Character Sheet: Spiral Appearance Prelude Journal Entries:
Name: Spiral, aka Johnathon Steele Player: John Kenney Status: N.P.C. (Player Removed) Chronicle: Santa Cruz/Vampire Nature: Caregiver Demeanor: Confidant Clan: Ventrue (Blood Reqirement: Ovulating Women) Generation: VIIIth Haven: Apartment Concept: ATTRIBUTES: Physical: Strength-2, Dexterity-2, Stamina-2 Social: Charisma-2, Manipulation-3, Appearance-3 Mental: Perception-4, Intelligence-3, Wits-3 ABILITIES: Talents: Alertness-2, Athletics-1, Dodge-2 Skills: Etiquette-1, Firearms-1, Melee-4, Security-1, Stealth-1 Knowledge: Bureaucracy-2, Computer-2, Finance-3, Law-2, Occult-3, Politics-1 DISCIPLINES: Dominate-1, Fortitude-1, Presence-1 Backgrounds: Generation-5, Mentor-4, Resources-5 Merits & Flaws: VIRTUES: Conscience-2 Self-Control-3 Courage-2 Humanity-7 Willpower-5 Blood Pool-15 Appearance: As for his culture and age: Late 1600's, but has really matured with the Industrial Revolution. He has still managed to retain that mortal passion he felt for his lost love and this has helped him keep a connection with humanity. He dresses in the latest Armani business suits except when relaxing, where he dresses in a rather outdated smoking jacket. He often smokes a pipe, more out of habit and contemplation. After all, it serves no real purpose than as a prop to a vampire. He has raven-black hair with a hint of grey at each temple, pulled back to a pony tail in the back. He is tall, thin and muscular. More wirey than bulky and often uses a cane or umbrella as a walking stick. He often has his sword close at hand and will often wear a great coat with the sword concealed within its inner folds. Prelude: (to be added) Flashback: [ Monterry ] "Spiral, glad you could come," said Franklin Crown cooly. Spiral thought it odd that the Ventrue would order him to an audience like this. It had been several years since they'd last spoken. "I am hurt that you've been holding out on me, Spiral. I've been making some inquiries into your finances lately," Spiral raised an eyebrow, "Your resources are...extensive, to say the least." There was a definite chill to his voice. "Whatever do you mean?" said Spiral innocently. He knew immediately that sarcasm was the wrong tact to take. "Inquisition take you, Spiral!" he growled dangerously, "Who do you represent?" He stalked up to the surprised vampire, his eyes locked on Spiral's and his will pounding on the others defenses in an attempt to dominate. His blood pounding and strengthing him, he tore his gaze from Crown and pushed the other back a step. "Crown, I don't know who you've been drinking...Calm down, man. I work for no one!" Crown stalked to a window, staring out into the night sky. "Is it [Prince of San Francisco here]? You have interests there." Turning abruptly, "I could destroy you! Here and now...I have backing and none would mourn your loss. Tell - me - who - you - rep - pre - sent." "Crown, I do not represent anyone but who you see before you. I have concealed certain business resources at my disposal, it's true. I have done nothing to betray nor put you at disadvantage. But who among us has no secrets." Walking deliberately towards Spiral, Crown growled, "I do not believe you." Spiral could see that Crown was going to attack him, "Wait! I am telling you the truth. Is it so strange that there be one of us who isolates himself?" Baring fangs, Crown grabbed Spiral's shoulder and said, "YES!" "NO!" A voice called out from the shadows, the power and threat that underlied that single word froze both vampires. Stepping out from the enveloping dark came Jackson, the Prince of Monterrey, "Go no further, Crown. You have failed to bully him into telling you what you wish and there is not enough evidence to support your claim of traitor. What more, listen..." With a sweeping gesture from Jackson, a Nosferatu seemed to fade into existance as if from nothing. Unfamiliar to Spiral, the vampire was more hideously deformed than most of his already horribly disfigured clan. In a wispering rasp, "I seeeeee thingsssss. I knowsssss thingsssssss. Aboutsss you, Crown...aboutsssss all. I knowsssss of purssssssed lipsss golden," Crown blanched. "I knowssss of letters burning," now it was Spirals turn to gasp. "I knowsss of Princes fallingssss, heh..heh..heh," even Jackson was becoming uncomfortable. "Enough, goblin. Say your piece." said Jackson with growing impatience. "No treacheryssss borne of foolish heartssss. Likessss ostrich is Spiral. Soon headsssss to fall if remainingsssss buryeeeeeed, heh..heh..heh.. heh...heh....eh...eh..." His croaking laughter fading as did the garish vampire. "I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Crown is unavailable. Can I take a message?" The whiny voice of the secretary grated on Spiral's nerves, obviously the human was chosen for just that quality, "No...no message. Just tell him that Johnathon Steele called." He hung up with frustration, Crown would was not taking his calls. He'd hoped that their confrontation could be put behind them but Crown had taken it quite personally being made a fool of in front of the Prince. He also seemed to be embracing the charms of the childe Diane Forester. He`d have to see about that vampire. Spiral was not familiar with the woman. Setting the phone back on the cradle, Spiral began to ponder the changes his life (or rather unlife) was taking. "We'll see...we'll see. It certainly won't be boring, though," he smiled to himself wearily. Thursday, June 1st, 1995 9:59 p.m. Spiral watched the lights of the rides blur past him. The noise, the screaming, the smells all combined to engage his view, though the events he witnessed were decidedly alien to his senses. He'd been locked so long in a world of night's blackness, that the coloured electric reverie he saw around him made him feel disjointed and distanced even more from the world than he had before. Vestigial summer heat could still be felt in the air, but a breeze had picked up and the cool fog offshore had begun to move in. Scantily clad women from over the Hill danced around him, their bloods' courses sounding like drums in his ears. He could smell their lives around him, ripening like fruit. But there he was, starving in the midst of a feast that he dare not touch. The liquid lights and calliope sound of the carousel sounded as the rush of the roller coaster died away to the background noise, like the rush of the oncoming surf or the murmur of thousands of voices, all melted together to form an experience of summer. The dancing wooden horses whirled away, their painted bodies festive even at night, perhaps moreso at night, while distorted reflections from the mirrours around them cast their gaudy bodies into grotesque images that appeared only for a moment as a reflection, before disappearing to be replaced by another grotesque, different only in details and colour. The whirling image was maddening and Spiral saw why the Prince of Santa Cruz held court on this moving platform. The bell sounded and the children got off, only to be replaced by another rush of people. A large black man, obviously a vampire,. tapped Spiral on the shoulder, digging his fingers into Spiral's back until it hurt. Why he did this, Spiral couldn't figure except maybe that it was to intimidate the Ventrue supplicant. Brujah didn't like Ventrue much and the Brujah of Santa Cruz could hardly be happy that one had come to their Prince, asking permission to dwell here. With a mad prince, who could tell whether he would say yes or no. Thankfully, the Boardwalk was Elysium and the Brujah wouldn't do anything to Spiral while he was there. Spiral ignored the digging finger, and asked, as if he and the Brujah had been old friends, "So nice to see you tonight. So, where is the Prince?" The Brujah sneered, his face thrust into Spiral's face. Thick coal black lips peeled back to reveal enormous fangs, dripping wet with saliva. "The Prince," Spiral reminded the Brujah, affecting a tone of nonplussed arrogance. The Brujah, looking to see that he had not been witnessed by any kine, thrust his finger at the carousel. A white faced man with dark sad eyes sat on one of the fixed benches holding a cane with the head of a cat. His clothes looked like cheap costume attempts at the summer dress of 1910. His eyes looked forward as if staring through all of existence to something beyond. Spiral bought a ticket and at the next ring of the bell, boarded the slowing carousel, heading