **** to light it for me.

They always do, somehow.

Amusingly, it seems not to be the case tonight, because I guess guys have no **** manners any more. I look annoyedly at the bartender, who passes me a book of matches and takes my order for a martini, because what the **** *else* am I gonna drink at a place like this? You don't order a Slippery Nipple or whatever the current stupidity in drink names is, when you're at a classier place, which this is.

So I light my own cigarette. Pfft. It's gonna be one of those nights, I guess.

And the lovely lady in an evening gown on the stage is crooning out "Lover Man (Oh, Where Can You Be)," which seems a little too appropriate for my correct situation. This place is usually all jazz standards, all the time, so if that doesn't make you sit up and pay attention, maybe try another place.

I turn to give a long study to the crowd, and I notice a familiar face further down the bar. The Hollower, Seth. I don't groan, but part of me wants to. Still, I'm not exactly popular at the home front. Probably because I don't tend to waste time in chitchat and bullshit when I could be learning, practicing, advancing... you know, doing *Mage stuff*.

I could at least see what he's up to, maybe. I doubt it's for the same reason I'm here.

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-16 00:28:26 | 8473

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Betty's Jazz House - Manhattan, NYC]

/roll 4d10 t6
Wits 2 + Alertness 2

Does he even notice her?

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-16 00:28:26 | 8474

<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">4d10 vs 6: 4, 2, 1, <b>6</b> = <b>13</b> (<i>1 successes</i>)</br> 
</div>

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-16 00:37:57 | 8505

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Betty's Jazz House - Manhattan, NYC]

The young man with the trumpet moves away from the stage while the woman sings. It’s good, but I’m not actually here for the music. I like jazz, but I’m on a case. I down my old fashioned and push off the stool to walk over to him. My body moves out of people’s way as I go, whether they’re a ghost or a living person. It makes no difference. I’m sure it looks strange as I instinctively move out of the way of a rather large wraith to avoid walking through him. That always squicks me out. I also duck under…nothing…to normal eyes. I see the Shadowlands, and there’s a fallen wooden beam where I ducked.

I lean on the wall next to the ghost. “Been here a while?” I ask him with a smile. He looks at me with a strange expression. They’re never used to one of the Quick being able to interact with them. “Who are you?” He asks and I smile even brighter. “Seth Vaughn, private detective. I’m investigating the death of Evelyn West. Know her?” He looks like he might be old enough to remember her. His clothes are lower class but fitting of the era. The look he gives me at the question says it all. He knows her, but he’s not sure he wants to tell me anything…

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-16 00:42:50 | 8519

<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">6d10: 4, 5, 5, 2, 10, 1 = <b>27</b></br> 
</div>

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-16 00:44:10 | 8527

<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">6d10 vs 7: <b>7</b>, 3, 1, 3, 6, <b>7</b> = <b>27</b> (<i>2 successes</i>)</br> 
</div>

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-16 00:51:27 | 8535
aka "Faye"
*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus | Charisma 1 | Kind of a ****.
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

/roll 3d10 t7 (Dexterity + 0 Stealth, +1 diff)


----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-16 00:51:27 | 8536

<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">3d10 vs 7: <b>10</b>, <b>8</b>, 2 = <b>20</b> (<i>2 successes</i>)</br> 
</div>

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-16 00:54:22 | 8537
aka "Faye"
*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus | Charisma 1 | Kind of a ****.
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

So I was just about to get up and walk over, and then he *leaves*. What the ****, Chuck? I don't think he even saw me.

Oh, wait, right, private investigator. So he's maybe... investigating. I see him duck something that isn't there, and I ponder what it is. If it were me, I'd say it was something Penumbral, but given that he's known around Tammany Hall for being a Deathspeaker, it's probably something in the Shadowlands. I peer, and I don't see ****, but then I blink hard, take a swallow from my martini, and look again. Ahhh. A ghost of some sort. I don't really deal much with the Deadlands. That is to say, I don't do it at all. I already have my hands full with the High-Umbrood I tend to spend time with. The last thing I want is another realm of possibility to master.

At least, for right now.

So, I get up, and I do my level best to be circumspect about it while I approach, pretending I'm moving closer for the band, and then finding myself a nice little spot to eavesdrop. I will only really hear one side of the conversation, but that might be enough to get a clue of what's going on.

Amazingly, I dodge around taller people, and conceal myself behind them somehow. If worse comes to worst, I could turn the smoke into a screen from sight, but that's about as subtle as whipping out your **** at someone, so let's not.

Man, the **** I go through in order to get a little information.

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-16 01:05:43 | 8547

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Betty's Jazz House - Manhattan, NYC]

/roll 5d10 Perception 4 (Fine Detail) + Empath 1

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-16 01:05:43 | 8548

<div class="alert alert-success dieroll mt-1">5d10: 9, 9, 2, 6, 2 = <b>28</b></br> 
</div>

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-16 01:08:09 | 8549

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Betty's Jazz House - Manhattan, NYC]

A little information goes a long way. I don’t notice her. I’m too wrapped up in getting information from this Wraith. He plays absentmindedly with the valves on his trumpet. “Yeah, I know ‘er.” I says in an old New York accent with a slight Irish lilt. Nice. “Were you around when she was coming here?” It’s likely he was, but he could just know her as a wraith. She comes here occasionally, or at least she told me she did.

