Crows and Ravens (Invite)

[Elizabeth]

To say that the almighty and knowledgeable Crow may be back had simply uplifted Elizabeth’s spirit was an understatement. This is what she has been waiting for. A sign that she would return and order would be restored to the hectic and chaotic nights that were upon them.

But before the telepath elder would put any faith in this group, she had to speak with one of their members, to ensure that their goals and ideals were aligned close enough for the woman to take any interest in the group. After speaking with a member by the name of Mervin Aquino, the woman found the group to be slightly radical at first. It made Elizabeth leary, to think of the rift being ripped open to encompass more of the world.

Or was it that radical of a concept? Had she not had this same discussion and thoughts with her family? What would they do in five or ten years from now when none of them had aged in any significant direction? And why would The Crow not desire for the rift to be opened wider? She was a great entity that cared greatly for the vampire species, after all, was it not her who led Isabella here in an attempt to grant their kindred brother and sisters true immortality?

The woman gave this some considerable thought as everything she had heard weighed greatly upon her shoulders. Aligning herself with a group, any group, could be dangerous to those she loved and cared for immensely, but to do nothing and potentially watch any option, and second rebirth of the Crow in their city again was not a risk Elizabeth was willing to take. To sit back and do nothing, could be far more harmful than doing something.

With the decision to do something, Elizabeth returned to her tower of Ivory and began to reach out to those in her family through the means of mindspeak. First, Shamus would be contacted and spoken to about her thoughts, followed by various members of the family she knew were around and might wish to assist. If they showed, Elizabeth would explain further her desire to help the Disciples. If they did not, that was their business and right. Elizabeth never expected anyone to believe in a cause just because she did, or demanded they helped in a fight they wished to not be part of.

Sitting not far from the Christmas tree she had not taken down yet, Elizabeth waited in a chair for members of the family to start showing up, once she had included the necessary information on where to find her in the white tower.

[Valon (DELETED 5253)]

“Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight. Seventy-nine. Eighty.”

The final round clicked into the magazine with a gentle tick-tick sound of the drum’s spool mechanism locking into place. Carefully, he set the magazine alongside six other, identical drums. Four hundred eighty rounds sounded a fair amount to Valon as he ran his eyes along the rollaway cloth splayed across the tabletop, his small arsenal laid out along the padded fabric.

The six magazines weren’t alone. Ten fragmentation grenades, two claymore anti-personnel mines, two four-inch combat knives, a Beretta M9 sidearm, four 9mm magazines, and two bricks of C4 plastique explosives and detonators were sprawled across the table.

His assembled rifle leaned against the table, freshly cleaned and as ready for action as he was. His preparations had only taken half an hour once he had heard his sire’s request for assistance. There were very few things he was truly skilled at, but killing was what he had been born for. This much, he could do for them, for his family.

He stood in a rush, his hands moving quickly as he assembled the arsenal, organizing it neatly into the prepared field pack with the first aid kit and survival tools that always kept close to the canvas pack. The grenades clipped neatly into a bandolier resting across his shoulder, pistol resting against his thigh in a holster strapped to his leg. The rifle was rolled into the top of the pack, a wide strip of nylon ribbon securing the assault weapon to his supplies. One knife went into his boot, the other slipped into a sheath incorporated into the bandolier at his shoulder. The ammunition, mines, and plastique were stacked neatly into the pack with the first aid kit, a spool of steel wire, a roll of small steel stakes, a length of clean linen, and a steel spile.

Be prepared.
Be prepared for the worst.
Be prepared to die.
Because you aren’t going to fail again.

Shouldering the pack, he shoved his arms through either support, resting the heavy gear evenly across his back. The weight that would have required effort to heft before was insubstantial against his spine. Newfound strength had caused the most tremendous of tasks to become everyday tedium. Every day, he trained himself to become faster, stronger, smarter. Every night, after his shift at Eclipse, he made the rounds of Tarisyn’s other businesses before heading to the caverns.

He spent every moment from the end of his shift to moments before dawn bathing the stones of the labyrinth in the blood of the faeish creatures beneath the earth. He showed no mercy, killing each and every target with ruthless impunity. He was built for the killing. He was programmed for this, and nothing else.