for the bench. As the platform turned, the Brujah's grinning ferocity was revealed to him once every cycle, as if the vampire were made of stone and sat there like a terrible decoration - for the benefit of Spiral's unease. No doubt, in these troubled times, the Brujah had in reality been left there to guard the Prince's person. Certainly, Spiral thought, the Prince didn't seem to be able to look out for himself. He hadn't even seen Spiral approach but sat on his bench, unmoving in both body and eyes. But still, he stared as if at something, though the changing whirling view could of only made that impossible. Spiral still couldn't help but to glance, if only for a moment, at the images that had captured the Malkavian's glance. "Here I sit, still as stone, and the world revolves around me," the Prince said aloud as Spiral approached. Spiral looked around, but except for kine children, they were alone on the carousel. "Greetings Prince Happy," Spiral remembered to use the proper greeting, instead of calling the Malkavian by his name, Henri Bouchard. "And greetings to you my dear dead sister," the Malkavian bowed his head slightly, still looking ahead. "My name is Spiral," he went on, trying to ignore the nonsense. Whatever happened, it was imperative that Spiral receive the permission to stay in Santa Cruz. Most of the kindred of Monterey, those who were left, would be fleeing to the north bay now that Jackson was dead and anarchy ruled the night time streets of his home. Most would be denied and hunted down by the Brujah, Purdy, and his ilk. Everything was against Spiral, but he had to succeed. "My Prince, I must ask you" "Purdy has said that there can be no more Ventrue in Santa Cruz. If more were allowed to come in, they would be a danger to ourselves. The one called Crown has already taken Diane Forester to his bosom. Now you wish to dwell here too, my sister. Should I just hand you the stake and get it over with?" Spiral was stunned and taken aback at the accusation. Also the news that Forester, his social rival back in Monterey, had already received the support of Crown was not good. Crown would probably not want to push things too far by securing a place for both Forrester and him. Spiral was on his own and now his clan had became a curse to him. Already he could see himself at the mercy of the Brujah, who waited for him when the ride was over. "My Prince," he tried to reassure the Malkavian, "I would never do anything to harm you. I will do my utmost to aid you, in fact, if you would only let me stay here. I have no reason to lie to you." "You have to lie to me," the Prince told him, "It is your nature. All the world is built on lies and you and yours are its builders. So much of the truth is stifled that it is called madness to even speak it. Why do you fear final death? Is it not a dance?" Spiral thought hard. How could one respond to this? It was useless to try and feign understanding of this lunatic. Jackson was right when she called Bouchard a clown to be tolerated for the sake of Malkavian support of the Camarilla. Spiral could only try. If he failed, there was always the support of Vannevar Thomas in San Francisco, but that was hardly certain. Even with a Ventrue Prince, Spiral might be denied entry to the City. He would have to bring something of value, some bit of rare information before he could throw himself before Thomas. For now, Spiral thought looking at Bouchard, it would have to be the courting of madness for the sake of survival. "What could I say to you Prince Happy? I am here, as a refugee from trouble. My crypts are no longer and I stand naked before you, only your kindness keeping me out of the Sun." "Would the Sun be kinder then the cares of the Brujah? In one there is revelation, in the other only summation. If there is only the fall, do you even care how to?" Spiral tried to follow the logic, but had to shrug it off as more drivel. He was glad that he was no Malkavian. Reaching inside his pocket, he withdrew a vial. It contained blood. Holding it aloft, he presented it to the Prince, his true hope to be allowed to stay riding on its contents. "My Prince," he showed the vial, "this crystal contains the blood of a troubled young man who plagued these parts some twenty-five years ago. He preyed on young college girls until his rage against his mother was finally revealed enough for him to kill her. You know the one I speak of?" The Prince looked over at the blood with sleepy sad eyes, but said nothing. "This blood was secreted out of San Quentin. It is a rare taste of a man's madness. I give it to you as a gift." Spiral placed the vial alongside the Prince. The Prince picked up the vial and shuddered when as he held it in his hand. "Beware of the Cainite who comes with gifts that know your soul," he said aloud, though still staring blankly ahead. "But to court madness bring's understanding. Is this a truth, oh man of Steel?" Spiral stopped in mid thought. Was this mad play of words coincidence, or did the Prince truly know his true name? "Will you grant me asylum?" Spiral asked, pressing the matter. All of his social skills seemed inadequate to this dance of meaning that he played with the Malkavian. It seemed better to know once and for all how he stood. "You hunger, my sister - come drink from darkness refound," the Prince offered his hand. Spiral would have refused, but the presence of the nearby Brujah and his own hunger tempted him into this suppliance. But he vowed that it would never be repeated. Bending down as if to kiss the Prince's hand, he instead bit the Malkavian's wrist and sucked the vitae from there. It was rich, but bitter and sweet in turns and as Spiral looked up, with horrour he saw that Prince Happy had uncapped the vial he had himself brought, and was drinking the contents. The madman's blood entering the Prince, found its way into Spiral also. There was a moment of shared consciousness as Spiral relived the life of a mortal killer, a murderer who felt pain and then nothing, and who was more monster then any Sabbat. Tearing his hand away from the Prince's arm, Spiral gagged and stumbled off of the slowing carousel like any tourist, sick from too much motion. The Brujah tough waited for him and picked him up roughly. "Congrats, you Ventrue piece of shit! The Prince grants you the right to stay on condition that you obey the following rules." The Brujah took Spiral aside and explained the rules. All the rules of the Tradition were to be obeyed on pain of final death. Also, with the influx of kindred into the city, there were to be no killings of the kine as to not put undue pressures on the reserves of blood which they all shared. This last would be in effect until either kine population rose enough to justify a return to the old days, or if kindred population should decline. Spiral, released from the Brujah's cares, stumbled off into the Beach Flats area, no longer hungry, but in sick agony from his meal. People passing him on the street ignored him, thinking him just another homeless derelict who wine, drugs or starvation had conquered. Thursday, June 1st, 1995 10:12 p.m. Spiral wiped the desparate look off his face as he sensed he was no longer followed by Brujah thugs. He smiled to himself as he altered his course to the parking lot. "That went better than I'd hoped," he thought to himself, "and worse." He thought again of the foul blood that he'd partaken and bitterly applauded the trick that the Prince had played. He moved toward the waiting limo at the parking lot and smiled, "Driver, I believe that I'll be able to make that appointment with the realtor afterall." He bagan changing into a suit more appropriate than the poor fare he'd worn for the prince's benefit. He thought back to the tense weeks that had brought him back into vampiric affairs. Monterey was gone...at least, all of it that concerned him. He'd never had any of his businesses there, after all, it had been his home...his and his loves. He'd not gotten out if not for the timely alarm of Troika. She had woken him to the angry orange of flames as his old home burned. No amount of electronic security would defeat this foe. He made his way through the old bootlegging tunnels to the coast and barely made to his private helicopter before daybreak. It'd taken most of the next evening to calm his business concerns and reassure certain parties that he still survived. Saturday, June 3rd, 1995 12:01 a.m. Spiral