The year is 2020 and Seattle has quickly grown to become one of the vampiric society's finest cities.
The Camarilla rules the city with an iron fist, ensuring the survival of the Kindred, and with it, the
rule of the Masquerade: Their existence must remain a secret to humans, and the Prince of the City sits
at the top of the hierarchy, enforcing the laws of the undead.
The clans of the Camarilla fight for power: It's a game of chess and your next move might determine
the future of all. When push comes to shove, which side will you take - and as a character with the
potential to shift the game, what will your next move be?
SOME RULES ARE UNBREAKABLE
In the past few months, the rate of newly embraced vampires have skyrocketed - most of which has
not been sanctioned by Prince Algernon: The Camarilla have worked day and night trying to track
down the one's responsible, but where one lead ends, another begins. Unable to figure out the culprits
behind the mass-embrace, the Camarilla finds itself caught between trying to restore power and ensuring
that the laws of the Masquerade are not broken - again.
A Blood Hunt has been called, and the Scourge has been sent out - and so the Caitiff are being hunted
down: Nothing but Final Death awaits them.
The sound of glasses clinking together and the dull roar of casual conversations filled Moonie's ears as he sat at the bar, his head held upright by one hand. In the other hand sat a tumbler of scotch, to be stirred around and sipped from occasionally. Moonie wasn't particularly a drinker, but the L'asile had been around long enough for him to know that it was a safe place for him to be, especially on the second floor, where the rabble was a bit more...refined.
Leaning back into the chair a bit, Moonie stretched a hand into his monkey-suit jacket, checking the time on his phone. Suits weren't particularly his thing, but as an educator he felt a tinge of obligation to do so. Loosening his necktie by a measure, Moonie raised the tumbler to his lips once more, letting the poison slip further into his body. The burn was notable, but nothing in comparison to the dull lack of interest that his class had showed him early that night. Being an educator wasn't the plan initially, but Moonie had grown somewhat comfortable in the position. There wasn't really any push for him to switch things up, even though some classes were lackluster in his eyes. Some just didn't have the hunger that he did.
In fact, most didn't have the same hunger that Moonie held. Neither the hunger for knowledge, nor the hunger for blood that seemed to sit shotgun on his journey through un-life. Moonie detested the entire idea of it, but things were a bit too late at this point. A few decades too late. Luckily, today, Moonie wasn't particularly thirsty and as such could enjoy himself a bit. Had he not been so thirsty for knowledge in the first place, Moonie probably wouldn't be getting the opportunity to enjoy himself now anyways.
"What would you do? If you just knew? What would you do?", Moonie sang to himself, scanning the room around him for familiar faces and interesting sights. "I know it's sad that I never gave a damn about the weather, and it never gave a damn about me," he continued, his eyes finally settling on a familiar face. With a wave, Moonie rose from his chair, and began shuffling his way across the floor over to her. 'It sure is good to see that face,' Moonie thought to himself, rubbing his hand into the back of his jew-fro.
Adding the VIP section to the second floor was likely the best thing Calliope had ever done: While the first floor brought in the most money, at the very least, she had a place for familiar faces to escape to when the lower floor became filled with too many unfamiliar ones. Not everyone earned access to the second floor - which was intentional. No, it was reserved for important people and the people Calliope knew, only.
And of course, those who had the cash to pay for it.
Wearing a red dress that perfectly captured her figure and her hair hanging loosely over one shoulder, Calliope had taken the role as hostess with importance. After all, a luxurious club as hers was only as good as its owner.
Standing next to a few members of Clan Ventrue, listening and entertaining their business talks, her attention was immediately caught by a hand raising in a wave. Blue eyes turned and a smile formed on her lips. "Excuse me." She told the fellow Kindred she had been talking to and pushed herself away from the counter as she made her way towards the approaching man.
Moonie had always been an interesting character: He was far more pleasant than most from his clan, and he had an interesting view on the world. While she didn't necessarily agree with it, she didn't mind it, either. After all, she had always enjoyed the presence of those that saw the world differently - however way that might be. "Mr. Abrams." She cooed playfully. "You look absolutely..." She lifted her hand and made a circling motion with it. "Well." She added with a smile. "You look like you're enjoying yourself. I'm glad."
Moonie beamed at Calliope as her eyes turned to meet his. She'd always been fairly nice to him, at least in comparison to others of their kind, especially those from his own clan, and kindness always went far in Moonie's eyes. Those who could be kind for no reason besides the act itself were some of his favorites. Calliope interested Moonie, genuinely, as she held the ability not only to enjoy the company of humans but also to create a space in which she could easily accommodate both humans as well as kindred. Lost in a world of philosophy, one of Moonie's favorite pastimes was profiling people based on their words and actions. In his mind, people are different, and thus should be treated differently to suit their needs. Profiling helped with that.