“Look, I don’t want Miss West getting into any trouble.” He says. “She’s not in any trouble. She hired me. I’m a PI. She wants to know why her boyfriend, a guy named Victor Grayson, carved her heart out of her chest.” I tell the ghost. He flinches at the imagery. “I saw the tools he did it with. He was a necromancer, the not nice kind.” It’s me, I’m the nice kind. “Whatever he needed her heart for, it ain’t good.”

The trumpeter looks down at his trumpet for a moment before looking up at me. “Look, Miss West is a nice lady. Treats everyone with respect. I wanna help you, but I don’t know nothin’ really.” He says, a hint of fear in his eyes. Something, or someone, is compelling him to keep quiet about something… I’m about to press him when he seems to gain a little confidence. “Vi…” A silver blade bursts through his chest, and tears his Corpus asunder… The look on my face as both he and the blade fade into the stuff of the Shadowlands speaks volumes…

----
## Phaedra Diamond / 2025-01-16 01:38:17 | 8588
aka "Faye"
*Gabriel before me
Raphael behind me
Michael to my right
Uriel on my left side
In the circle of fire*

Adept Major, Order of Hermes *bani* Tytalus | Charisma 1 | Kind of a ****.
[Tammany Hall Chantry](/roomloc/14)

So he got hired... by a dead woman.

*Fascinating.*

He speaks as if there's a *nice* kind of Necromancer... well, sure, kiddies, all the deathmages hand out cotton candy and lollipops after the zombie summonings, really. And then it goes on, and I'm left with a 'huh' on my lips, smoking thoughtfully as I listen. This might be interesting enough to offer help, but I can't do squat with dead people, so I'll have to see what I *can* do. Not that I'd admit to having a weak spot...

And now Seth looks like he's about to puke his guts up. Oh boy. Something happened that I didn't see... right, time to learn *Ars Fatuus*.

Godsdamnit.

I approach, and manage an expression of concern as I ask, "What was that all about?"

----
## Seth Vaughn / 2025-01-16 01:59:20 | 8600

Charos

*"The boundaries which divide Life from Death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where the one ends,
and where the other begins?"*
-Edger Allen Poe

[*Approved*]
Hollowed One | NYC | Private Detective
Speaker with the Dead | Potent Blood
[Betty's Jazz House - Manhattan, NYC]

I pick up the ghost’s trumpet. It’s what’s left of him. I hadn’t expected that to happen. If I’d know… Would I have been able to stop it? Would I have stopped my investigation? I don’t know. I was hired to find Evelyn’s killer and discover what happened to her heart. I just don’t know…

Then I hear a voice. Once I only vaguely recognize. I look up to see Faye. She’s a chantry-mate. Higher up on the totem pole, but not as much as she probably wishes. I’ve heard stories about her. Right now, her expression and tone, I wonder if the stories are true. People say she’s…difficult…in the best of times.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” I ask as I stand up. The trumpet begins to fade in my hands, not that she’d be able to see it. “I just watched one get discorporated via some kind of silver knife.” A spell effect, of course, but not one I’m capable of… “Sometimes I miss simpler times.” I say, kind of muttery. Back when I was a static magic user things were simpler, and I felt more capable… If I was still capable of those magics, I may have been able to stop what happened.

I stand up, resolve on my face. “Probably by a man named Victor Grayson, or something he left behind.” I say, righteous fury in my eyes, behind me otherwise calm expression.


----

----
## Anastasia Anderson / 2025-02-10 19:41:04 | 12426

Stacy

*Young hearts, out our minds
Runnin' 'til we outta time
Wild childs, lookin' good
Livin' hard just like we should*
-Kesha

[*Approved*]
Malkavian | Oracular Ability
Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers) Hallucinations
BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6

I almost leap for joy. There's four of us now. Four is a good number. I mean...not to the Chinese, but like...we're not Chinese? Anyway. Once Serge agrees to give it a shot sparkles explode from her, red, yellow, and orange. Fire, passion! He hides his emotions well, but I'm good at reading people...apparently?

Anyway, I follow our new Coterie member back into the main room. "So...I just thought of something..." I smile. "We should come up with a name for our Coterie. I think moving in together might be good too. I mean, I enjoy having my own Haven, but we're here to support and protect each other." This is not a demand, but a suggestion. "Somewhere secure, and as secret as we can make it." Because honestly? I don't want MK's or anyone else's sires to just show up again.... That could get dangerous. "Thoughts? Suggestions?" I add after a moment. I look at MK. "Serge is joining us." I tell her.

----
## M'Kayleigh Bancroft  / 2025-02-10 21:36:24 | 12431

"Don't talk like you don't want me,
Don't talk like I'm some zombie"

[Ventrue Neonate] [Fame:1] [Blush of Health]

"Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go.
I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go."

[App:4 Exotic] [Cha:3] [Presence:3]
[WP: 5/5 - H:6 - BP: 9/10]
Tampa, FL

M'Kayliegh waited as long as she could stand it, patience being a virtue she had in very short supply. She knew that Clara and Stacy called most of the shots, and she wasn't resentful. She was typically very accepting of the Toreador and Malkavian handling most of the night-to-night decision making, with the occasional input from herself... although now something gave her the feeling it was likely a conversation she should have been involved in. She closes her eyes, focusing her attention on her hearing. The low voices of Clara and Sergine can be heard as Stacy approaches. She could tell by the interaction, Clara was getting a little push-back from the Brujah.