He was ready.

The small apartment he kept wasn’t far from Miss Elizabeth’s tower. The trip was short, the way easy to find. The Ivory Tower jutted above the city like a beacon, a bastion of the true family that he had been pulled into with his own rebirth.

The spot was easy enough to find. They had gathered there just recently, a Christmas celebration with the family. It was a brief moment of happiness and togetherness, before everyone went their own way again.

When he approached, he found his sire sitting alone in a chair near the tree. He was the first to arrive, surprisingly, and had his pick of places to wait. He chose to stand, waiting just shy of the seat that she had taken, shrugging the pack from his back and setting it in the floor at his feet. Turning to his sire, he gave her a quick nod in greeting, the usual exchange that he offered between them.

“Ma’am.”

[Tarisyn (DELETED 5265)]

“Ma’am, I assure you, the order will be ready by the fifteenth.” She struggled to keep her voice calm as she balanced the receiver between her ear and shoulder, fingers tapping anxiously across the keys to Eclipse’s main computer. The database whirred to life on the screen, and she tapped the down arrow with a twinge too much pressure, causing it to snap under her index finger as she highlighted the customer’s name. Michelle Blanton. The name was all too familiar, as was the shrill voice barking commands in her ear. The killer was on the verge of a breakdown, and she knew the moment that her vision began to go red that she was testing the limit of her restraint. With as much patience as she could muster, she straightened up in her chair and clutched the plastic of the phone tight.

“Miss Blanton,” she snapped, instantly causing the voice on the other line to fade off, giving her the ability to continue unhindered, “if you want the order finished, you need to quit pestering my staff. You call again, and I’ll scrap the order entirely. Am I clear?” After the affirmation was all but squeaked out, she slammed the receiver back into its cradle and pinched the bridge of her nose. It had been the same thing since she had returned to work. Her staff had barely been able to keep her businesses above water without her, and now that her reputation was all but deceased, she was struggling to get things sorted. Pushing back from her chair, she pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail and headed out of her office, her steps steady despite the madness seeping into her mind.

No one is safe from the lioness.

The voice brought her up short, though it wasn’t the words that had frightened her. It was the venom that had dripped from them, poisoning her thoughts. Gripping the edge of the counter, she felt the cedar crack beneath the strain and embed pieces of wood into her skin. As her blood filled the air, she found herself unable to focus on anything but the scent. Every sense was heightened, causing her to be hyper aware of all the miniscule details that surrounded her. From the scratch of fabric that set her teeth on edge to the heavy smell of perfume that seemed to coat her tongue - every little thing nudged her closer to her breaking point. I need to get the **** out of here. No sooner had the thought filled her mind, than another voice took up residence, the soft, commanding tone familiar. Furrowing her brows in confusion, she managed to relinquish her grip on the counter’s edge and step back as she used her wounded hand to pull out her cell.

[Text: Valon] I’ll be there shortly. I’m feeling off.

The warning, as subtle as it was, would be enough to prepare her sire for what was to come. Though their relationship was still uncertain, she knew that she could count on him to take care of her. Tucking her phone back into the confines of her jean pocket, she scribbled a note on a piece of paper and taped it to the register before crouching down to dig through her bag. Finding the familiar, lightweight relic in a pocket, she squeezed it in her hand and braced herself. The world spun around her, sights and scents blurring together as her body was transported from her business to the garden. The second her feet touched the ground, she brushed a few stray strands from her hair and stepped towards the shop, hastily tossing a few hundreds onto the counter. Seeing the look in her eyes, the shopkeep quickly grabbed her two bags of blood and nodded in the direction of the small gathering, making sure to warily keep their distance.

Ripping the corner off of one with her teeth, she found the familiar muscular outline of her sire and made her way to his side, her purchase securely tucked in her hand. “Elizabeth,” she greeted warmly, in spite of the demon clawing at her chest. “Is everything okay?”

[Cosimo Alessi (DELETED 6612)]

Cosimo was in the middle of a break-in when he heard Elizabeth’s voice in his head. The Italian was ensconced in complete, dead silence when the voice had broken through and he’d had to tense to keep himself from dropping the lockpick. Material shushed against material as Cosimo turned; as if his head were a transmitter and the voice were broadcast to the warehouse around him. But, of course, no one else could hear it. He was still safe. Unseen. And the door… well, he had lost his concentration, and he had to start all over again.