continued to argue with the Brujah, Tony Darc, ready to run should the biker show any signs of attacking him. "Who told you I was an Anarch assassin?" he pleaded "At least give me the chance to defend myself!" Darc reached for a knife at his belt. Spiral backed off and was about to run off when another of the Dead Devils walked up and whispered into Darc's ear. Spiral had no trouble recognizing Chewy, the vampire who had nearly torn his head off the night before. Offering nothing in the way of an apology, Darc walked back to his post near the carousel entrance while Chewy disappeared altogether into the mass of kine, who all seemed oblivious to what had happened around them. Regrettably Diane noted, Spiral seemed to had talked his way out of being pasted by the Brujah. He has the nastiest habit of surviving, Diane thought. She was about the initiate a conversation with Hammel when she was roughly tapped on the shoulder by the tall broad shouldered Brujah. "Happy wants to see you." He motioned with his thumb to indicate the carousel. He didn't seem happy about having been sent to chase Spiral. Diane smiled but all she got back was a toothsome snarl. Such lovely chaps, she thought. "Do a girl a favor and stand off a bit, won't you?" she waved her hand to dismiss the Brujah. "I can see you easily enough. I don't need to smell you as well." There were smirks and even a few chuckles from nearby vampires when she said this. The biker snarled, his teeth dripping wet. "You're either brave, or stupid," he spat. "If I were both, I might be a Brujah but I don't think I could ever work up quite the stench for it." Several undead eyes bugged out. Crown was nearby and Diane could see that he was visibly alarmed. The Brujah biker seemed taken aback. Assailed by mere words, he seemed unsure of what to do. He slipped his hand down to his belt, touching the handle of a knife that he was wearing in a scabbard. "Remember, love - Elysium?" she reminded him. His eyes glowing red with fury, the Brujah still managed to contain himself. Though he murdered her with his eyes, he did nothing else. Diane smiled and danced her way up to the carousel. Diane stepped off of the whirling carousel, her jump mis-timed so that she slipped upon landing. Spiral was there, ready to greet her with a mocking laugh as she fell. "Graceful as ever, darling," he noted. Seeing Franklin Crown walk up, Spiral bowed. "Greetings, sir," he nodded. Crown nodded in return but then turned back to Diane, ignoring Spiral. He had made his choice it seemed. "How did your interview go?" he asked, seeming a little annoyed with his new protegé. "Very confusing, but he seemed rather charming," Diane noted. "I'm glad you could find something likable in the wretch," Crown said, not bothering to lower his voice. Both Diane and Spiral winced and looked around, but no one seemed to pay any attention. Such blasphemy seemed to be tolerated, at least from Crown. "Anyway," Diane continued. "I'm being allowed to stay." "Not without cost though," Crown said, glaring at Spiral. "Your friend here seems to have beaten us to the punch, as it were. Having already allowed young Spiral here to stay, the Prince already communicated to me earlier that he felt hard pressed to allow another of our clan refuge." "Really?" Spiral seemed to perk. "Why did he then?" Crown glared at him. "Because I made a deal. Why else? I'm putting both of you childer on notice that you owe me, and you owe me big." "Excuse me," Spiral interjected. "I don't mean to be rude, but it seems I recall that I won permission to stay myself, and without any help from - you." Looking at Diane, he added, "Quite the contrary." Crown's countenance seemed to darken. "Listen here, Spiral. Getting permission from the Prince is one thing. Getting permission from me is another. I'm giving you the latter now. Don't make me regret my generosity." Spiral pulled back, his face loosing colour. Diane bowed her head, trying to at least appear as if she were hiding her smile. "Of course, sssiiir," Spiral stuttered. "I wasn't suggesting that I was ungrateful. Of course I am and as Primogen of this city, you can rest your assurances on my loyalty - always." "Thank you, Spiral. I always knew I had the measure of you." He nodded to both of them. "If you'll excuse me." "Spiral," Diane chimed musically, "I do believe you make a jellyfish seem almost human." Spiral ignored her, glaring at Crown's turned back. "If ever there was a need of a staking" "I'll tell him you said that," Diane warned. "Of course you will," Spiral told her. "Why do you think I said it in front of you." Turning toward her, he smiled. "And of course, it would be such an obviously stupid thing for me to tell you, of all persons, that he couldn't possibly believe it, coming so blatantly from your mouth." "You're as twisted as black oak," Diane hissed, "and as fetching." Spiral's smile stayed with him. "Coming from an expert like yourself, I believe you truly flatter me." Diane cocked an eye at him but said nothing. "Who's that there?" Spiral nodded at a young looking vampire now exiting the carousel. "He's not one of our chaps is he?" "That's a chylde of one of the Brujah," Diane told him. "He's so new I think his skin is still warm." "Madness!" Spiral shook his head. "To allow an embrace in times like this. Pure madness!" Diane shook her head. "Really darling, how much of a surprise can that be." The two Ventrue regarded Brandon as he walked off of the carousel. Though they had nothing against him, by the mark of their respected clans, there was already enmity between them. After all of the interviews had been concluded, Prince Happy called everyone back onto the carousel. "Mes Enfants," he began. "We are in dangerous times these nights and the darkness, it will suck us dry if we cry not in a voice, but in the hoarse cry of the mob." Miryam looking around noted once again the dizzying effects of the lights as the twirling carousel zipped past them until they began to blur into a wash of burning colour. The carousel was speeding up. "The path to Golconda, if you wish it, is found in such a cry. Listen to the gulls when you first awaken. Their savage selfishness is our own. If you run the beach, they scatter before you. Such is our own flight and the gulls of Monterey, once our sister, yes such have come to roost. We are all here together now. Look around you! Look!" Everyone did, but all they could see was the whirling flash of lights. blinding their undead eyes. As the carousel continued to speed, many of them felt the pull of centrifical force and had to grip tighter. Happy paused as if he had forgotten what he was going to say. Purdy was seen bending his mouth to the Prince's ear. Happy nodded and then continued. "There are so many mouths now. You must not feed but one night in three. You must not kill your food, but leave it for others to feed from as they need. The dancer is here, but who will play the music? We must all learn to dance. Do you HEAR ME! TO DANCE!" All the vampires looked towards one another, trying impossibly to glean as much meaning as they could out of the Prince's nonsense. His rambling seemed to more frighten the assembly than to comfort them. It was as if the vampires of Santa Cruz had conveniently forgotten how mad he truly was. "The Sabbat, their music is the harshest. And it is so hard to dance to," the Prince told them sadly. Even Crown took note at the mention of the dreaded Sabbat. "Their voices are here, mes enfants. They are in the wind and they whisper around your crypts. They are simple voices and the tales they have to tell all have the same ending. In your daytime dreams, you must think to yourselves what tale you wish to tell, and how you wish it told." The whirling of the carousel was so fast now, that many of the vampires feared that it would break apart. It had built at the turn of the century and as it creaked and groaned, they imagined it disintegrating and hurling them to oblivion. All eyes looked to Happy, unaffected and standing in the whirlwind like the Captain on a ship of fools. Miryam was the first to loose her grip. But before she could be hurled away, Happy himself reached out to snag her arm and pull in back inward. So great was the centrifical force, that it must have taken great strength to do so. "So you see, mes enfants, we must ride together so that all of us can finish. In all things, we must dance, we must sing, we must weave our tales, but