She thought about joining the group when Stacy left the room, but now that she can hear her BFF giving the most to convince Sergine, and then Clara moves in with the hard-sell. She wasn't sure her Coterie would be able to get through to Serge, but with Clara's charm and Stacy's often surprisingly keen insight, there was a chance, at least.

MK jumps up from the couch as her Coterie returns, now four Kindred deep with Sergine agreeing to give it a shot. Her eyes light up when the Brujah enters with Stacy and Clara. She bounces up and down excitedly at the prospect of picking a name for the Coterie, and lets out a series of small claps before putting her hands over her mouth in mock disbelief. "OMG, thats cray cray, like total mind-blown emoji for me" she says with a grin. "Nah, that's cap. I was eavesdropping on the last part. I couldn't help it, I got mad excited" She lets her wide grin fade into a soft smile. She can feel her cheeks become warm, blushing as if embarrassed to use her "Vampire Superpowers" tp spy on her friends... she just felt only a *little* left out. Now though, she felt like they were building towards something bigger... and it made her hopeful.

"yeah... Clara got racks on racks of cash, plus with my financial portfolio, we could afford to build some bad-**** stronghold so legit, nobody would F with us" she almost cackles she laughs so hard.

----
## Clara Groves / 2025-02-10 21:42:09 | 12432

*I want to watch you bleed
You're the crime but I'm the scene*

Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice
[Tampa, FL](/roomloc/19)

Clara returns Sergine's nod. Anything more would be pushing her luck; she'd caught the reaction to Stacy's appearance, but didn't read too much into it. Malkavians creep a lot of people out, it seems. She's never seen any issue with hers though, never found her to be disturbing. Uncanny, at times, but aren't they all?

After the Brujah departs, Clara holds onto Stacy's arm to keep her there a moment longer and, once Serge is out of sight, she gives her fellow blonde a hug. The Toreador is not much of a hugger, typically. With her lips next to Stacy's ear, she whispers, "You did good. I like how this played out." And she lingers there, before releasing her, following her back into the suite.

"Do we really need a name? We ain't exactly the James-Younger Gang over here." She strolls toward the table, popping the cylinder out of her revolver to pack it away in the open case with her crossbow, unable to keep from smirking at MK's exuberance.

----
## Sergine "Serge" Carlock / 2025-02-11 00:08:32 | 12439


Come see this little war of mine.
[Approved]
Camarilla Brujah
Dexterity 4 : Lightning Reflexes | Strength 4 : Viscous | New Arrival | Rep
[Tampa, FL](/roomloc/19)

Serge took a seat, which is the first time that any of those present had seen the vampire do beyond sitting down in the bathroom to fall asleep. They'd get to watch as they slowly, methodically peeled themselves out of the ballistic vest they had put on the night before. With that done, they pulled at the tie that held their neck in a vice lock, and pulled it free, letting it hang around their neck before undoing the top button of their suit. It didn't entirely ruin the image of Serge the others likely had, but it was a distinct change.

"Names can be useful...depending on the purpose and situation. If anyone has one, go ahead." The Brujah wasn't saying no to the idea, but it seemed like they weren't about to go gung ho on the idea either. Slowly his eyes tracked over to Anastasia, more appraising now, perhaps a little wary as she nodded.

"If we wish to build something than pooling resources and locations would be valuable." They reached into their pocket and pulled out a cellphone, it wasn't fancy, and it wasn't new, it looked more like something someone used a few times before tossing it in the trash. After a few strokes of their thumb on the screen they shook their head.

"In this I won't be of help, Les Feuilles Noires, had no resources in this city. I can tell you a safe place from a coffin you don't get out of again."

----
## Anastasia Anderson / 2025-02-11 15:39:14 | 12447

Stacy

*Young hearts, out our minds
Runnin' 'til we outta time
Wild childs, lookin' good
Livin' hard just like we should*
-Kesha

[*Approved*]
Malkavian | Oracular Ability
Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers) Hallucinations
BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6

I smirk at MK. "Hey, I'm not exactly poor either." My parents did run one of the most powerful law firms in Tampa before they died... I'm easily a millionaire... maybe not a multimillionaire like they are but still! Anyway, I laugh it off. I didn't really say anything when Clara pulled me aside, but she knows me well enough to know I appreciate her, I hope. These **** are my besties, and I'd do anything for them. That now includes Serge.

"Of course we need a name. We might not be the...whoever you said gang, yet, but one day we'll be running this ****." I say, motioning to the city at large. Yeah, of course I have big plans. I'm as much Kindred as anyone else here. Power is what we need to really build anything of lasting value, and now that Serge is with us, we need to do just that. I also believe we, between the four of us, have the ability to do it, even if it takes 100 years.

I'm excited and I'm making it everyone's problem! "We should try to get Ybor City from Pembrook. That's where the Ivory Rose is." There's no strategic value to Ybor really. I know there's a few Nosferatu living in the old sewer system, but otherwise it's mostly empty hunting ground. People come from all over the country for Guavaween though, which is useful.

----
## M'Kayleigh Bancroft  / 2025-02-12 22:59:44 | 12454

"Don't talk like you don't want me,
Don't talk like I'm some zombie"

[Ventrue Neonate] [Fame:1] [Blush of Health]

"Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go.
I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go."