In order to concentrate, he had to try not to think about Elizabeth’s summons. Rather than rush, he had to take his time. The last thing he wanted to do was trip the alarm - even though he was more prone to that, these days. With Athena sleeping, on and off, and his nights filled with the same menial tasks and little conversation or interaction… it put him on edge. He wasn’t used to it.

Maybe he was always destined to be confused. He had lived his life as a happy boy. A happy man. Silver linings were his philosophy. Negativity was a foreign concept and now that it was bleeding its way into his psyche, he had no idea what it was. He mentally poked and prodded at it until it hurt, like childishly picking at a scab until it stung, and then bled. Of course he had been the victim of bad days; he had suffered death of loved ones, unexpected and brutal. He had been tortured, his ego and confidence stripped from him and flogged, given back to him in tattered pieces. And yet he had bounced back. He had grasped his optimism, and every day since the worst day was a better day than that day. Who couldn’t be happy with that?

Grief was a logical consequence of such events, however. Cosimo could look back and say of course I was upset. Who wouldn’t be? Now, though? There was no event. There was nothing to which he could attribute the negativity, and so it confused him. It threw him off balance. He didn’t know what this constant anxiety was, this stress that had him grinding his teeth, sometimes, without realising it.

Given his recent propensity for failure, however, he focused on the easier warehouses, rather than the more complex. There were still some items that he could use when he found himself back at the forge, and anything else he would sell.

At least when he tomed home after Elizabeth’s summons, he wasn’t riddled with bullet wounds. At least he had managed to get out of his spree of thievery undetected, for once. Dressed all in black with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, he made his way through the Ivory Tower to where the others were gathered. He smiled warmly to those there - even those he still did not know so well - though the warmest smile was reserved for his sire. He dropped onto the couch beside her, silent, though the odds and ends clinked in his bag as he moved.

He was rather lost, in regards to the Crow and what all this meant. But, that’s why he was here. To find out.

[Mora]

The Crypt.

She barely left. She left when she really needed to, sometimes she would sit on the stone flooring with her eyes closed and prowl through the Deux Corbeaux CrowNet, or even her very own family one - when someone spoke up which was rare. Mora liked the quiet so it didn’t bother her.

Mora often tracked her childer, sending her wraith to follow them from afar. Not to make herself known. Shanks’ she called the invisible being. ”Who am I following tonight, Master?” The invisible voice carried its way over to Mora’s ears as she opened a careful eye. To look upon her husband resting against the alter. She smiled at him fondly, even if she was staring at his back.

“Caia, tonight. She’s new. She needs help. Watch out for her, guide her if you must. If she gets into trouble, come find me at once.” She could feel the presence of the wraith vanish within a few moments. Leaving the telepath once again alone with her thoughts. She began to close her eyes again letting herself drift off into a trance - skirting the boundaries of Vathia as they called to her like they often did most nights. It was often hard for the woman to differentiate between what was real and what was dream.

”Mora.”

The telepath opened her eyes suddenly, a voice had slipped into her mind. Her walls didn’t go up though. She knew who the voice belonged to, she relaxed a little. It had been some time since someone had spoken to her telepathically.

”Elizabeth…” She responded to the woman. Pushing her thoughts into her adoptive sire’s mind. She waited a couple of moments. Closing her eyes once more, the soothing sound of the fountain in the background.

”Come to the Ivory Tower.”

It was a summoning of sorts and who was Mora to decline the invite by the woman she chose to be her mentor, and sire? Elizabeth needed her for something for sure the fellow telepath could feel it in her fiber. She opened her eyes again, went to the fadeportal and landed against the concrete of Honeymead station. Bare footed.

She teleported herself to Beta Towers, where in one of her many lockboxes of her other apartment she held the tome that would get her to the Ivory Tower garden. Mora wore a white dress. Her rifle was in the one hand. She never left the crypt without a weapon, she was too nervous. She had become a crypt dweller. She never liked to leave her husband's side.

