Time: The following night after "Tremere: The Magus". Concurrent with "Howling of Wolves: The Mortals")
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Nodding to Daedalus, Thorne Severan enters the prince's study. He first notes that the skittish Gangrel isn't present, off setting up for the night's gathering, probably. The Tremere approaches the Prince, bowing. "My lord..." He is alone tonight.
"Yes," he says, looking up from his papers. "Ah, Thorne, you're early." He extends his hand, smiling at the Tremere's formal manners,
Taking the Prince's hand in his, the Tremere primogen touches it to his forehead, and kisses his ring. "My prince," he murmurs, putting a bit of feeling into it. He still feels the relief from the night before, winning the Prince's acceptance, however conditional. "Thanks for seeing me ahead of time, my lord."
"I am actually glad you are here, Thorne," Julian says, pulling his hand back after the formal greeting. "These non-Kindred are a known entity to you and I value your insights into them." [I also just like the idea of you being here.] he catches himself thinking, deep in the back of his mind.
[Wish I could just call you Julian, get closer... ] "Thank you, my prince. I have two requests to make of you, if I may..." He looks into the Prince's eyes, hopeful.
"Thorne, please, most call me Julian ... when we're in private. Save the 'my prince' for show, in front of our guests."[This formality was starting to get to me.] "Now, what did you want to ask?"
Thorne smiles, relaxes. "Thank you, Julian. First of all, I sense an unusual... edginess to the Gangrel primogen in my presence. I would like, sometime, to speak to him about it, in your presence, if necessary, of course." Thorne fingers back a fall of hair. "I sense a deeper trauma there than even my Clan's reputation might warrant."
Julian laughs nervously. "Edginess is a bit euphemistic, Thorne. He doesn't like being around you," he puts it bluntly. Julian wants to explain his lover's unease, but is careful not to make the Gangrel seem weak.
"Cash was hunted by a renegade Tremere ... as a fledgling. Your arrival has triggered repressed memories. If you think speaking with him would help, then I would allow it." He pauses, cautioning with his a raised finger. "But I will not have you do anything that would put his life in danger. And don't think that you can use him to get to me." Julian's trust in the Tremere is increasing, but there is still that residual innate doubt about Thorne's sincerity.
The flush of a combination of shock and suppressed anger thrums through the Tremere and is gone so swiftly that nothing shows on his face. "Believe me," he says, his voice a bit tight, "I have utterly no designs on his life or yours, Julian. The trauma concerns me. And if you know who that 'renegade' was, I should like to know to be certain his punishment has been taken care of."
He glances away, controlling himself, then looks back at the Prince, calmer. He adds softly, "It is clear how much Cash means to you. I would not... use... that." [No, Julian Luna, I have loves of my own, you see...] He wants to be frank, but this is still too soon, unfortunately.
"I'm sure Cash would be happy to give you his name," Julian smiles. "Thorne, I did not mean to imply any subterfuge on your part, but I must be cautious, overly cautious even, when those I love are involved." He glances down, thinking to Sasha and her unwilling Embrace. "I have already lost one of my blood to those who thought to provoke a war. I will not lose another."
Thorne nods, relaxing. "I understand, Julian."
"Now, your second request?" He looks up, meeting Thorne's eyes.
The Tremere takes a deep breath. "My, l.... Julian, I have a grave concern for myself regarding Lacroix. He may think that he succeeded... in mastering me." This is hard for the magus to speak about, for his decision to give himself to Lacroix's twisted pleasure had come at a price.
"Given that, I need to be permitted to... defend myself," Thorne continues, "He may expect that he can still treat me... a certain way. I allowed it once. Never again." At this last, his voice hardens.
"Then do what you must," the prince says flatly. "We must protect the Masquerade and it would not do to have personal issues still unsettled." [Just *what* did you allow him to do, Thorne?] he muses, intrigued by the images he's conjuring.
Thorne lifts his violet eyes to his liege. "It may involve Ritual... as I said, it would be strictly in self-defense. Or defense of any Kindred. Only at need, only then." A pause. "I would never do this without your express permission beforehand," he adds hastily before the Prince can respond. [Oh, if he could only allow me to Ward, as well, but I dare not ask that,] Thorne thinks.
[Was I hasty in saying yes? No, it will be in defense of Kindred.] "Very well, if you feel you need to do this to protect us, then I will allow it."