[App:4 Exotic] [Cha:3] [Presence:3]
[WP: 5/5 - H:6 - BP: 9/10]
Tampa, FL

M'kayleigh tilted her head slightly when the Toreador pulled Stacy to the side and whispered to her. It wasn't *what* was said, as much as *how* it was said, that caught her attention. She smiles to herself, the unusually affectionate tone Clara took with the Malkavian was something she found encouraging, and a sure sign the Coterie was heading in the right direction. Trust, and genuine affection, were both things MK found to be lacking in her's, and what she assumed to be most Kindred's unlife. Stacy and MK were affectionate, to the point they literally lean on each other, and the Ventrue had found herself stroking Stacy's hair more than once. She was excited, even if it was something most other's would find trivial.

She chuckles a bit at Clara, but shares Stacy's confusion about the popular outlaw gang. "I low key don't know who TF the Younger James Gang is, but let's def come up with a better name, for real for real, capital F dot capital R dot" she grins at Clara, turning her attention back to Serge still grinning. "It's okay Serge. You're like, peak Vampire ****-em-up. I feel safer, I mean... like, now that you are gang gang with our Coterie. That's worth mad bucks, no cap" she says to the Brujah with a firm nod. "We take care of each other 'round these parts" She says the last part with a forced southern accent, which mixed with her American/Thai accent, is probably more confusing than hearing her talk to her Sire in proper sentences and eloquent vocabulary. She glances over to Clara with a smirk and makes direct eye contact when she does.

MK sometimes forgot that Stacy was basically rich, herself. She or Clara usually paid for stuff... Clara was quick to pull out a stack of cash, and MK was lightning with the banking apps on her phone, as finance was the only part of business, as a whole, that she had ever had much interest in. Board meetings, boring. Management, too much work. Corporate espionage, too complicated. Numbers, numbers she got. She could **** up a spreadsheet. She was fire with quick books. She low key killin at the stock market. Still, she didn't worry about money. She was born into generational wealth, it was always just kind of 'there' when she needed it, and she was taught by daddy how to get more. 'Oh snap. My B, Stacy. I would *never* call you poor. You already doing the most with your visions, so I just meant, like, we can bankroll everything. You just do what you do, bestie" she says. then turns to address the room.

"I have a plan, or... at least the beginning of a plan?" She looks down at the notes app on her phone as she stands. "I have an idea. It's fire AF. I mean, I believe it has merit" She says trying to concentrate on being serious, to be taken serious, like daddy taught her.

----

## Clara Groves / 2025-02-08 01:18:50 | 12353

*I want to watch you bleed
You're the crime but I'm the scene*

Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice
The Tampa Edition: Penthouse Suite

And Anastasia does choose. It takes Clara a beat to react to it, weapon remaining trained on Leopold like she's trying to decide if an apology would cover it if she had an 'accidental' discharge. But it seems like they have more to gain from playing along for now, especially with MK backing her here. Reluctantly, she takes her left hand off of the fore of the shotgun and plucks the picture carefully out of his hand, making no physical contact. As though he is a loathsome thing. She has preconceived notions. She had always intended to kill him eventually.

But she's immortal, and she can always do that later.

"Message received, oll korrect," she says, a bit deadpan. "You can git now." She tucks the photo into her pocket and takes up her gun in both hands. No longer pointing it at him but holding it ready. And with how fast she moves, she might as well still have it trained on center mass. Brighton might like to hear about this, but she's still weighing her options for now. It might be a fine card to keep up her sleeve. There's a reason Pembroke is having *them* do this for him, after all... "Sergine, please escort this fella to the perimeter and see that he vacates in due haste."

----
## Sergine "Serge" Carlock / 2025-02-08 01:29:17 | 12355


Come see this little war of mine.
[Approved]
Camarilla Brujah
Dexterity 4 : Lightning Reflexes | Strength 4 : Viscous | New Arrival | Rep

Poor MK, she wanted to move to her progenitor, but the grip of the Brujah was like being encircled by cold iron. There was no bending their grip, no weaseling their way out. He had been given an order and would carry it out until told otherwise. That said the mercenary wasn't without nuance, the tension drained away in its entirety, leaving time for talking. It wasn't what the Brujah had signed up for of course, her skills weren't in negotiation or at the very least they werent what they'd been hired for.

So, with a slow close of her eyes, almost like a breath being taken Serge flicks the safety upon the weapon, setting it to lock before slowly, almost painfully easing up. MK speaks her apologies, and that scarred visage turns to regard her with brows raised in question.

 "Nothing to apologize for." Curt, calm, unperturbed. Its in this moment that Clara issues new orders, and with a roll of their shoulders MK finally feels the iron relent, freed to do as she would as Serge moves to stand at a forty five degree position behind the ventrue whip.

"You'll be taking the elevator this time."

----
## Anastasia Anderson / 2025-02-08 01:40:50 | 12357

Stacy

*Young hearts, out our minds
Runnin' 'til we outta time
Wild childs, lookin' good
Livin' hard just like we should*
-Kesha

[*Approved*]
Malkavian | Oracular Ability
Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers) Hallucinations
BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6

Leopold's smile never leaves his face. "I will convey what happened here to Mr. Pembrook." He says, and moves to the elevator, avoiding  the fly paper and waving a hand, releasing the ghouls from their command to sleep. They begin to stir. Leopold simply enters the elevator, and leaves.

"Well...that was tense." I say with a smirk and look to each of the people left in the room. Alex yawns, then realizes what happened... He moves fast...celerity fast, and is at my feet. *"I'm sorry, ma'am."* He says with an apologetic tone. "It's okay, Alex. There's nothing you could have done." The ghoul was no match for the elder ventrue, after all. I pat his head. "Go find your brother. You can have the night." They'd been up for over twenty four hours and were still human. They needed to sleep.