After finding the tome she needed in her apartment she read it out loud and landed on the gardens where she went to the elevator and descended to the correct floor and into the main area. She noticed Elizabeth straight away and then there were faces she had never seen before. She didn’t notice them because she didn’t live at the tower anymore. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone. She kept herself at the back of the room, her hand gripped on the stock of the rifle.

”I’m here…” She slipped into the woman’s mind. Letting her know that she was here - even if she was at the back and out of everyone’s way.

[Elizabeth]

One, by one, members started finding their way to the roof; though not as many as Elizabeth had hoped or expected. Cosimo, Mora, Tari and Valon arrived not long after her husband went to look into something in regards to what was in the lock boxes and their bank accounts. But, did numbers really matter? Could not three or four highly trained and skilled individuals be as successful, if not more successful than seven or eight who were mediocre? “Tea, anyone?” Elizabeth asked as her eyes fell on the porcelain tea pot in the middle of the table she was sitting at, along with eight matching tea cups. “Thank you all for coming.” She smiled warmly to them all before Elizabeth extended a hand, offering them all a seat before she continued. "Perhaps, a quick round of introductions would suit everyone before we dive into the reasoning as to why I beckoned thee." A single pointer finger extended to each member as she spoke their names, or at least a version of their names. Cosimo's and Tarisyn's name had been shortened to what Elizabeth referred to them as; Cosi and Tari, but Valon was Valon and Mora was Mora.

“As you may suspect, I find it very favourable that disciples of the Crow herself are here within the city and reaching out for kindred to listen to her words. I ran into a disciple of her's this eve and found myself intrigued, nonetheless.” Elizabeth could prattle on and on about the glorious entity she believes was a woman, but decided to not waste anyone’s time on things they may not agree with, nor understand. After all, it was her personal feelings, not theirs. “I have decided that I will be donating significant funds to the group after speaking with one of their members, as I believe we need to keep her presence within the city. It is for our benefit, well and truly. We will not be able to stay here forever and she has led our species to this safe haven in the past. This is truth and what I know, personally. To ignore her now, after sharing such precious knowledge would only harm our kind. Perhaps even crush it in the future.” The woman stood, and moved towards the middle of the table where she poured herself a cup of tea and brought it back over to where she was sitting.

“However, I do not believe giving them funds alone, will help them as much as I would like it to. We need to get their presence known. Spread the word, so to speak. Has anyone any suggestions?” Her mug was placed in front of her untouched, before her hands were folded and placed before the tea cup where she waited to look at the members of her family.

[Valon (DELETED 5253)]

Shaking his head, he stood his ground, feet remaining firmly planted to the floor. Like a tree, he towered over the spot; his seven foot stature left him towering over most things these nights. His pack rested atop his polished leather boots, his rifle leaning against his thighs as the pack leaned back against him. When his childe appeared, he offered her a nod as well, acknowledging that he had gotten her message, and tipping his head back, beckoning her to his side.

As she approaches, he shifts his weight, and wraps a long, powerful limb around her shoulders. He looks from her to his sire as the other woman begins to speak. The question she poses them causes him to shift his weight again, his arm tightening around Tarisyn. Her businesses were successful, in spite of her insistence to the contrary. He, however, could only help herald such a group in one way.

“There is something.” He lifted a hand, thumbing his nose as he gave the rifle against his legs a gentle nudge. “We find the enemies of the Crow. Just a handful will suffice.” He gave a small, reserved smile as he moved closer to the table, his arm sliding from around his childe’s shoulders to press his hand to the table’s surface. “We find them, and we crush them. Brutally. We make an example of them. We put them on display, somewhere public. Somewhere only those that will understand will see them. My suggestion is the QZ. Public. Off limits to the humans.”

He nodded, tapping a single finger on the table, punctuating the thought. He had his own ideas for the execution as well. Slow, brutal, horrific. The display had to be grisly, it had to burn horror in the minds of those that saw it. Nothing quite put the fear in your enemies like a good flaying. He was sufficiently experienced, too. Stripping the skin from a man was delicate work, there were so many ways that it could go wrong, that you could kill your subject before you were finished with them. That would hardly do.