Thorne nearly sags in relief. "Thank you, Julian. And I should be happy to provide you with whatever insights you require. Though I can best do that if you allow me to think them to you. Only that. I do NOT read minds uninvited." [I can help you protect the city from Lacroix and every black Brujah that crawls out of Cyrus's ass to threaten you,] Thorne thinks of adding, but reins in his own fervor for the Camarilla. [Not now...]
"I look forward to your insights," he says, rubbing his temple and remembering the mental link the Tremere forged with him the night before. "It's not that I mind having you in my head, Thorne, it's just not something I'm used to from those I've not bonded with. It was slightly unnerving, but not ... unpleasant. It is a much easier, and safer, means of communicating."
"Thank you, Julian." Thorne is almost weak from relief, and it relaxes him enough to speak his mind a bit more. "Really, Julian, there's nothing I'd like better than to have you in my head to make you more sure of me. I'm not saying you'd like everything you would find there, but you sure as hell would learn that I'm firmly on your side." He pauses and smiles with genuine warmth, though he wants to add, [and if you come into my bed, I would show you a few other things...]
"That's not totally out of the realm of discussion," the prince murmurs. [Boy, that was wishy-washy, Luna. A part of you would like to get into more than his head.] He grins like the cat that ate the canary. "I must admit I'm intrigued. [Lusting.]" He clears his throat, regaining control. "But we have more pressing matters to attend to today."
"Yes, we do." Thorne smiles. Within, he is already planning his defense against the vampire who took him so brutally. Lucien Lacroix.
There is a knock on the door to Julian's study. "My lord?" Cash's voice inquires from without.
"Yes, Cash?"
Opening the door, the Gangrel announces, "My Lord, the conclave room is prepared."
"Very well," the prince says, motioning toward the door. "After you, Thorne."
As the Tremere passes by him, Cash glares, the hair on his neck standing up. Thorne can almost hear a subvocal growl.
Thorne proceeds out of the room, nodding to the Gangrel, careful not to make any motion toward him with body, hands, or eyes, strictly neutral.
"Cash," Julian says, touching his lover's shoulder to ease him. "Have Michael escort our guests into the room after we're in place. I'd like a more formal show of power."
The magus continues on to the Conclave room, where he waits to the side until the Prince should indicate where he should stand or sit.
"Yes, my lord." Cash goes to the door of the study that leads to the hall and speaks to Michael very quietly, "Bring them in five minutes, Mike. Very formal."
The prince and wizard enter the conclave room. "Thorne, if you would take a place beside Daedalus," Julian says, taking his seat at the head of the table. "Yes, I think that would be best." [And it keeps you away from Cash.] he sighs
Cash returns and sits in his accustomed seat at the prince's left hand. Daedalus, who has followed him in, takes the seat normally used by the Ventrue primogen at the prince's right.
Thorne, after a pause, sits beside the Nosferatu, nodding to him with a smile as he takes his seat. He feels more comfortable beside this one, though he knows he will have to endure Gangrel daggers for a while.
Outside in the courtyard, Lucien Lacroix steps out of the limousine, nodding to his son and the others to do as well. He gives the mansion a cursory glance. It doesn't impress him much. Just a show of money.
"Nicholas, this is going to be... intriguing, don't you think?" Lacroix glances at his son as he steps out of the car.
Nicholas steps out, looking up. "Nice place. Intriguing? Yeah, that's a good word for it."
The ancient vampire chuckles, sweeping a mote of dust from Vachon's jacket. "My, you do clean up well, Javier." He nods to Miklos to join them when the car has been parked.
Vachon, fidgeting in the unaccustomed constraint of a suit, growls under his breath. "Still don't see why we have to do this."
"Oh, but it looks good, Javier," Lacroix comments, his fingertips on the Spaniard's cheek. "The Kindred love this sort of show. It suits me to play their games... for a while."
Nicholas smoothes out the front of his suit jacket. "I know, Vachon, I feel *too* dressed up."
Michael paces down the front stairs of the mansion. The limo parks to the right as the gate guard directed. "Welcome to Camera della Luna, gentlemen."
Lacroix pats his son's cheek. "Be good, children. Archon is an easy going man, but rather old fashioned." Nods to Michael. "Thank you."