Once Leopold is gone I look around again. "I love you ****. Thank you for putting up with my crazy ass." I say with a laugh. The sparkles dance around my Coterie, Serge included. The whispers tell me to follow Leopold out, stake him, and bury him next to Brodie, and I am tempted to do so... but MK is still attached. Her bond hasn't run it's course yet...

----
## M'Kayleigh Bancroft  / 2025-02-08 04:15:51 | 12367

"Don't talk like you don't want me,
Don't talk like I'm some zombie"

[Ventrue Neonate] [Fame:1] [Blush of Health]

"Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go.
I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go."

[App:4 Exotic] [Cha:3] [Presence:3]
[WP: 5/5 - H:6 - BP: 9/10]
Tampa, FL

M'Kayliegh waits until Leopold is gone, then lets out a deep sigh of relief. When Serge finally releases her, she mouths a quick 'thank you' to them. Although she didn't like being held against her will, Sergine had pulled her from the line of fire in what could have easily been a very messy situation, and so she was thankful. She looks at Stacy with big blue eyes as she runs over to her and throws her arms around her. "I love you too ****" She turns, looking at Clara with her jaw dropped dramatically. "O.. M.. G... I deadass thought you were gonna kill my Zaddy, like high key F.D. Final Death him." She was shook by the whole ordeal, and they could tell she hadn't been through very much Vampire melodrama before. She was a baby Vamp, barely out of her Fledge and only released on her own, with the help of her Coterie, to be considered a Neonate in her own right somewhat recently. She had a lot to learn, and was in many ways naïve.

She takes her place back on the couch, grabbing a pillow for comfort and pulling it to her chest as she speaks. "Stacy, you aren't cray cray, you just *touched* and that's why we love you. I should have went with my instincts, and just told Leo at the jump, but like.. they not my visions, Y'know?" She couldn't just go running back to her Sire every time Stacy had a vision, they would have to figure it out on their own together, like they had planned... it just almost backfired this time, but nobody could have guessed The Man was actually Leopold James. MK never would have come to that conclusion on her own. It was clear that there was a communication gap between Leopold and his Progeny.

"I'm super glad nobody got hurt, I hope the boys are good. Still low key don't know what TF to do about sneaking onto a boat? I'm not exactly the queen of blending in. Like, give ya **** a job she can *do*, Leo. I'm not a fvcking ninja, y'know?" She wasn't sure what he expected her to do, but in her mind, that was probably why he needed her *and* her Coterie. It was also possible Leopold was just the messenger, and he had less of a hand in the selection for the mission than others may have had. Regardless, it would be her main focus now. "I gotta legit figure out a way to use my Presence to our advantage, or I'm not going to be much help, no cap." She squeezes the throw pillow a little then looks away seemingly in deep thought.

----
## Clara Groves / 2025-02-08 05:06:46 | 12369

*I want to watch you bleed
You're the crime but I'm the scene*

Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice
[Tampa, FL](/roomloc/19)

She watches Leopold exit stage left along with her mercenary, wait until he's out of sight before popping the breach open and catching the twin shells that eject midair. She tosses the twenty thousand dollar hunting shotgun to Sebastian as he makes his appearance; no apologies, no groveling out of this one. He knows she's not going to kill him over this. They've worked together for a long time. "Putting up with-" The Degenerate turns to Stacy, with a tiny smile playing at her lips. She's 'normal' again, her accent shoved back down, no promise of death in her stormcloud eyes. "I don't know what I'd do **without** you."

MK gets a single nod. "I **was**," she confirms, no beating around the bush. "But maybe we can use this to our advantage. Better for the long term." They're both so young. She's not even especially old herself, by Cainite standards, but she's thinking years and decades ahead. Maybe if things go well enough she can start thinking in centuries. "You two pow-wow, I'm gonna go fetch our ringer." She turns away and draws her revolver, twirling it on her index finger idly as she heads off to catch up with Sergine, leaving the club kids alone to strategize. Probably not the best move, but she can't imagine either of them will be much help either if they don't come up with something to play to their own strengths.

If it's just her, it's just her. And maybe, if he wants to stick around, the scarfaced mercenary.

----
## Sergine "Serge" Carlock / 2025-02-08 13:06:53 | 12372


Come see this little war of mine.
[Approved]
Camarilla Brujah
Dexterity 4 : Lightning Reflexes | Strength 4 : Viscous | New Arrival | Rep

Serge follows the intruder a few paces behind, out of reach, and out of easy eye line, this was best practices that she had learned over the years, when dealing with anyone who likely had dominate or presence, you wanted to be in a good place to **** up their day long before they can get their hooks into you. The mercenary was being particularly careful of this particular individual as they had already shown some penchant for avoiding Serge's traps and precautionary measures.

She'd escort him to the elevator, and would wait, watching him carefully as he entered, and disappeared down into the lower levels of the building. They'd stand there, watching the numbers on the elevator recede to the ground level, and would wait, watchful and listening for any signs that the man might decide to change Sergine's night and come back. There was little hope of that, but sometimes the scarred individual was a bit optimistic despite themselves. After all if he returned, that would likely mean that Serge would get to kill him.

And wouldn't that have been a nice start to the night.

When the Brujah hears steps behind her, the creature in black is a blur, spinning in a blink of an eye as their chosen weapon was raised their face set and those grey eyes showing a hint of light and excitement. Sadly, it was not the target returning for some petty reason instead its the client. As quick as Sergine was, she is equally as fast as they drop the weapon into a resting position once more and tilted his head.