In truth, he was unsure of how the tactic would be taken by the rest of the room. He was still deeply rooted in his old ways, still quite ready to jump into the role of the questioner, the torture master. Military life ground its way into your very being that way. A man can leave the army, but the army never leaves the man.

Dark eyes moved to his sire again and he nodded. He pulled his knife from the shoulder sheath of his bandolier and flipped the polished steel in his hand. “I might have a few ideas. Overt displays of power and aggression are a certain… artistry. I have much practice.” He smirked, and flipped the knife over once more before he pushed it back into the sheath. If he had no approval, no volunteers to help him in his task, then he would have two options left to him. Go ahead with the plan on his own, going rogue, or follow up with simply offering to assist in whatever other plans come to fruition, in whatever way he might be useful. The uses for a killing machine were relatively limited, but he would do what he could.

He stood again, and prowled back the paces to his childe, and stepped into her side. Gently, his arm rested about her shoulders again, his frame sliding back into his natural, rigid posture as he waited for the others’ ideas or suggestions.

[Tarisyn (DELETED 5265)]

One by one, they all bleed out.

The sing-song voice echoed throughout the garden, but she knew that it was reserved for her ears alone. No one else would hear the anthem as they gathered around the table, and for that, she was thankful. It was her curse to bear, and the thought of anyone else knowing - or even suspecting - turned her blood to ice. What would they do if they found out the truth? The answer was simple - she would never find out. She refused to allow anyone the chance to witness how twisted she had become. She held onto the hope of redemption until her fingers bled, and she utterly refused to have her reputation tarnished again. Once had been more than enough - her name and pictured plastered across all new stations, painting her as a villain instead of the innocent victim she had been had lead her to where she was today.

Dead.
Demonic.

Sliding beneath the heavy weight of his arm, she brought her blood pack back to her lips and gave a soft pull. The thick crimson fluid flooded her mouth and danced along her taste-buds, before coating her throat as she swallowed it down as if she were starving. The satisfaction that the sweet copper brought her caused a soft sound to emit from her throat, though her soft features remained impassive. When the plastic container was drained, she clutched it tightly into her fist to make room for the second, her teeth ripping into it with a fervor. When she felt his arm tighten across her shoulders, his hand resting dangerously close to her throat, she forced herself to slow her intake, despite the painful twist in her stomach. She knew that this wasn’t going to be enough, and the urge to throw him aside and rip into the nearest warm body overtook her. How hard would it be to break free of four unsuspecting vampires?

No! You’re better than this. Fight it, T.
Don’t fail him again.

Gritting her teeth, she swallowed down another mouthful of blood just as Elizabeth’s soft voice spoke her name. In an instant, she had morphed her features into something far more acceptable. The manic hunger had been cooled, and her sea green eyes held a feigned warmth to them. When she noticed that her sire had all but ignored the introductions, she sent her elbow into his rib-cage before forcing a smile. “Pleasure.” she spoke, her Dutch accent heavier than usual due to her distress. She made no excuses for the towering male at her side, and instead stepped easily to the side when he moved for the table. She knew before he opened his mouth what his plan would be, and the beast inside of her howled in glee.

Kill them all. Rip them to shreds, let the city run red!

“Or we could do something less drastic.” The words left her before she could control them, and she knew the moment she had drew his ire. As he stalked back to her side, she narrowed her eyes on his and gave a subtle shake of her head. She remained impassive when he wound his arm back around her, the embrace giving them an air of solidarity, despite their differences. He welcomed Death with open arms, having been birthed from the pits of Hell to vanquish any and all life. She was more reluctant in her acceptance of Death, having been born to the light. Now, however, her innocence had been tarnished, leaving her soul to bathe in the thick black ink of murder and sin. Yet, no matter how much blood coated her hands, she would never be as washed in crimson as the man that held her tightly to his side.