The Ventrue continues, "Please follow me, the Prince awaits you." He gestures to the staircase.
Lacroix wonders as they walk up the steps behind Michael. [Camera della Luna? I thought... well...]
[Follow my lead, mon fils,] he cautions Nicholas, growing curious. Perhaps he should have waited to hear from Archon in a letter first...
[Yes, mon pere ... always.] Nicholas falls in behind Lacroix, alongside Vachon. He is visibly impressed, but not overly so, by the mansion.
Miklos stalks behind them bringing up the rear, silently observing as usual.
The door at the top of the stairs opens and the guests are ushered into the foyer by a tall blond Gangrel. After the door closes behind the visitors, Stone stands behind them in a conscious imitation of Cash's "parade rest" stance.
Michael gestures across the ornate marble floor to the door to the conclave room "This way, please."
Lacroix looks down at the Kindred at the door, and glances back and up at the larger one behind. Then he follows Michael to the room indicated, his entourage in tow.
Just as the vampires enter, Thorne bows his head, closing his eyes, mentally preparing himself.
Cash's eyes narrow. [if I didn't know better, I'd say the Tremere is afraid....]
Julian takes in a deep breath, silently. [Archon, I wish you had told me more of this man.]
Lacroix glances swiftly around the room... and does not see the Ventrue Prince, Archon. He does not know any of the others, though he might have seen the Nosferatu before. Then he sees... the magus who gave himself up stupidly to him... HE is here!
Feeling the vampire's eyes on him, Thorne does not react, still does not look up. There will be time for that. Prepare...
The ancient vampire narrows his eyes. If Severan is here, and Archon is not, then... [What *have* I done?]
Michael goes to Julian, who holds out his hand, Michael takes it gently, bowing to kiss it. "My lord, my prince, my brother." Straightening he announces, "My lord, Mr. Lacroix and his guests. Gentlemen, may I present the Prince of San Francisco, Julian Luna."
Lacroix's glance snaps over to Michael, his gaze quickly taking in... the Prince? He glances back at Severan, then returns to the short, swarthy man. He clenches his fist, for of course Severan knew Archon was not the Prince and did not tell him.
"Michael, thank you," the Prince nods, letting his sibling hand's kiss linger a moment before turning his attention to his guests. [Stay, please, as representative of our clan.]
Michael nods and goes to sit beside Cash.
Lacroix, still slightly frowning, nods to the Prince. "Good evening... sir."
Julian notes the tightened body language of the non-Kindred. "Lucien Lacroix, I presume?" he starts. "I take it you were expecting *something* else ... or perhaps, *someone* else." [You knew my sire ... you didn't know Archon wasn't prince.] He smiles slightly at the realization.
The old vampire feels the confusion in his son, an echo from the others. [Not now, Nicholas!] He just looks at the Prince a moment longer, then sweeps his gaze to the seated Tremere, infuriated at being duped. "You... kept this from me, wizard. Why?" Then his tone changes. "I will require... retribution for that omission... later."
For a moment the entire room seems to have frozen. Then a crash is heard as Thorne Severan kicks over his chair, ascending to his feet. His eyes glow a deep, dark silver, though to Lacroix alone the full venom is unleashed, the Tremere magicking called Gaze of the Master.
Julian sits back, watching the action unfold. He mentally reassures his companions. [Whatever happens, remain calm.]
"That will not happen," Thorne snaps back, his voice low and deadly, and chilling to all who hear it. "You are never to touch me again, Lacroix, and never to harm anyone in this room." The power visibly - to the vampire - swirls around him, picking up momentum.
As the Tremere jumps up, Cash pulls steel from behind his waist, intending to get between both parties and the prince, but at Julian's command he sits back, holding his weapon under the table.
Lacroix looks upon the magus with a mixture of disdain and surprise. "You did not show me strength like this, Tremere, when you came to me so willingly," he murmurs, feigning boredom, though the reaction shakes him. Naked power had burned in Severan's eyes of a sort he had rarely ever seen. This evening was not supposed to go like this. But then Archon was supposed to still be prince.
The magus, eyes still smoldering, retorts, his voice very controlled, "I had my reasons, Lacroix. My purpose... was served." [Yes, your blood is in my laboratory,] he thinks to himself, with dark satisfaction.