"The intruder has left the building." Is all that is offered, a considering look crossing the Brujah's face as they seemed to relax an iota, but remaining at attention before the client.

----
## Anastasia Anderson / 2025-02-08 17:32:21 | 12378

Stacy

*Young hearts, out our minds
Runnin' 'til we outta time
Wild childs, lookin' good
Livin' hard just like we should*
-Kesha

[*Approved*]
Malkavian | Oracular Ability
Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers) Hallucinations
BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6

I smile at my coterie. Their reassurance means a lot. Clara goes after Sergine. I sit on the couch next to MK. I yawn and stretch out. It's one of the habits I still have from when I was alive. "The bond to our sires is strong." I say to MK. "Given time, and distance, it will fade though." I reassure her. Then, my eyes shift to look at a wall. To me the sparkles dance and shift colors, playing a game of tag. The Whispers urge me to seek out Leopold and put him in the sand, to give Brodie company. I'm not entirely sure I could pull it off. He's much older than me, and knowledge about vampiric powers.

So...for now...I watch the sparkles, and lean on MK's shoulder, smiling, completely zoned out...

----
## M'Kayleigh Bancroft  / 2025-02-09 06:28:38 | 12395

"Don't talk like you don't want me,
Don't talk like I'm some zombie"

[Ventrue Neonate] [Fame:1] [Blush of Health]

"Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go.
I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go."

[App:4 Exotic] [Cha:3] [Presence:3]
[WP: 5/5 - H:6 - BP: 9/10]
Tampa, FL

M'Kayleigh winces at the thought of Clara killing her Sire, she didn't have much left in this world from her mortal life... an only child with dead parents. She was close with her Coterie, but she had only known them a matter of months. Leopold, a few decades. She had known Uncle Leo basically all of her life, as far back as she can remember. He had always been a close friend of the family, and after her parents plane crash, he saved her from an attempted suicide. She was appreciative of the restraint her much older adopted sister had shown in not blowing Leopold off the map, so to speak. "Preesh. You a real one for that, sis." MK was torn between her Sire, and her Coterie. She wanted to please them both, and right now that meant getting onto a boat and securing a box for the Ventrue Primogen.

MK turns to Stacy as she mentions her Sire, and takes a moment to consider the Malkavian's words. She wasn't sure the bond was something she wanted to break. "yeah... I guess" She says reluctantly.

She wasn't any type of tactician, but she was clever in her own ways, and she was already starting to formulate some semblance of her part in some bigger plan. She had always been able to gain access to the hottest clubs, and the most exclusive after-parties. Sometimes that took a bit of coordination, and something was brewing in that seemingly empty head of hers, perhaps a plan... maybe even a plan involving a *ruse*. She looked down at Stacy, and then to the wall the Malkavian was staring at. She knew the touch came and went. Sometimes Stacy was much more lucid than others... this was not one of those times. She begins to take a mental inventory of her personal strengths, hers, and those of her Coterie. She didn't have anything solid enough to present to Clara, but she definitely had *something* in the works, and even if it didn't end up being a good plan, at least she was actively interested in doing 'Vampire Stuff' for once.

----
## Clara Groves / 2025-02-09 07:29:51 | 12399

*I want to watch you bleed
You're the crime but I'm the scene*

Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice
[Tampa, FL](/roomloc/19)

When the barrel of Sergine's boxy submachinegun is raised up toward her, the Dragoon stops its whirring spin with the grip sat firmly in her palm, hammer thumbed back, though the muzzle is lifted skyward. Like that matters. She thumbs the hammer back into place with a click then gestures toward the elevator with the single action weapon. "That was keen work. Kept your cool." She keeps the big revolver in hand mostly because the Brujah does. It's a far less sophisticated weapon, but she's done more with less.

"Far's I'm aware, you arrived alone and you've got no posse. If you're gonna stay a while, you'd be welcome amongst mine." It's a softball. Her smile is pure congeniality but her eyes are shrewd. She's still a businesswoman, even if Sergine had her over a barrel previously. She glances over her shoulder, toward the open door, but never quite lets her erstwhile ally escape from the corner of her eye. Then her gaze falls completely upon Serge once more, lingering just a second on those scars. Undisturbed, quietly fascinated.

----

----
## Anastasia Anderson / 2025-02-06 18:48:49 | 12256

Stacy

*Young hearts, out our minds
Runnin' 'til we outta time
Wild childs, lookin' good
Livin' hard just like we should*
-Kesha

[*Approved*]
Malkavian | Oracular Ability
Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers) Hallucinations
BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6

The sun rises and the vampires sleep. Their bodies seeming to be nothing more than corpses should anyone find them. Housekeeping avoids the penthouse, as requested. The ghouls do their jobs and watch over their masters. The day goes by. A beautiful sunny winter day in Tampa Bay. Then...the sun begins to set, and our Coterie's eyes flutter open. MK hears it first, her Sire's voice... “M'Kayleigh Bancroft, attend me!” Leopold bellows from the center of the main room. How he got in? Leopold has access to powers one might not expect from one of his Clan. MK has seen it only once...the mist form of Protean. A classic cinematic vampiric ability uncommon among the Ventrue.