always - together. It is that or the ride is forever over." The carousel slowed to a stop and dizzy vampires spilled off of it everywhere. Jonathan looked up and noted how the Prince seemed drained, as if the words he had spoken had sucked him dry. Tenderly, the Brujah Purdy brought him a glass of blood to drink. Blood from a punchbowl was passed around by some of the Prince's ghouls. Though no one wanted to drink it at first, they were reassured when the Tremere Hammel, gazing into it, nodded to show that it was untainted of bonding kindred vitae and therefore safe to drink. The vampires, more than a little dazed themselves, broke up into various social circles, trying to put the best face they could on the Prince's words. (Hello John, Interesting way to code your subject heading. Anyway, to get on to matters at hand, thank you for your feedback. I'm sorry that the treatment of Spiral wasn't to your satisfaction but given the limited amount of exchange between us, there was always the potential for misunderstanding. As for your direction on Spiral, frankly there wasn't much to go on. Based on your prelude, I could definitely see that Spiral was passionately dedicated to his sire, but any personality hints beyond that were missing. Also, you failed to send along a nature/demeanor with your character stats, which would have been the best short guide as to how your character thinks. Though you might have included these with your initial character proposal, you should know that I discarded all proposals for characters who were accepted for play, keeping only those for possible alternates. However, if memory serves me, you elected to not provide any with your proposal either. Also, your last move was very brief, consisting of only one paragraph and it certainly didn't hint at much beyond Spiral's complacency in his wealth. Of course - you do get to choose how Spiral should act and in situations like this, by all means, let me know how you think he should have acted, preferably using examples to show how you think the flow should have gone. In situations where I can and agree that a correction should occur, I will amend your move where I am able. Understand that after actions have occured, I will not always want to correct what HAS happened, but will keep your desires in mind when compiling future moves. As to how I place your character in the game world, well, much of that was based on how I perceived his personality at the time, and had I known your wishes, yes it would have been different. But regardless, the choice is still mine and now that things have progressed to this point, we both need to understand certain things about Spiral and I'll spell these out below so that you can take them into account. 1. Spiral is a Ventrue. Ventrue have a tendency toward political strife and maneuvering as much as Brujah do to physical combat and maneuvers in the streets. This does not say that every Ventrue is a scheming economical/political fiend, but it is a part of their world and even if your character doesn't want to become involved in such, other Ventrue will try to manipulate him, use him or discredit him for their own means. Such is the nature of the Jyhad. 2. Spiral was a political rival of Diane Forester in Monterey. This was introduced for no other reason than give players some dramatic tension (to make things interesting) and create a framework for interaction. As it stands, you are still rivals, probably more for status than anything else. The edge of being refugees, with probably only one of you being allowed to stay lent an air of urgency to your meeting with the Prince. However, now that you've both been accepted, it's up the two of you on how you both proceed from here. You can maintain your rivalry or try to patch things up. But - a word of warning - remember, in my world, ventrue as clan mates will generally try to stick together, but only where it doesn't conflict with their own self interest - and that is a given. 3. Though I asked for high gen characters, I understood the lure of playing a low gen and allowed you to keep Spiral's 8th gen. status. However, as perceived by much of the vampire world, Spiral is a high gen and most would be shocked to find out how old his sire was. This is somewhat of an advantage given Spiral's self avowed desire to keep out of things. Certainly he is neither courted nor conspired against as much as if his true age were truly known. 4. Even if his true gen were known, Spiral would still not automatically be accorded the respect that was once given his sire. Though he has been left enormous economic resources, that by itself does not engender power or position in the Camarilla but what would influence the latter is how Spiral chooses to use his resources (Those that he has access to in any case.) Spiral is still a "new" vampire, despite his lower gen and as such would still be considered a chylde until he shows himself otherwise. 5. Spiral's resources present a problem in that he is so wealthy that it wouldn't make much sense for him to be in Santa Cruz in the first place. Given the disaster in Monterey, someone of Spiral's wealth would have probably chosen to be flown to any one of a number of fortress crypt sites and not merely run down the road to Happy's mad Santa Cruz and beg to be allowed to stay. The amount of Spiral's wealth alone would make him a target or at least, he would certainly be pestered by sycophants and others wanting something from him. The way I see it, Spiral can either have full access or use for his wealth, which would put him in the thick of things, or for some reason he has limited or no access to his funds, which would make him more dependant on the favor of other kindred (like any other beginning vampire player) (Eg. He could be hiding out and doesn't want to make use of his resources since such uses would allow him to be traced to Santa Cruz. Maybe whoever did in Prince Sandra Jackson would like to snack on Spiral.) The problem I see here is that I think you want Spiral to enjoy the privileges of being lower gen and rich, without having to suffer the political and social ramifications of such. There are too many contradictions within the makeup of Spiral's character. He's a social recluse, but he's filthy rich and accorded respect on the account of his Sire's status. Sorry, but being rich and having such a prominent sire would make him sought out to be courted, used or destroyed and would put him in a much higher circle of intrigue than is appropriate in a backwater like Santa Cruz. He would not be allowed to exist in glorious isolation. Alright then, let's say that he's hiding out and came to Santa Cruz posing as the high gen everyone thinks he is. Well, powerful vampires and other beings would know that his sire was wealthy and would try to trace what happened to that wealth, trying to get control of it. How could Spiral impudently make use of it, with private helicopters and such so that he wouldn't be found out? And then we're back to the former scenario. So, really, if the situation is with Spiral hiding out is to remain plausible, then he must not make use of his resources. He has the knowledge that his vast economic power is always there for him to tap, but such use could carry enormous consequences and every use makes it a danger that he would be found out. Isolation is just that, isolation. If you received the unused Jonathan Loparlo move, you will see that the wealthy Nosferatu is definitely not being left alone and it is quite easy for those interested to track him down with his ostentatious lifestyle. Do not expect me to give you absolute reasons for why things are (eg. your rivalry with Diane). You've been given the situation. Knowing your own character, it's better for you to come up with reasons why your character would be in that situation than to rely totally on me. The structure of this e-mail game is not the same as in live play. However, if you wish or if you get stuck, I'll be glad to help. Also, I will come up with my own reasons for situations if players fail to take the initiative and help create their own dynamics. Of course, where that happens, then I am less flexible when it comes time to rework this because I've already been put in the position of having to make a decision and have made the choices I thought were best. I read from your mail to Jo (Diane) that you're unhappy with not having received your move yet. I thought I had