Lacroix snorts at the Tremere's impudence. "You have no power over me, magus."
Thorne's eyes blaze in anger at this, and he opens his mouth slightly. Immediately a pale yellow mist seems to leave his lips, spreading over the entire room in a couple seconds... then appears to be no more. The Whisper of Protection... is spoken. He smiles. "Try me."
The vampire glances toward the prince. This is not going well, and this face-off with Severan was not in the plan. Internally, he is shaken by the magus's show of force, but he cannot let that show to the others. "Perhaps... another time," Lacroix mutters.
"He may not have power over you, Lacroix, but I do," Julian standing and placing his hands on the table, staring directly at the vampire. "While you're in *my* city, you fall under *my* power ... under my laws. And you were obviously expecting something else this evening," he adds, lowering his voice to full princely authority. "For one, you were expecting Archon to be sitting in this chair. He is not. I am."
Lacroix sighs, glancing at his son. [Do you believe this, Nicholas?] To the prince, he replies, "Yes, I see there has been a change here indeed. And what *laws* would those be, may I ask?"
[It is interesting ... to say the least.] Nicholas tries to avoid fidgeting, having been shaken by the Tremere's show of power.
Thorne has lowered his gaze, and now stands silent and still, listening but no longer watching. [My prince,] Thorne addresses the prince privately, [I have cast a Ritual of protection about the room. Even this one, for all his insolence, cannot break it.]
The prince nods in Thorne's direction, acknowledging both the private communication and the ritual itself. Julian is not backing down, even in the face of insolence. This non-Kindred is less than caitiff.
"The change may not be to your liking, Lacroix," Julian begins in answer to the vampire. "What favor your felt you curried with Archon you do not have with me. I know you for what you are ... from Archon .. and you will find that your certain aspects of your lifestyle will not be tolerated."
The elder vampire stands taut, fists still clenched, enduring the speech.
"This city operates under the Masquerade, which was put into place to hide Kindred society from humans," Julian continues, feeling like he is lecturing a fledgling, which in reality is what Lacroix and his pack are to the Kindred. "First and foremost in Kindred law to protect that Masquerade is that we do not kill humans, we do not take others against their will. To break these laws is to break the Masquerade and risk your own destruction."
The Tremere glances up slightly and to the side, getting a look at Nicholas, the ancient's son, and the other two vampires. Nicholas... blond, very well favored... delicious... the other two, darker, both also handsome. The magus... catalogues.
"Now," Julian finishes, his eyes just short of flashing silver, "before you argue that you are not Kindred and bound by our laws, let me reassure you that if choose to stay in my city, you will subject yourself to Kindred law or face the consequences." Julian leans back, standing straight, having put forth his position in no uncertain terms to the vampires.
Lacroix smiles. "Ah. No killing, I see. Well, I can abide by that, and of course those with me shall abide as well, but we are not like you, Luna, we need blood. We must be allowed to procure our own blood sources. Is this going to be a problem?" He is not in the least intimidated by this "prince". But he knows well that the numbers are against him. And whatever the magus did, has him concerned. 'The blood does not need to be... fresh," he adds.
[Their bite does not heal, Julian,] Thorne informs the prince. [Usually they subsist on blood donations, if they do not take victims. Many bottle what they... procure.]
"No," Julian says flatly. "I cannot allow you to procure your own blood. It endangers the Masquerade." He thinks for a minute. [Daedalus, could the Nosferatu arrange for blood to feed these caitiff?]
Daedalus frowns. [If need be, my Prince]
The prince turns his attention back to Lacroix. "My people will procure what you need, under the direction of the Nosferatu primogen, Daedalus," he says, motioning toward the Nosferatu. "It will be controlled, of course, under my orders."
Lacroix frowns. "Blood centers reject donations frequently," he comments, glancing at the Nosferatu and then at the prince. "Barring that... we can arrange... shipments." [Damn it, Nicholas, perhaps this is too much of a bother...]
Thorne has settled back into his seat now, but his gaze is still downcast, his mind concentrating on maintaining the flux of power in the room. [He has only promised not to kill, Julian. Note that. He needs to be prodded into accepting compliance with the rest, my prince.]
[Perhaps not, father. If we don't have to spend time procuring blood, we could use the hours for more pleasurable pursuits.] Nicholas smiles at the thought directed toward Lacroix, resisting the urge to reach the inches that separate them and touch him.