Then there's me... When I awaken I sit up... “Who the ****?!” I ask, startled. Someone's calling for MK. I don't recognize the voice. I check the gun Clara lent me. *Kill him! KILL HIM! BLOW HIS FACE OFF HEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA!!!!* The voices urge me. The sparkles hover around the door of the closet we're in. I push myself to my feet.

----
## M'Kayleigh Bancroft  / 2025-02-07 04:56:15 | 12283

"Don't talk like you don't want me,
Don't talk like I'm some zombie"

[Ventrue Neonate] [Fame:1] [Blush of Health]

"Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go.
I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go."

[App:4 Exotic] [Cha:3] [Presence:3]
[WP: 5/5 - H:6 - BP: 8/10]
Tampa, FL

M'Kayliegh had curled up with the other Kindred in the closet for the day, secure in the thought that they were safe. The security measures, bribes, ghouls, weaponry, and fvcking fly paper should have been enough for her to sleep through the day peacefully, and awaken without anything cray cray popping off. She was wrong. She was very wrong. Leopold was the last person she was expecting to be there, inside their hotel room. Her Sire was the last Vampire she *wanted* to see there, inside their hotel room, calling her name. He might have well use her middle name, like daddy did when he was alive. "oh ****, oh ****. oh fuuuuuuuck. No this not NOT happening" she says as she scrambles to grasp for the closet door.

Leopold wasn't a terribly old Vampire, in age or generation... he was, however... connected. He had only been an active Vampire for going on a century, but MK knew he was close to the Ventrue Primogen. He held some status or small amount of political power that MK didn't quite understand, yet. She was slowly, and somewhat reluctantly learning more about the political side of Kindred unlife. Still, he is her Sire and she is blood bound to him so her reaction to his voice is immediate. "It's my Sire, Leopold is HERE" she says as she flings the closet door open. She didn't have much time to warn them, or explain anything to her companions. She hoped they didn't unload an arsenal at the Vampire responsible for creating her. She didn't hate *her* Sire, she wanted his favor. She was trying to prove herself by handling the situation without asking for his help.

"Yes, my Sire. I am at your command" She rushes into the center of the room, standing before him in the pink and purple sparkled club clothes, and what would have passed for matching pink and purple sparkly makeup the night before, her hair disheveled and her bun slightly crooked. This wasn't her best moment. "I wasn't expecting you" She says simply, not wanting to provoke him any further than necessary. He would have just called her if this wasn't a big deal, he was here... so it was obvi a big deal. Her eyes dart around the room in search of her Coterie, Serge, and the Ghouls, trying to place where everyone is, in case some crazy Vampire stuff happens. She doesn't move from Leopold though. She stays exactly where she is standing directly in front of him in the middle of the main room.

----
## Clara Groves / 2025-02-07 05:10:44 | 12294

*I want to watch you bleed
You're the crime but I'm the scene*

Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice
The Tampa Edition: Penthouse Suite

Like dominos they come to, one by one. As much as the darkling sky it's Stacy extracting herself from Clara's arms that causes the Toreador to stir. A soft whimper escapes, as it usually does when she wakes up in a dark, unpleasant place like this. A little keepsake from her hundred year nightmare. But then, she's awake. And someone else is here... for *M'Kayleigh*? Not happening. Doesn't matter who.

She's up in a blur of supernatural speed, sweeping both her firearms up with her. Revolver goes into her waistband and she snaps the breach of her shotgun shut with an ominous clack. "Mount up," she almost growls, into the *en suite* bathroom, before stutter-stepping to the door that separates them from the rest of the penthouse apartment. A deep breath she doesn't need to take does little to steady her nerves. It does not make her look any less angry either.

"You're stompin' on my territory, you thin-blooded hustler!" she calls as she steps out. "An' I aim to reply to that insult with a **ferocious** violence."

----
## Sergine "Serge" Carlock / 2025-02-07 05:17:05 | 12297


Come see this little war of mine.
[Approved]
Camarilla Brujah
Dexterity 4 : Lightning Reflexes | Strength 4 : Viscous | New Arrival | Rep

Sergine had considered attempting to remain awake through the day, or at least attempting to remain awake for as long as was possible, they had done so in the past, and it would not have been unusual for him to do so inside the constraints of this contract. However Clara had not asked it to be done, and given the layout, the ghouls, and the deterrents that had been implemented Sergine choose sleep.

So it is with a start that the Brujah awakens, the P90 in their grasp rising briefly to sit snug in against their shoulder as they confirmed that all of her charges were still in this realm of existence. The voice however immediately sets off alarm bells. Whoever it was, they possessed the names of one their charges and before the mercenary can react the youngest of them is on their feet and wrenching open the door. This brought a growl from the Brujah...so much for all her planning.

Clara growl is unnecessary, Sergine is fast, faster than many and a work was breathed under his breath as he sped to the door, moving after the youngest among them. As he exits the door her eyes track the space, looking for the ghouls who had either allowed this man in, been killed, or perhaps been compromised. If this person was infact MK's sire then the ventrue might well have convinced the ghouls this was for the better.

The P90 is raised, held in against the their shoulder as they catch up to MK and their face is stoney, eyes locking onto anything or anyone that was not there the night before, the muzzle of their weapon not far behind.  Clara said all that was necessary, the second she gave the order, the room, and the owner of that voice would be hozzed in lead.