"Why, thank you!" Moonie replied to his company warmly, still a hint of an Indian accent tinging his voice. Glancing her up and down, Moonie continued, "It's great to see you tonight, you look as elegant as ever," he finished, his last words stretching themselves for emphasis. "Business seems to be doing pretty well," he spoke again with a teasingly raised eyebrow, "I hope the universe has treated you with the same sort of goodness since we last spoke? How have you been?"
For a moment, Moonie's face lit up like a starry night, and he hurriedly dug through his bag on his side. Paperwork. No. Rubrics. No. Eventually, Moonie produced an older book, bound together by leather. "This is for you! It's a little dense, but it's got some really interesting things on art and hosting and other stuff about how art and humanity go hand in hand. I think it's quite interesting. Art is what separates man from beast, right?" Moonie said through a laugh, extending the tome towards his friend.
Making a show by spreading her arms out and doing a curtsy, Calliope offered a light chuckle. "Ah, well. It comes with the territory." And several decades that had eventually made her rich enough to buy clothes of the finest quality. And Moonie was quite right: Business was doing well. Especially after she had built herself a reputation within the various clans of the Camarilla. "It has," she began, pursing her lips in light amusement. "While the recent outbreak of fledglings seem to put our Ventrue brethren on high alert, it has done wonders for my business." She cast a brief glance over the room. "Though, I hear the requests for Elysiums have grown over the past days."
Elysiums were the neutral grounds for vampires where using their powers was prohibited. They often served as gathering places for the Kindred. Perhaps the recent outbreaks had scared the vampiric society more than one would imagine.
Curiosity colored her blue eyes as Moonie started digging through his bag. Her head tilted as she carefully watched him looking for something. Then, in a flurry only he could manage, he pulled out an old book. "That is what art is, indeed." She readily agreed, unable to keep the childlike glee from her voice as slender fingers ran over the book's cover before holding firm. Turning it around, she studied the fine handiwork of the cover. "Ah, you know me too well." She mused, opening the book and scanning the first few pages.
She could always appreciate a fellow Kindred, especially one that did not belong to her clan, sharing her passion in art. Whatever that art form might be. "The humanity part is a nice touch." She mused. "If I didn't know you any better, I might think you're trying to butter me up." She looked up at him through her lashes, lips quirking upwards into an amused smile. "Thank you. I love it."
"Yes, it seems things are a bit...," Moonie's words drift for a moment as he closes his bag and returns the strap to his shoulder, "hectic these days." Moonie pauses for a moment, thought visibly crossing his face like a leaf over a stream, "I worry about the implications of these events, but it is extremely nice to know that establishments such as yours are here." Moonie's words bore the weight of both truth and solemnity, as the struggle to find a place of reprieve in trying times is one of many things that the young-ish philosopher knew all too well.
Pleased at the acceptance of his gift, Moonie reached for Calliope's hand to spin her in place. "As if an enchantress such as yourself would need to be buttered up," Moonie replied through a toothy grin. "You're very welcome! I just wish my students cared as much for aesthetics, they've really been running me ragged about this lesson. Appreciation for the small things always takes a back seat. Kids these days, I suppose they'd say,"he told her, with a tinge of frustration and sadness on his voice. Moonie's expression faded into an emotionless one for a few moments, before his eyes scanned back across Calli, bringing his attention back to the present. "On the bright side, I get to enjoy the itinerary, I suppose. Even if my students don't,"Moonie finished, almost sighing his last words into speech.
Feeling his stress returning, Moonie's hand ventured into his jacket to retrieve a small THC vaporizer pen, with which Moonie would begin to take long, but slow drags from. Thankfully, these pens smelled more of carrots than the skunky aroma of other cannabis products. Not everyone likes the smell, that was something Moonie knew well. "So many create art,"he began again cheerily, "with the intention of creating something that immortalizes them. Something that will last many generations to tell part of their story. And here we are, enjoying their work in a timeless manner. It's a bit of a dark, yet entertaining idea."Many of the ideas that are held as truths in mortal eyes break down very quickly in the midst of eternal life. It was the way of the world, according to Moonie. Laws built around the idea of mortality aren't really laws, after all, once you add in immortal variables. The conditions aren't the same.
Calliope nodded along with his words: It was a delicate situation, for sure. It had sent the vampiric society in an uproar and it had become rather clear that the Prince was looking for someone to blame. They would all be much better off simply keeping their heads down until all of this blew over. "All I can wish for is that it stays that way." She wouldn't put it past the Prince to ask for establishments like these to shut down until they could get the situation under control.
Here was to hoping.
Another laugh bubbles past her lips as she was spun around in place. "Always the charmer." She mused through a smile. While Calliope appreciated almost everything that came with humans and their humanity, it was very easy for her and her kine to forget that they were still young and didn't have the same experience under their belt as she and Moonie did. "Well, try not to be so hard on them. We might look young forever, but that doesn't change the fact that we're old. Older than most of them will ever get." She quirked an amused eyebrow his way. "They'll get there eventually."