[Indeed, mon coeur,] Lacroix replies dryly, finding the light mental touch with his son soothing against the tirades of this small prince.
"Gentlemen, I feel perhaps we have gotten off on the wrong foot here," Julian begins, cutting a small glare at Thorne, then turning his attention to the vampires at the other end of the room. "I don't believe we've all been properly introduced. I am Julian Luna, Archon Raine's son and prince of San Francisco for more than a decade. Archon met his final death just recently." He pauses for a moment.
"Four of the six Kindred clans that reside in my city are represented here tonight. Thorne Severan, primogen of the Tremere, is already known to you, I believe," he says with a small smirk. "He is the newest advisor in my conclave."
Lacroix narrows his eyes, not liking the "final death" reminder. His glance flicks over to Thorne Severan, but the wizard is not looking at anyone. [This is not over yet, Severan,] he thinks. "Advisor..." he comments to the prince, disdain just edging into his voice.
"Yes, advisor, like the other clans' leaders ... such as Daedalus, primogen of the Nosferatu," he says, motioning his hand toward his old friend, "who is one of my most trusted advisors." He starts to move around the table, stopping behind Cash's chair. "I also believe you've already met Cash, Gangrel primogen and head of my security team." [And most beloved.] He plays a hand on the back of the chair, letting his fingertips just rub against Cash's shoulder). "Michael, whom you've also met, is my brother and second to the Ventrue primogen, Sonny Touissant, one of my children."
He continues moving down the table until he is standing next to Lacroix, asserting himself and seeming a little larger than life. "Neither the Toreador nor the Brujah are represented here tonight, as this isn't a full conclave, but merely an informal gathering to receive you." He extends his hand, waiting to see how the vampire responds.
Lacroix gravely shakes the prince's hand in return, nodding to him. "Thank you, Luna." The ancient vampire pretends patience at the formalities, clenching a fist a couple times, getting himself back into control. He nods to the others: Daedalus, Cash, Michael. Then he smiles, laying a hand on Nicholas's shoulder. "And this is *my* son, Nicholas Knight," he explains, continuing to play along, play the game of the... as he sees them... "vampire wannabes".
Cash notes to his beloved, [That one is not as angry as his sire, Julian. He only smells of rage when the elder does. The others are both frightened and angry.]
Julian returns the handshake. Then he nods, acknowledging Nicholas as Cash's voice enters his head. [The son shows more control. Must be a "do as I say, not as I do" relationship.]
"DeBrabant? Interesting name. French?" Julian makes a moment of small talk with Lacroix's son, a smidge taken by the golden hair and wry smile. The corner of his eye catches the dark-haired delights off to the side.
"Not technically," Nicholas responds. "Where I was born is part of present-day Belgium." He shifts under Lacroix's hand, moving himself closer to the elder vampire. For security? He's not sure. "I just went back to using it." [When I decided to quit trying to be human] he adds to himself.
Seeing the interest in his son in the prince's eyes, Lacroix's smile fades into something less friendly. "And these are our... associates, Javier Vachon and Miklos." He puts the smile back on a bit, indicating the Spaniard and the Romanian, though his hand is still touching Nicholas.
[The man knows beauty when he sees it... my beautiful one,] Lacroix comments privately to his beloved.
Vachon bows, not quite the full courtly bow of the Spanish court of his mortal days, but deeper than modern manners. Miklos also nods, dropping his eyes before the prince.
Julian returns the bow, a tad bit less deep, impressed at the court manners. [Nice, isn't he, little one?] he shares with his Gangrel love. And nods at Miklos, noting the subservient gesture. "Well, we all know each other now. If you'd care to take seats, we can continue this discussion in a more civilized manner."
[Very nice, beloved. He cleans up well.] Cash sends a mental impression of Vachon in leathers astride the bike in the Harley dealership. He catches the Spaniard's eye and they exchange nods as well.
[Don't do that!] Julian mockingly chides, clamping down at the mental vision of the vampire in leathers. He walks back to his chair, giving Cash that "we'll *talk* later" look.
Cash smiles at his lover, winking the eye away from the visitors as the prince reseats himself.
Lacroix moves smoothly to the opposite end of the table, missing the exchange between Cash and Vachon. He indicates for Nicholas to sit at his right... away from Thorne.