----
## Anastasia Anderson / 2025-02-07 14:52:20 | 12328

Stacy

*Young hearts, out our minds
Runnin' 'til we outta time
Wild childs, lookin' good
Livin' hard just like we should*
-Kesha

[*Approved*]
Malkavian | Oracular Ability
Visual (Colorful Sparkles) and Auditory (Whispers) Hallucinations
BP: 12/12, 1/turn | W: 4/4 | Humanity: 6

Leopold is wearing a black suit with a red tie. His features are handsome and classic. He's well dressed and doesn't seem at all worried about the weapons leveled at him. He smiles at MK and ignores Clara, Serge, and me. "I have a job for you, my Childe." He looks up at the coterie. "For you and your coterie." He says, his eyes moving to each in turn, but not trying to make eye contact. It's probably to reassure them that he's not here to force them... if I had to guess. The discipline of Dominate requires it, I'm told.

I watch him as he speaks. The sparkles flow around him. The whispers urge me to fire. "Shh." I shush them. Leopold ignores it. He knows I'm Malkavian, I'm sure. "We're busy." I continue telling the whispers. Then I look back at the intruder. "This is him, the man from my vision. I didn't know he was your sire, MK. Sorry." I say apologetically. I recognize his face though.

----
## M'Kayleigh Bancroft  / 2025-02-07 20:52:33 | 12329

"Don't talk like you don't want me,
Don't talk like I'm some zombie"

[Ventrue Neonate] [Fame:1] [Blush of Health]

"Cause I know you love this feeling - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go.
I know your body's screaming - Say you're ready to go, Say you're ready to go."

[App:4 Exotic] [Cha:3] [Presence:3]
[WP: 5/5 - H:6 - BP: 9/10]
Tampa, FL

M'Kayleigh didn't have a typical relationship with her Sire, but she didn't have an altogether *bad* one either. She just wasn't living up to his expectations, mostly because she wasn't the one Leopold had first planned to embrace. Daddy was supposed to be a Vampire, not her. She lost her mom and dad in a place crash shortly before her Sire was to embrace her father. He made a hasty decision, one that he had spent almost a century avoiding. A decision quite similar to the one his Sire made made when embracing him, and it was like history repeating itself. MK was trying her best not to disappoint him, but there were times she felt like an unwanted foster child. "Yes, my Sire. I cannot speak for the rest of my Coterie. However, I will fully accept the burden, be what it may" She raises her eyes to meet his, a nervous confidence building within her" I am M'Kayleigh Bancroft, Childe of Leopold James of Clan Ventrue. Name your task, my Sire, and trust it will be completed with expedience."

Wait... what did MK just say?

She tilts her head down some in submission, her eyes never leaving his. She could hear the rest of the group moving into position, the readying of weapons, and the shouts of her Coterie and their temporary companion. Clara called Leopold a thin blooded hustler, and it took everything she had not to fall out laughing, still... she doesn't move, she doesn't crack a smile or give any attention to the other three Vampires while her Sire has her attending him. She knew in the back of her mind that it was the blood bond, but it didn't matter to her. For better or worse, she was a Vampire because of Leo, and she would do anything she thought would gain his approval. Even if it meant spending the day locked down with a mercenary and her Coterie in a hotel closet, hiding instead of calling him for help. In hindsight, MK now realizes they could have avoided a lot of this drama if she would have just talked to Leopold about Stacy's vision, or maybe even introduced him to Stacy and Clara at *some* point in the last few months.

"My apologies Anastasia, it wasn't your fault. I should have made introductions much sooner. It was a lack of consideration on my part." She momentarily breaks her gaze with Leopold to briefly respond to Stacy. It was obvious by MK's sudden change in vocabulary that Leopold James held her to a much higher standard than she held herself.

----
## Clara Groves / 2025-02-07 21:14:08 | 12331

*I want to watch you bleed
You're the crime but I'm the scene*

Toreador | Auspex 2 | Enchanting Voice
The Tampa Edition: Penthouse Suite

[7d10 t4 ie10] Roll: [9, 8, 6, 5, 4, 4, 1] Result: 6 Reason: Charisma 4 (Forceful)+Expression 3, Enchanting Voice applies

With Sergine backing her aggression, it almost feels like overkill. Between the two of them they could probably take out a whole pack of shovelheads, let alone a single Ventrue whose Generation ain't worth a lick of spit. She is confident in her violence and spiteful at the sudden appearance, the casual violation of the sanctity and security they had built up here. And anyway, she is not favorably inclined toward MK's sire in a general sense. In fact, this meeting had been a long time coming.

The only thing that gives her pause is MK's own complete and total submission to the authority of Leopold. The way she speaks is perversely alien given how clearly enunciated it is. The shotgun wavers an inch or so. But then she's moving again, circling with the unnatural speed given to her by Celerity, keeping the bead on Leopold as she gets a line of fire on him that does not include MK.

Ultimately, Dragon's Breath is unpredictable though. It's a cloud of burning metal, not a tight grouping like buckshot. She's liable to set the room ablaze but that doesn't matter, the problem is that she's almost definitely going to hit MK no matter the angle. "This ain't between you an' him anymore, poppet," she says, her own voice gentle but firm. Velvet over iron. She had purposefully neglected one of her clan disciplines; she's got no Presence to speak of. Her little act of rebellion. But she's charismatic anyway, her beautiful voice a weapon anyway. "Stand down an' let me handle this."

She flicks her gaze toward Serge. "Get her away from him." Her finger tightens on the first trigger and her eyes turn **mean** as she addresses Leopold: "Yer in **my domain**, bluebelly. You address **me**. I will give you two doses of Hell if you disrespect me one more again." Her sneer suggests she might just do that anyway.