mailed you about that already, but if I haven't, my apologies. Yours was a late addition and I felt that my primary duty was to players who had kept up with my deadlines and who were awaiting their moves. Your short reply would have put you in a position to receive a move before others, who hadn't even gotten theirs yet - so I deferred your move out of a sense of fairness until the time 02:15 (an arbitrary roll) of Saturday, which would give me a chance to finish with all other players. Looking back, this was overly long, but once I'd entered times into my timelog, I rarely looked at characters until their move is due. As it stands, Spiral is still 6th in line to receive his next proper move (not counting the meeting at the carousel), but given my short move format that I will be initiating, I don't see why he won't receive something to be mailed out either today or tomorrow. So, having much more to work on, I'll bid you adieu for now. I'm sure as time goes on that I'll have a better understanding of how you see Spiral and that things like this will become more rare. And of course, feedback is important so keep it coming when you have questions or comments. One last point though. Beginning your next move, I want you to 1. Provide me with a nature/demeanor 2. Give me a much much much more restrictive blood requirement for Spiral than you've given me. At lower gens, Ventrue blood requirements approach the absurd and just saying that Spiral only feeds from women will not suffice. Until then, John) Saturday, June 3rd, 1995 3:36 a.m. Spiral had returned to his room, warily after taking a very circuitous route to make sure that he hadn't been followed. Having had experienced the not so kind attentions of the Brujah, he had no wish to encounter them again away from Elysium. He didn't know what they would bear him any special animosity, but he was Ventrue and certainly Diane Forrester had done little to endear the Ventrue line to them. Once in his room, he took down a book and began to read. He had a few hours left before sunrise and he wanted to make the most of his night. Summer, though welcomed by the kine, was the winter of kindred, where nights were the shortest. As he turned the old leaves of his book, Spiral heard a sound outside, in the parking lot of his motel. Venturing toward the window, he witnessed a most interesting dialogue between two kine. "Bitch! I told you to bring me the money!" "I can't bring you what I don't have. Look, if you'll just give me some time, I know I can get it for you." "I don't have time, you stupid cow! You don't either!" "Please, you don't know what you're dealing with here!" the woman protested. She was dressed in black and it was hard to make her out. "I know what I have!" the young man protested. He seemed young, Spiral thought. "And if you want it! You'll have the money here tomorrow night! I've had other offers and I'm getting tired of waiting." "No wait," she pulled him back, "Maybe we can make some other arrangement." He yanked his arm free. "You're not my type," he growled. Saying this, the young man got into a beat up Nissan, the colour of grey primer and bare metal chassis. "Tomorrow or else!" he spat through his rolled down window before speeding off. Spiral watched the woman. She seemed to be crying but composed herself after only a few minutes. Lifting her arms to straighten her black beret, Spiral noted two things about her. She had very red wavy hair, a small bit of which spilled out from under her beret. And, her arms were covered in swirling blue tatoos, which contrasted sharply with the paleness of her arm. Holding her arms aloft to the halogen lit night sky, she made some gesture of suppliance and then, walked toward a room, which turned out to be on the floor underneath Spiral's. Spiral, having come out onto the walkway as she climbed the stairs, heard the click of her door as she closed it. Sat.,June 3rd, 1995 - 8:20 pm Spiral dipped his finger into the dying rays of the sun. He watched the smoke curling from the finger and felt the sensation of burning. He pulled his finger back and stared at it for a moment. He always found a spark of disbelief in his condition. The momentary sting reminding him of what he could not bear to look upon. A single tear of crimson crawled down his face. Shaking himself from his revery, he scolded himself, "There is much to do and the night is young." But the curl smoke fading from the ceiling reminded him of his fragil immortality and the humanity that still remained to him. "I must feed," he thought, "but my curiosity is roused by my neighbor below as well." Spiral dressed quickly and fashionably, in a manner suitable for a night out on the town [ADMIN:Think George Clooney style from ER]. His hand absently curled around the purring head of his sleepy cat while he perused the real estate documents that had been placed through the mail slot during the day. "Ah, my Troika, soon we will have room enough for us both to run freely in our homes again. Several of these have excellent possiblities." Poking a finger into a vein, the vampire let his potent vitae spill into a waiting bowl for the large cat with accustomed ease. [ADMIN: 2 blood pts] Taking up the cellular phone, he called the realtor and requested further information on some of the larger stone estates with considerable property. Also, he saw a victorian house that peaked his interest as well and requested more information on it as well. Looking down at his watch, he was surprised that an hour had already passed since he'd awaken, "Toika, ward my haven. I will return later." The cat seemed to rumble with understanding. He pocketed his keys as he locked the door behind him. Going downstairs, he paused at his neighbors door. Just after seeming to turn away, he turned back and knocked. Hearing no answer, he shrugged and turned away. 10:03pm> The chaotic spill of lights and the heavy weight of the throbbing music fit Spirals light mood as glided through the crowd. His eyes paused on several young, beautiful woman in the crowd, but they had not the quality that he sought. His hungry gaze, paused on a woman in her late-20's, her curled red locks falling across her shoulders as she swayed to the beat of the music alone at one of the tables. She gazed upon a group of other woman that had gotten up to dance. He walked over and took her hand. She seemed to start somewhat at Spiral's approach. "I could think of nothing more enticing at this moment than to dance with you." Sun., June 4th, 1995 - 2:17am> Spiral traced a line across her body lightly with a finger, she sighed deeply in her sleep. So deeply into passion had she been that Spiral doubted that she even felt the bite but only the pleasure it had brought. He recalled the smoke that had curled from that same finger the dusk before and smiled. She was exquisite. Her skin paled by moonlight and blood loss made her seem statuesque and unworldly. Spiral got up and dressed. He knew that she would feel uncommonly exhausted on the morrow but would credit it to their bout of lovemaking. Looking through her purse, he found her wallet and memorized her name and this address. He hoped that they could see each other again but smiled to himself that it was probably unlikely. Such is life. <3:04am> Spiral paused for a moment at his neighbors door but thought better of trying it again. He went upstairs and flopped into the oversized leather chair. It was a duplicate to a favorite he'd lost in Monterrey. The seat had not the creases and familiarity of his old one. The annoyance reminded him again of the inconvenience of this move. Sighing, he placed his laptop in front of him he began to sift through the business mail. <3:54am> Not bad...he thought to himself, there seemed to be very little that required his direct attention. He stood and stretched. He moved to the tinted glass doors that opened onto a small balcony. It was the reason that he'd agreed to take the place. Small and obscured from the street level, it nevertheless had a spectacular view of the area. Troika, sensing his restlessness, stretched and rubbed against his leg. Spiral sat in the wicker chair and stroked the great cat's fur. He stared up at the night sky. He breathed in to smell the breeze blowing off the ocean. He could feel a hint of the moist spray as an errant gust went by. A fluttering leaf, dead and brown, left over from the previous fall was caught, tumbling and drifting along with the