"Now, Lacroix, do you have any questions so far?" Julian begins, "If not, there are other matters I am concerned about, in addition to the procurement of blood."
[Here it comes, Nicholas.] Lacroix steeples his fingers before him, regarding the prince at the other end of the table. "Please, proceed with your 'matters', by all means." A glance darts over to the Tremere, but that one is still... elsewhere.
[All business, this one.] He, too, glances at Thorne, noting how quiet the Tremere has become. [Where have you gone?] he wonders. He shakes off the thought and turns to Lacroix. "Play nice," Julian says flatly. "Don't prey on humans or Kindred. What you do amongst yourselves is your business, as long as it doesn't involve anyone outside the four of you." He stops. "I assume there are *just* four of you."
Lacroix shifts position minutely. There can be a wide interpretation of "prey on humans or Kindred." The vampire chooses to let this slide, reminds himself about discretion being the greater part of... He smoothly bites off a response to the last statement, "Well, there are four of us NOW. We make 'children' much as you do, I believe. I do not think you can expect to regulate that, surely?'
"Oh, yes, I can," Julian interjects. "No one, of any clan, sires another without my permission. It is explicitly against Kindred law to embrace a human against his or her will. That law extends to you, in that you will not hunt humans, seduce humans or 'make children' of them while you reside in my city."
Lacroix smiles, enjoying this game. "We are not Kindred, though, Luna. How can you claim to control another *species*? Or do you somehow have a handle on that same thing with *humans* as well? And why do you assume it would be nonconsensual?" He indicates his companions. "They were not forced."
Nicholas slides a quick glance at Lacroix, his mouth quirking in a brief smile, before he turns watchful eyes back on the Kindred at the table.
"My concern is not with humans. I control them where I need to," the prince smiles, maintaining control and not letting the egotistical creature at the other end of the table get to him. "I am concerned about what *you* do, and making sure that you don't jeopardize Kindred control of this city."
[Thorne, what *is* Lacroix's weakness? Archon told me some, but wasn't very specific.] Julian continues looking straight ahead, not wanting to give anything away.
The vampire snorts, but smiles as well. "I do not have any designs on your *control*, Luna. Save where they affect myself and my... family." He lowers his hands to the table, beginning a casual tapping of his finger, though he wants to rage at this little man for this "control" obsession he has.
[Julian,] Thorne immediately responds, though his eyes are still downcast, [I believe one of those weaknesses is sitting at this table. His son... is very special to him. I'm not certain how you can use that, however. Clearly these will have to be watched closely. Although I can tell you there will be... difficulties with that.]
[His kind,] Thorne adds quickly, [cannot go in the sunlight at all. Ever. They only feed on blood.]
Julian hastily replies to the magus, [Ah, thank you. You have proved valuable yet again. We will address the son later, but the other matters provide us leverage.] "And I can control you, Lacroix, whether you believe it or not," he says, smiling with a reserved smugness. "You see, you are the inferior species at this table, not us. You cannot blend with humans, walk by daylight among them, eat at their restaurants. So, by the laws of evolution, I would say I have the upper hand."
Lacroix's smile is tight, but still in place, carefully held there, though a rage the equal of Vesuvius wants to erupt from him. He nods, all politeness. "So you say. Evolution..." and now the irony drips sweetly from his voice, "does appear to be... in your favor." [But you cannot control ME, Luna,] Lacroix adds in his mind and his link with his son. [I will not be controlled!]
Nicholas takes a slow, deep breath, eyes widening slightly, the link to his maker on fire with his fury. This man is a fool. If this man truly wants peace between them, he is acting the fool.
Cash's nostrils flare as the scent of rage pours off the strangers. [Careful, beloved.] The hair on the back of his neck lifts.
Thorne shifts position suddenly... and for a few minutes his eyes will glaze over a bit. The energies pouring from the room... must control...
The calming sound of his lover's voice inside his head grounds Julian. [Yes. My temper is getting away with me.] "You understand that I must keep the lines hard, the laws harsh, where the Masquerade is concerned, but I believe there is room for negotiation on the matter of consensual Embrace ... if you feel the need to create children is so vital to your existence."
[Nicholas, not that I have anyone in mind, of course,] Lacroix thinks to his beloved, relaxing in this little victory. [But I will not have this little man tell me I cannot.] He nods to Julian. "Indeed, there is always... room."