“There are other ways to support a group. I know very little about the Crow, but what I have heard in my time here - I might have a few ideas.” Fighting to keep her voice cool, she pressed her hand to his chest to force him back a step. The movement left her enough room to slip from his embrace, and she casually crushed the second emptied back in her hand. “I own four businesses - four very different businesses - and each are rather popular. In a way, Valon had a good point - violence. I’m sure these Disciples are having to fight for their territory. I could handle their weapon needs from Blood Moon.” She was on a tangent now, her gaze distant as she stared over the woman’s head. It was clear that her mind was racing to piece together everything that she would need - and what else she could offer. Tapping her fingers against her lower lip, she barely felt the hunger as she snapped her fingers. “T-shirts, posters - yes, this could work. #Rift. We could portray them as a new brand. Our kind would know exactly what it meant, and the humans would be interested in the new hip thing. I could promote it from New Moon, and not only would they receive a cut of the profit, but they would also get the popularity.”

Her mind seemed to be racing quicker than she could process, and as she dropped the emptied plastic into the nearest trash can, she snapped her gaze to Elizabeth’s. “You see the route I’m taking here, I’m sure. I know that violence isn’t for everyone,” she spoke as she cast her sire a pointed look before turning her attention back to the woman. “I have two other businesses I could promote their fame from, each having a rather loyal customer base. Whatever I promote, they will buy. I’m seeing crows flying across the city for the design, though when it comes to that, we can have a variety.” As her excitement cooled, she moved back to Valons’ side and reached into his pocket for another stack of hundreds. Holding up a finger to the group, she made a bee-line for the shop and ordered another pack of blood, her mind still crafting ways to benefit the faction that her grandsire seemed so invested in. When the shop-keep reluctantly handed her another pack, she flashed him a dangerous smile and resumed her designated spot next to her sire.

[Shamus]

Nervous. It was a feeling he had many times before, but this time was different. He wasn’t nervous about death, he still felt that something was amiss. If he thought it through enough, he would probably say it was because Crow was involved. He had never trusted the word of Crow, her old laws having almost gotten him killed several times by the council. That was all in the past, he had moved on from the ideas of solely for himself. Now Shamus was a family guy, but thoughts of the past still lingered.

Even with this haunt of the past, more feelings still stirred. Elizabeth, his Tulip, stood with him now. As much as she leaned on him for strength, Shamus also leaned on her. When the disappearance of Crow came to be, she was so heartbroken and he was able to guide her from those dark times. With the return of Crow, her mood would be even brighter, but he could not share the enthusiasm. Truth be told, he would go on and live like he always had, but the presence of Crow would stir the masses and prevent him from doing what all he pleased.

Casually he pushed a hand through his hair. Now was not the time for Shamus to think of such matters. A threat was coming to his family. A threat that was a consequence from taking sides. But a threat was a threat nonetheless. He of all vampire would not let this go, whether asked for or not. His eyes narrowed as he looked over the knives he had assembled. The subtle light that reflected off of the polished blades was hypnotic. A small smile crossed his features. If push came to shove, it would be a river of blood. That would be his toll.

Gently he picked up each knife and marveled at them in turn before placing it in its place.The suit coat for the evening was littered with knives on the inside. A quirk of a grin took hold of its feature. The stains there would be would make his dry cleaners protest. Shamus threw his head backwards and began to bark with laughter. Oh the joy it will be when he can see their faces. As the laughter began to fade, his jaw began to clench. The joy it will be to see those unknown faces. The faces that he would burn into his memory. It was a special occasion after all. These nights it was a rare event he was able to watch the light fade from another man’s eyes. He would be sure to dress for the occasion.

A hand fell into his pocket and touched the book that held something he didn’t much care for: Magic. It was useful, he had to admit that much. His Catholic roots ran deep, though. Shamus sighed softly to himself before he recited the words that he had come to memorize. His body began to tingle as his molecules began to shift. One moment he was sitting in an apartment he had set aside specifically as a weapon storage and the next he was standing on the rooftop of the DC manor. He sat upon the edge of the ledge and looked out over the city. Soon… Very soon… He would have more than enough materials for a master piece.

His master piece would have to wait quite a bit longer than he realized. Elizabeth was in the midst of serving tea. It was one of her past time pleasures that Shamus could not understand, but he had his own that were the same to her. His eyes took the surroundings and those that had gathered so far before turning to look at the grounds below. The conversation among the group slowly washing over him. The children frolicking in the park before bed seemed to be of more interest. After some time, he lost interest in them as well.