gust. "I will not become so dead and lost as to be a caught like the leaf in the storm that sweeps us. But I shall need allies. Perhaps Diane, she did not seem as ill disposed to me as I had thought our relationship had become. Damn that bastard Crown, he probably set that up too." The light of pre-dawn haloed the horizon, Spiral sighed and moved inside to sleep away another day. He picked up the phone and left a message for Diane on her media companies message service. "Diane, Jonathon Steele here. I was wondering if you'd like to get together and discuss our...um, current situation. You can leave a message with my answering service at 1-800-427-4404. I am looking forward to hearing from you." Troika settled in front of the door. The bedroom, in contrast to the living room, had no windows. He barred the door and lay in silk covers. The linen was one of the few things he'd gotten away from the loss of his haven. As the sleep came upon, he almost smell the faint fragrance of Allison and dreamed that he could hear her distant heartbeat. Sunday June 4th, 1995 4:10 a.m. Spiral had just started to drift off when he heard a loud banging on the door to his apartment. Flicking on a the lamp beside his bed, he checked his watch to see the time. The knocking was insistent. Spiral opened his night table and took out a small gun, a stainless steel Walther ppk that he'd also managed to salvage. Though he didn't fancy himself the gun type, he knew how to use them if need be. And given the way things were going, he didn't put it past the Brujah to be trying a near dawn raid. But then, why would they knock? Spiral cautiously approached his outer door. Maybe "they'd" followed him from Monterey. Inwardly he cursed his arrogance. Why hadn't he fled to San Francisco. He decided he would have to make arrangements to call up Prince Vannevar Thomas' secretary and secure an audience. But then, maybe that was what "they" were waiting for, for Spiral to show up in San Francisco or Vancouver. The knocking increased. "Please," he heard a muffled voice say. "Please!" It sounded like a woman. "I'm coming," he said. Cautiously, he peered out the peephole in the doorway. It was a red-haired woman. He couldn't tell if it was the woman from the floor underneath his. She'd heard him and the knocking had stopped. Quickly donning a robe, Spiral opened the door, his gun held ready. "Hi. I'm sorry to bother you this late, but I'm in kind of a jamb and I thought you might be up since I saw your light on." Spiral was about to speak when the scent hit his nose. The woman was bleeding. "What happened?" She laughed, then caught herself, as if realizing how unsettled she seemed. "Uh, I was beat up." "Really, this is a matter for the police," Spiral told her. "Do you want me to call them for you?" "No, uh, I can't do that. Really, believe me. It would just be better." "Then I don't see" "I watch you," she told him. "Excuse me?" Her words were unsettling. Not the sort of thing a refugee vampire wants to hear just before settling in for the day. She went on to explain. "I watch you. I watch you come and go. I don't know why, but I always thought that you looked like a gentleman." "Thank you," Spiral said. Looking around, he decided this front door conversation had the potential of drawing more attention than he wanted, especially as the night was drawing to a close. "Would you like to come inside?" he asked, opening the door a little wider. He quickly peeked outside, trying to remain alert to any possible trap. "Thank you," she said, quickly coming inside. "Would you care for a drink," he offered. The woman nodded and Spiral poured her a bottle of thirty year old Scotch. It went down quickly, so he followed it with another. Looking her over, he could see that she'd taken a terrific beating, her face showing red welts that would darken and discolour very soon. Her nose was still bleeding as well. Whoever had done this to her couldn't be far off, he realized. "Thanks," she said, tipping up her glass in a half-toast. "This is really good." "It ought to be," Spiral thought. Actually, he was rather angry upon discovering that he'd carried the scotch with him from Monterey, thinking then of all the more valuable items he had left behind. But now he felt that he was glad to have it on hand. He motioned for the woman to sit down. He heard Troika move in the bedroom. The woman heard it also, looking fearfully in that direction. "My cat," he explained. The explanation seemed to calm her a bit. "I'm sorry I bothered you," she said again, and again she sought some more courage in her glass. Spiral poured her some more. "I just thought that you looked like a gentleman and I was getting rather desperate." "Are you sure the police wouldn't be better equipped to handle this?" Spiral asked, somehow hoping for a yes. She shook her head vehemently. "If they knew what I'd been up to, they'd bust me for sure and then I'd really be fixed. No, I, uh, I need" There was a flickering predatory glance that told Spiral she wanted something. "I'm in real bad trouble, Mister." "Stan," he said. "Call me Stan." He decided to make up a fictitious name on the spot. He had signed the register, S. Smith. Stan would do. "Siobhan," she said, smiling. Spiral considered that when if he'd been alive, he would have found this woman attractive. Now, that quality was a mere abstraction, though not without its charm. As if sensing his thoughts, Troika growled from the bedroom. "That's some cat," she said. "Anyway, I'm sort of tapped out. And, I don't know how to make you believe all this, but I'm in the middle of something important. I need to finish. I NEED, you see?" She opened her arms to emphasize this, unconsciously revealing her tattoos. Spiral had thought she was going to confide in him about how she'd come to have been beaten. Now the conversation was going off on a different track. Spiral wasn't sure that she wasn't slightly deranged. He glanced at his watch. He still had over an hour and a half before dawn, but he wanted to give himself some leeway, just in case. Suddenly, there was another series of knocks on the door. "SIOBHAN! COME OUT! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" someone screamed in a voice surely loud enough to draw the police. They would want to question him, he was sure. "Oh Shit!" Siobhan moaned "It's Denis! He followed me." Spiral flipped his cellular out, his hand poised to dial 911. Might as well get this over with, he thought. The sooner, the better. But then, he realized that he couldn't make any such call without being traced. And he couldn't appear in any police report either, let alone become involved in something that was going to be drawn out. "SIOBHAN! YOU BITCH! COME OUT OR I'LL KICK THIS FUCKING DOOR DOWN! YOU OWE ME, YOU CHEATING BITCH!!!" Spiral realized that he would have to do something, for his own sake. But what to do? Sunday June 4th, 1995 4:23 a.m. Spiral hesitated the merest instant, in that moment on the brink of involvement and disassociation...and then...He closed the phone and began to move with unexpected speed and efficiency [JK: +2 Dex from Blood Pool/Gen8]. His presence seemed to swell as he stood, "Siobhan, do not move from where you sit." With two quick strides he, cracked open the door to the bedroom and hissed, "Only on my word, Troika!" He thought of the clumsy weapon in his pocket and his equally clumsy facility with it. He took the katana from the wall placed it on the hall table within easy reach. He took out the small pistol and held it in his hand at his hip and opened the door with the other. Moving that hand to lean lightly against the table, he said, "May I help you? A sedative or a prozaic, perhaps." Sunday June 4th, 1995 4:25 a.m. Denis was a large man. In fact, large might not have been quite the appropriate adjective to describe the overstuffed muscular girth that competely blocked Spiral's doorway. Denis was dressed in beachcomber cutoffs that seemed stretched to the point of breaking given the massive thighs stuffed into them. Denis' skin was tan, his dark hair highlighted by blondish streaks, obvious marks of too much sun. The man had piercing eyes. Spiral guessed that they were hazel. Having only just cracked the door open, Spiral had the door pushed painfully out of his hand when one of Denis' large arms pushed on it. It slammed with convincing force against the wall. Denis walked into the door, his large body pushing Spiral