Julian muses over his decision. [You have to pick your battles. And I don't need another Eddie Fiori on my hands, trying to backstab me at every turn.] "Then, if you come across a possible candidate, we can discuss the options."
"Perhaps," Lacroix replies, stiffening. [I do NOT think so.] "And as far as the Masquerade, be assured I do not want to be... discovered... either. Discretion is always a prerogative with us."
Beside him, Nicholas stirs a bit with his indignation. [What do they think of us? That we do not know how to live among mortals..? Or to be discrete..? This one hungers more for power than for blood, Lucien.]
[And knowing all your weaknesses is my prerogative.] Julian's attention turns to Nicholas, staring intently, a not-quite malevolent grin creeping over his lips. "We are agreed on that principle, at least."
Matching Julian's smile with a predatory one of his own. "It will be as Lacroix says. Of course."
[Easy, my love,] Lacroix cautions Nicholas, feeling the anger surge in their link. [Play the game.]
[Hmmm, he might be on a shorter leash than you are, Cash,] Julian notes to his lover.
"And I have already agreed to your 'no killing' decree, so...?" Lacroix smiles. "It appears the major issues are... settled."
[Perhaps, the younger one is still smelling angry,] the Gangrel responds to the prince.
Thorne comes back to himself with a sigh, glancing at Lacroix, then removing his focus again.
[Games...] Nicholas relaxes somewhat, his smile becoming more amused, glancing once more at the coolly smiling features of his beloved. [You and your... delightful games, Lucien.]
"I believe our business is concluded, then ... gentlemen," Julian says, standing. "Perhaps we can meet the next time in more pleasurable surroundings."
Lacroix rises as well. "Yes... perhaps. Thank you for your time... Mr. Luna." He nods toward the prince. Then his glance happens to slide over to the Tremere. As it does, the magus turns his head and returns the glance... his eyes blank, as if looking straight through him. Lacroix breaks the glance.
Nicholas remains seated until Lacroix rises, then stands precisely as he does, watching carefully the interchanges between his maker and the Kindred vampires.
"Come, children," Lacroix murmurs to the three other vampires, his hand on Nicholas's arm.
Julian directs his associates, "Cash, Michael, why don't you two see our guests safely to their car?"
Cash rises, the other's in the room catch a glint of steel as he slips a weapon back into his belt, having held it beneath the table this entire time.
As Michael goes to open the door, Cash gestures coolly [too bad, pretty Spaniard, it looks like our masters are determined to be enemies.....]
Waving Cash ahead of him, Lacroix and entourage depart the mansion, Michael bringing up the rear.
After seeing them out and the gates firmly shut behind them, Cash returns to the conclave room.
Thorne takes a deep breath and releases the Protection on the room. He closes his eyes and sags back in his chair, then forces himself to straighten. [Julian... sorry I wasn't more help.]
[And just where the fuck *were* you the whole time?] Julian looks straight at the Tremere, trying not to show more emotion than should be warranted for his newest advisor. "Thorne, are you all right?"
Cash sits back down at Julian's left hand. [Tremere, you look like I feel after a major ritual.]
[I was here, I advised you,] Thorne replies privately. [Please, my prince...] "I'm... I'll be all right." He looks at the prince finally, meeting his eyes.
[I know. I was worr ... just concerned about whether you were totally with us. I'm not used to having primogen "blank" out on me.] That concern is echoed in Julian's eyes.
Thorne straightens, leaning forward, his violet eyes sweeping toward the others before coming back to the Prince's. "There were... energies emanating from this room, gentlemen," he explains, weariness in his voice. "Energies I had to... contain." [You were concerned about me?] Thorne privately inquires, feeling a twinge.
Cash leans forward, eyes narrowing.
"Energies? What do you mean?" Julian asks, running his hand through his hair. [Yes, concerned. That was a bit unnerving.]
"Emotions... were high. In normal reality there were safely contained in this room, though likely anyone blood bonded to any of us might have been affected a little." He smiles wryly. "My own Order... well, not to worry about that. What concerns me is the energies as translated to the..." He fishes for words. "It could be called the 'spirit plane'."
"Spirit plane?" Julian questions, then follows under his breath, "Ellison and Sandburg again, I bet."