It was obvious that Moonie was very in-tune with his humanity and in some ways, Calliope envied him for that. It seemed to come so easy for him, while many other members of their kine struggled. Heck, some didn't even have a slight interest in humanity as a whole. It was a saddening thought. While they were no longer considered human, they had all started out that way.
"Immortality comes in many forms." She said with a hint of a smile toying around her lips. "Some chase it through art and some..." She trailed off, offering the man a wink. "Oh." She suddenly said, as if only just remembering. Placing one hand atop Moonie's shoulder, she pointed towards a closed off section of the VIP area. "That section of this floor isn't used for anything yet, and I was thinking of perhaps doing something new. It can't all be drinks and dancing, after all." She grinned a little at that as she started moving towards the closed off section, gesturing for Moonie to follow.
Without trouble, the bouncer guarding the entrance and making sure no one would venture too far, let the pair of them through, offering nothing but a simple nod in greeting. It was a small hallway leading to grand double doors. Opening them, Calliope stepped through the doors, revealing a spacious, but empty room. "I was thinking of doing something with the room, but I haven't been able to decide what." It was large enough that it offered quite a lot of possibilities, but not so large that the possibilities were endless. "Perhaps some form of art show?" She mused, more so to herself.
Moonie nodded his head in agreement, "That is very true, I suppose. You can't exactly expect a child to match an adult. Maybe I just expect great things out of those I take into my tutelage." It was true, regardless of how the Kindred professor felt about it. It had been so many years since he'd been in the shoes of the students in his class, so many dark years. On top of that, Moonie's inner saboteur had its way of goading him towards feeding on his class. The willpower and focus to avoid making a feast out of class 302B took up enough mental real-estate on its own.
Moonie raised an eyebrow as Calliope words trailed off before being pulled away towards where she'd been pointing. "You've always got something up your sleeve, don't you, sly woman?" Moonie teased as the passed through the double doors into the new space. The smell of the room filled his airways as he took a moment to scan the bare room. Sometimes nothing is something, and in this moment, Moonie recognized that. "You know, it's said that nothingness is just a boot-loader for something. Once it becomes something, it is nothing like what it was before, yet still nothing. I feel it fuels abstract thought, if there's anything to it," Moonie's voice trailed off at the end, as his pace stopped him in front of the back wall of the space.
With a hand flat against the wall in front of him, Moonie looked upwards to the ceiling and took a deep breath before turning to his company. "An art gallery would be entirely feasible. Perhaps I could put you in contact with some of the creative art directors at the university, if you aren't already, of course," Moonie mused openly, almost as if his thoughts were lost in the emptiness of the room, bouncing from wall to wall. Pacing the room now, Moonie shot a glance at Calliope, "Or maybe a little fight club! Martial "ARTS", right?" he snorted with a jolly laugh.
Surely, the only ones who would take that seriously were those from his own clan, Moonie thought to himself, watching Calliope's face intently. Slowly sinking into the floor, legs folded underneath himself, Moonie yawned dramatically. "You could use it to host private events like small parties/events also. Can't you imagine a bachelorette party in here? Ten firemen and a pole, and you're ready to go!" Moonie's face curved into the deepest of grins as he inspected his company and the room further.
A soft smile formed on the blonde's lips as she regarded her friend, "While that isn't a bad thing, I also think it's important to remember that not everyone is made to live up to certain expectations." But that was exactly what made humans to beautiful. They were reckless and for the most part very silly beings, but they were also fierce and no matter how much time you spend around them, they could always surprise you.
Calliope chuckled at the tease, the sound innocent and childlike. "Yes, yes I do." She raised her hand and tapped the tip of her index finger against her temple. "It's what makes me so interesting." Calliope studied the younger kindred as he spoke: Moonie had always had a way with words and had she been a Malkavian, she might have found him irresistibly confusing. "Mmm." She mused, "That can be said for words too, you know." She pointed out teasingly.
"Come on, Moonie." She cooed, "While the fighting spirit runs strong in your clan, I cannot say the same for mine." Still, he had a good point. She could use this space for whatever she wanted and the options were limitless. "A fight club might not be my style, but you're quite right. I could do anything I want." But that was the difficult part, wasn't it? Deciding what one wanted when one's mind and creativity was the only limitation.
She considered his latter suggestion then, her hand rising to cup her chin as she moved her gaze about the room. "Ten firemen, you say?" She tilted her head, as if considering. She had to admit that it didn't sound so bad. "I might be too tempted to host my own fake bachelorette parties if that's the case." She knew that wasn't entirely what he'd meant, of course, but who could blame a girl for having dreams?
"Perhaps it's time to bring back something more antique. A masquerade ball, perhaps."