backward. Giving Spiral a deriding once over, he commented to Siobhan, "So, this is the pasty face nothing you're fucking now?! Well, I don't care what you do now, bitch! You OWE me! And, this time, you'd better have payment!" Siobhan cried out, "Denis, NO! You can't take it! I need it! I'll pay you back, I swear!" Spiral was somewhat incensed at Denis words, but observing the gorilla as he addressed his "guest", Spiral realized, with his unworldly perception, that there was something very wrong about Denis' makeup. Spiral wasn't sure what it was, but he was sure that Denis was not human. Sunday June 4th, 1995 4:27 a.m. Gun forgotten, Spiral sprang back unsheathing the blade as he did so. His features blushed as if in anger, but it was the flush of blood he sent through his body to strengthen it (+2 Str/bloodpool). "It is time to be more hostpitable, Dennis," said Spiral dangerously, "If you wish your money, you'll calm down and be ready to recieve it." Sunday June 4th, 1995 4:28 a.m. Denis turned his angry from gaze from Siobhan and now fixed it squarely upon Spiral, as if seeing Spiral for the first time. Denis' eyes narrowed and his large hairy hands flexed, as if he wanted very badly to use them somehow. But the man checked his anger. Slowly, each word's pronunciation precise and sharp, Denis addressed Spiral. "Well, I wonder what Siobhan here would say if she knew what kind of `man' she's fallen in with," Denis chuckled. "Well, that's none of my concern now. Did you say you have some money?" Spiral nodded, but then added, "But that depends on how reasonable you're willing to be about it." "Hey! I'm very REASONABLE!!" Denis screamed, raising his fists in the air as if he were going to pound Spiral flat. Spiral retreated, rasing his sword, ready to defend himself. There was a wild bestial look in Denis' eyes. Spiral then realized what he was dealing with. Denis was a werewolf or other such beastman! Spiral and Siobhan were in great danger. At this proximity, a werewolf's natural combat skills could be quite lethal enough to tear him to shreds. He would definitely need Troika and praised Caine that she was standing ready to charge from the next room. But Denis pulled back, just on the edge of letting his own Beast come through. "O.K., pasty face. Bitch here owes me" he paused, "Twenty thousand. You can pay? Or do I start taking body parts as collateral?" "Hey!" Siobhan screetched back. "I only owe you ten-thousand!" she protested. Denis chuckled. "Interest, baby, interest. So, what about it pasty face? You gonna pay me?" Spiral thought about it. It was a paltry sum, really. A couple of weeks ago, he would have paid it without even thinking about it. But that was two weeks ago. Now, though the money could be gotten to, by leaving a call and letting Denis go to a bank for payment, such an action could possibly be traced, leaving Spiral open to the very pursuit he hoped to avoid. Looking at Denis, Spiral began to wonder what his options truly were. Would the seven thousand he had in his wallet be enough? And if so, what then would he live off of in the coming nights? Sunday June 4th, 1995 4:29 a.m. Spiral kept his face neutral but his mind raced. He inwardly cursed at this werewolf in his hallway and Siobhan, he'd come to find this small abode acceptable. Now it too would have to be abandoned. "Control yourself, wolf. You are a but a guest here, as is Siobhan." He cocked an inquisitive eyebrow back at Siobhan and continued, "There are certainly debts to be paid. Know this, I did not know of the young lady until this night and much to each of our annoyance am I now involved. This is what I offer... you will take $5000 now and the remainder of $10,000 from a banque check which you will go pick up on the 'morrow. Certainly an acceptable amount of interest. The consequenses would be unfortunate for both of us, for even your rage may not be enough," the glint of the silvered katana catching the light as Spiral brought the weapon slowly around (+2 STR/blood-pool), "and I would not test it this night. What say you?" Sunday June 4th, 1995 4:33 a.m. "Alright, but this better be good - OR ELSE!" Denis warned, as he exited. "Let me close this for you," he offered, loudly slamming the door. "Prick," Spiral mumbled in his best modern slang while closing his cheque book. "Thanks Mister" Siobhan started, but Spiral cut her short with a wave of his hand. He dialed a number. He was calling Zurich, to let them know to cover the cheque at the local Wells Fargo bank. "Ja, Guten Morgen. Ich kann kein Deutsch. Bitte, ist da jemand dass kann mit mir English sprechen? Ja, danke." Spiral didn't speak German but he'd memorized some simple phrases to help get him someone that spoke English. When he'd finished with the bank, he turned back to Siobhan. "Mister, I just want to thank you," Siobhan said. She looked around. "Say, would you mind if I crashed here for a while?" Spiral's answer was to pick her up by the arm and bodily place her outside. He was still burning blood and would have to feed upon awakening. He felt he'd done enough for her. "I'll see you later - tonight," he told her, closing the door in her face. He returned to his bed, making sure everything was still well and that there were no chinks to let any hidden light through. He stroked Troika's head. "You'll have to stay on guard," he told her, before falling back into the death that passed for sleep among his kind. Sunday June 4th, 1995 4:38 a.m. Bringing himself back from the sleep that weighed upon him, Spiral took up his phone and made a call to his realtor arranging a meeting five hours after dusk at a local restaurant, "Oh, and I expect you to make your recommendations on a suitable residence at that time. That or I'll take my money to a more efficient realtor." He hadn't meant to sound so sharp, but his fatigue and annoyance were taking their toll. Setting down the phone, he wearily returned to the sleep of the dead. Sunday June 4th, 1995 8:25 p.m. Spiral's body reanimated, instantly sensing that the sun had set. Getting up, Spiral rushed to the window, looking out at the last fleeting rays of sunlight, fast disappearing beyond the mountains. The sky was touched with gold, fast turning to the colour of blood and then darkness. These dying colours came to Spiral as a reminder of his own hunger. Monday June 5th, 1995 3:38 a.m. Spiral rushed to Franklin Crown's residence, just as soon as he'd gotten the message from his answering machine. Touring Santa Cruz County by night, searching out suitable sites for his crypts, Spiral hand't expected anything to come up at such late notice, certainly someone of Crown's supposed social fastidiousness. Rushing to get dressed, Spiral arrived at Crown's mansion, an hour after the message on his machine had been recorded. He really didn't want to go, but as a newcomer, angering his clan's primogen was hardly the best way to get things started. There was enough bad blood between himself and Crown already. Spiral was ushured in by Crown's ghoul, Charles, a young handsome surfer type with neat blond hair, sparkling eyes and broad muscular shoulders. Crown and another vampire were waiting for him. "You're late," Crown growled. "I didn't get you answer until just now," Spiral replied testily. Realizing he'd displayed his anger, he added. "But I'm honoured you thought to invite me." "You are a Ventrue" Crown said, as if both regretting the fact and offering it as the only reason why Spiral was present. "Allow me to introduce my guest. Mirabella Giovanni" "I am charmed," the woman said, rising from her seat and extending her own hand. "And please, I'd prefer that you call me, Mira." Spiral was surprised. He'd never met one of the non-Camarilla clans before. All three of them took their seats while the ghoul, Charles, brought them glasses of blood. Spiral observed the Giovanni, while she engaged both himself and Crown in mindless chatter. Mirabella cut an elegant figure, in the best tradition of vampire seductress. Her sleeveless black silk dress was simple, yet sophisticated, especially given the cunning weave of gold weave that adorned the belt around Mira's tiny waste. Of course, the Giovanni were notoriously wealthy, Spiral thought. In this way, they passed the time, Crown glancing at his watch, always looking more annoyed. "Where is she?" he would be heard to mutter on occasion. Monday June 5th, 1995 4:16 a.m. Finally, after some time, the ghoul Charles ushered