"Others... could be drawn to experiencing something of those emotions... on the spirit plane." Then he's caught Julian's murmur. "Who?'
"And any other marginally sensitive mortal or Kindred." Cash mutters under his breath.
"I can explain later," Julian says, putting Thorne's question off with a silent "sheesh" to himself. "Go ahead. You were explaining the energies."
Thorne nods, thoughtfully. "It wasn't a widespread emanation. I dissipated its effects fairly quickly. But I don't believe just anyone could have felt it." He glances at the Gangrel. "Of those who are sensitive, I mean."
Cash nods coolly to the Tremere primogen. "If we need to find out, I know who to ask."
The magus nods back, thinking that the Gangrel is probably quite sensitive himself. That would explain a few things. "Actually, my prince, I believe there might have been a more... specific... effect. Not intentional from this end, no."
[I asked you once about black jaguars,] Thorne thinks to himself. [We need to talk sometime about these matters,] he thinks to the Prince this time.
[Then let us talk. Tomorrow perhaps. Privately?] "Thorne, this has probably been an exhausting evening," Julian says, putting a hand on the Tremere's arm. "We can continue this discussion at a later date."
[Yes, I have more I need to tell you about... that.] Thorne replies.
"I would like to hear your assessment of Lacroix, though, before you leave us tonight," Julian begins. "Actually, I'd like to hear from everybody on the subject."
Cash murmurs, "Dangerous, angry, proud."
Nodding. "Yes. He is very angry, and proud. But he is also very old and that makes him a force to be reckoned with."
"Powerful," Thorne adds, agreeing with Daedalus. "And very used to being in charge. I think that was clear."
"Alpha wolf....." Cash mutters. "Too many in one room....."
Thorne thinks of the spirit vision... the howling wolves. [Way too many...]
"Well, he's not in charge here!" Julian says emphatically, slumping back into his chair and pressing against his temples. "I will not have that egotistical, bombastic *vampire* risking what we've worked so hard to maintain. Aw, gods, he gave me such a headache."
"Would you like me to try to find something for that, Julian?" Daedalus offers.
Cash stands and walks to behind the prince, placing his hands on the Ventrue's temples. Callused fingers rubbing gentle circles. The Gangrel nods to the Nosferatu, "Please," he mouths.
"But Lacroix," Thorne tries to explain, though he wonders how Julian's headache could be worse than his, "doesn't believe your laws should apply to him, not being Kindred. The fact that he is outnumbered isn't registering with him. An arrogance borne of extreme age. He must be watched. But that will be difficult."
"Thank you, Daedalus, I'd appreciate that," Julian smiles, relaxing into Cash's touch. "OK, Thorne, how best to do it?"
The Nosferatu bows slightly, leaves the room to find one of his special potions for Julian.
The Tremere rubs his temple absently, then replies, "I have...a sample of his blood. He broke our Ritual once when we tried to observe him. I can... construct another Ritual using the sample that will be more effective." He sat back, feeling his weariness more sharply. "I'm still analyzing it."
Daedalus enters the room again, a small vial in hand. Silently he hands it to Julian, nods and backs away, a slight smile on his face.
Julian turns the vial up and lets the liquid flow under his tongue and down his throat, then places the vial on the table. "Very well, Thorne, as soon as you can tell me something, advise me on the best route to follow. I want to keep a good handle on this Lacroix."
Thorne glances at the empty vial, thinking how his own pain will require something stronger than that. "Yes, my lord."
Within moments, the pain in Julian's head is gone. He sits up straight, shaking off Cash's ministrations. "I know that Lacroix did not leave here happy, my friends, and I'm not so foolish as to believe he is what he appears to be. I don't trust him," he explains. "I don't want us to be enemies, but I want to know how to take him down, should it come to that. So find me his weaknesses, all of them."
Thorne nods, thinking of Nicholas deBrabant.
A slight sly smile on his usually impassive face, Daedalus nods, too.
Cash comments, "My lord, the pretty Spaniard, I have run into him once by chance, next by design, I think."
"Be careful, little one," he says with a gentle smirk, gazing into Cash's deep hazel eyes. "Be careful that *you* do not get pulled into the Spaniard's web."
Rising from their seats, Thorne and Daedalus exchange a glance, amused at the repartee of the lovers.
THE END