Diane Forester into the large formal sitting room, whose one dominant feature was a large picture window that seemed to take up one whole wall. Below them, as if viewing the scene from the edge of precipice, the vista of Santa Cruz lay before them. The lights of the city twinkled like coloured electric gems, still giving the sleepy town a melancholy look. Fog was starting to pour into the city, following the course of the river below them. "Ah, my dear, we've been expecting you." Franklin Crown got up from the stuffed horsehair chair which he often sat in, receiving guests as if the black seat were a throne. Spiral nodded cordially to Diane. "You know Spiral, of course," Crown motioned. "Allow me to introduce Mirabella Giovanni, who has recently arrived in Santa Cruz." "Call me, Mira," the woman said, rising from her seat and extending her own hand. "Charmed," Diane said. "Diane Forester." They all took their seats, giving Diane a moment to look over the newcomer as well. "Diane, where have you been keeping yourself?" Crown asked. "I sent for you hours ago." "Sent for?" Diane looked surprised. TCrown went on to ask, "So, how did you sleep?" "Fine," Diane smiled. "It's the best rest I've had in a fortnight." Suddenly, a woman's voice called into the room. "Frankie?" A look of panic appeared on Crown's face. "What?" he said, jumping up. "Excuse me!" was all he offered to his surprised guests before disappearing. They could all briefly hear Crown's voice, first arguing, then pleading, then patiently urging what sounded like a young woman. What he was trying to get her to do was a mystery as none of them could make out the words. Spiral spoke, deciding to end the awkward silence. "So, Mira, what brings you to Santa Cruz?" he asked. Of course her answer was purposely vague. "I'm here to visit an old family friend." Spiral was just about to ask what friend, when Diane butted in by saying, "That's a lovely dress you have there. Is it from Venice?" Mira's eyes shined. "No, Florence," she said. Spiral sagged down, prepared to be bored by talk of clothing and dresses. "Are you staying here with Franklin also?" Diane asked. Spiral didn't like the way she purposely used Crown's name in such a familiar fashion. Was her own position solidifying so quickly, he wondered. "No, I'm staying at the Bryce House," she said, surprising in her ready willingness to reveal her crypt. Probably, it was a lie. "Bryce House!" Crown exclaimed, upon returning suddenly. "But, that place is haunted! It's full of malevolent spirits. Kine won't go anywhere near it, I hear, day or night." Off in the distance, Sprial could hear a phone ringing until Charles answered it. "Which makes for the perfect resting place," Mira smiled. Spiral had heard that the Giovanni were necromancers. If true, then these supposed specters would be little problem for the vampiress. Crown was about to add something when Charles appeared, dragging a phone with attached cord. The phone was art deco, expensive and hopelessly spoke of being trapped in 20's decor. It seemed as "modern" as Crown could think, Spiral noted, observing the trappings around him. "What!" Crown's shocked voice answered. "I see. Well, in this at least, you have my support. I'll supply the reward, just like last time." He hung up the phone, which Charles silently took away. When they were alone again, Crown addressed the other vampires. "That was one of Perdicas' brood. That being who styles himself the Prince has called a Bloodhunt on the new Gangrel, the one calling himself Raphael." Though they didn't know him, both Diane and Spiral knew of him. He, like most Gangrel, was a solitary and aloof creature, only occasionally dealing with the subtle life of his vampire kindred. "What has he done to deserve this?" Spiral asked, shocked that a Bloodhunt against one of their own should be called so soon after their convalcade on the carousel. "He's embraced without permission. When Perdicas' Brujah nabbed the chylde, Raphael retaliated by killing several Brujah ghouls who were guarding the chylde. He's taken her to the mountains. The Prince has offered a substantial reward for whoever brings him proof of Raphael's death. I know, I'm supplying the reward." Before they could ask, Crown told them. "a vial of Giant's blood and a dagger." They were all silent for a while. It was Mirabella who spoke first. Smiling, she said, "And I thought I was going to be bored here." Monday June 5th, 1995 4:21 a.m. "Diane, I'm hurt...truly. You failed to return my message. I hope that everything is okay," said Spiral with a glance at Crown. Really, he did not blame Diane her involvement with Crown. Afterall, he'd supported her arrival and she owed him. Still, Spiral applauded her ability to stomach the Ventrue head. "I know, and I'm sorry Spiral", there was a note of genuine sorrow in her voice or skilled acting at the very least. "Something came up. I'd still like to talk to you sometime if that's OK?" "Crown, while it is always a pleasure visiting," said Spiral, "we are hardly Toreadors with nothing better to do than have a dinner party. I am sure you will forgive my directness in asking you the purpose of this meeting?" Spiral bit off several comments about Crown's leadership. Now, here in Santa Cruz, under the circumstances in which they'd arrived was hardly the time to foster further dissension. He'd play nice until he was more secure. Crown looked over at Spiral, seemingly distracted. "Hmm? Oh, Spiral, yes. I was going to suggest something but I think, given the night's late developments, that I'd better let it wait for the moment. That will be all." Crown waved his hand as if dismissing all those present, acting as if it were he who was reigning Prince of Santa Cruz. "Oh, not you Mira," Crown said, as the Giovanni vampiress rose from her seat. "I was hoping that you and I could finish our private little chat." Diane walked out of the house with Spiral as he left and commented in an undertone, "Looks like Frank's ranging far and wide for allies now. Wonder if the old dear still has a soul to sell...?" Tuesday, June 6th, 1995 5:50pm: The westward gleam of the retreating sun still haloed the evening sky. Spiral smiled as he set down the folder. The oceanside estate would do nicely. "Castillomar"...it had a nice ring to it as well. He'd talked to his financial offices and they would arrange the financing. A corporate-level security firm would be in on Wednesday to evaluate and prepare for security installation. He felt compromised by the were's visit the other night and this was a step in the right direction. The realtor had already had his creditline preapproved and the seller had already left the estate. "At least something will turnout alright," he sighed. That done, he thought of Siobhan again. "It's about time we got to know each other a bit better," he thought. On the third knock, Siobhan opened the door. Looking pensively down the hallway, she motioned him to enter. (Spiral at 14 blood) Tuesday June 6th, 1995 6:01 p.m. There was a sour metallic taste to the air that Spiral noted as he entered his neighbours apartment. It was a smell that he knew all too well - that of blood freshly spilled. Though mostly sated, the smell of it hit Spiral strongly and he found himself instinctively reaching for Siobhan's cut arm, as it was her blood he smelled. (Willpower Roll - 1 success) Seeing the look on his face, Siobhan retreated, holding a towel to her cut arm. Spiral was only barely able to control himself. "Ah, you've cut yourself," he said to her, feigning concern. Looking around, he noted that there was an open wooden bowl on the floor filled with blood - presumably hers. Crude blue chalk lines were drawn or sprinkled in a weird geometric pattern that for a time captured Spiral's eyes until he could force himself to tear his gaze away. (Willpower roll - 1 success) "I want to thank you for last night," she told him, her voice strangely confident and unafraid. "I want you to know that I'll pay you back, with interest." "What are these lines and this - bowl for?" Spiral couldn't help but to ask. "What is anything for ultimately," Siobhan replied. "Power, control - over oneself and one's destiny. I don't know you, but I suspect there's something of that search in yourself as well. So, neighbour, why did you come here tonight? What is it you're searching for? Maybe I can help you."
Back to Vampire Page
Back to World of Darkness
Back to Main Page