During the course of time as Shamus tried to find something else to hold his attention, he thought over Elizabeth's words. He chuckled softly to himself as he now realized what that two hundred thousand was actually for. Not that it really mattered. Two hundred thousand or two hundred million, it didn't matter. At one point in time he wanted to save his money and be rich. Now however, he had lived the life of being rich and he did the same things as when he did not have two pennies to rub together. Money meant nothing to him.

Valon was the first to speak his mind. Brutality at its finest. Shamus bobbed his head with a bit of a nod as he agreed. That would work, but it would need more finesse than brute force. The subtle touch of cruelty would change minds more than idiotic fools being murdered. His mind touched out to Elizabeth's, He has a good point, but a message should be sent to all with the loss. Murder is fine, but what happens before is what people will not want most. How long would I last and how much pain would it be to have the intestine pulled out inch by inch. It was something that needed to be said, but with Valon being on a roll, he felt it best to go about things this way.

Tarisyn was next to spout out an opinion. Shamus chewed on his lip a bit as he listened to her. She was a weird one. He had never really talked to her before or if he had, it had not been much. But something screamed out to him. He rolled his shoulders with a bit of a shrug, it was probably because he had yet to get to know her. That was the most logical reason he was deciding to go with. Once more his mind reached out to Elizabeth's, She has a point as well. I think it would be more prudent to allow their illegal activities to go on inside our businesses. It would promote us as well as them. Supplying weapons to them through businesses would be a great effort, but we should also cut off other rivals in order to give a better hand. Advertise to the public and get everyone on our side.

He quirked a bit of a grin that only held to one side. It was more than likely his turn to speak, but Shamus would bow out to let Elizabeth speak more. This was, as it were, her party. He cackled a bit and turned to look at the on goings below once more. His mind did reach out to Elizabeth's once more, It would be best to set up teams. Those with the know how should hack the systems of rivals and destroy them financially. Those with strong business ties should annex all rivals from their location, crippling them for their need of weapons and other things. Those that are strongly charismatic need to charm influential people within the community. Put the papers on our side as well as city officials. And those with the capabilities need to pick off members of rivals and make a statement about it. Get everyone to believe it is someone else on the surface so individuals are not scared of Crow, but a nightmare for rivals.

His hand slowly crept up to his chin and scratched at it gently. Shamus was beginning to analyze the potential variables and soon got himself lost in thought. There was the potential for greatness to be achieved, but there was also the epidemic of failure to be weary of. He began to bark with laughter, his head flying backwards, as he thought over the possibilities. It would be an interesting time, that is for sure. However, all of it hinged on how people could do their jobs and if they even wanted to do them. A small smile took over him as he looked innocently at everything below.

[Cosimo Alessi (DELETED 6612)]

Cosimo couldn’t claim to have been a vampire longer than six months. Looking around the room, those present - though some he had hardly seen at all - appeared far more experienced than he was. The group that Elizabeth spoke of - the Disciples of the Crow - was not one that Cosimo had heard of. This was a particular conversation that he hadn’t had the chance to have with his sire. The politics and the nuances of vampire life were numerous and complex; Elizabeth had not yet led Cosimo astray, however, and he was happy to follow her lead. If this was a cause that she wanted to put her support behind, then he would do all that he could to help her.

Rather than pull upon his past as a vampire, Cosimo instead thought about his life as a human. He and his father (and his father’s colleagues) had travelled the country. They had started small, conning and thieving from the smaller companies and the weaker families before they had worked their way up, learning all that they could to gain a foothold in the criminal underbelly of the larger Italian cities.

At least, that had been the plan. Unfortunately, Cosimo’s father had not had the smarts. He hadn’t read Machiavelli. He wasn’t good at chess. He was too impatient, too greedy. Too hasty. It got him killed, and in order to avoid the same fate, Cosimo had had to flee. It wasn’t too long after that, Elizabeth had found him. When he had hit rock bottom, when he had absolutely nothing, she’d picked him up out of the gutter and given him a new life. He owed this life to Elizabeth. He owed everything he had to Elizabeth. And if he had learned anything in his past to help her now, he would try his hardest to put it into practice.

As Shamus and Mora had entered after him, Cosimo nodded to them, but otherwise kept his attention upon the conversation, and the plans that were tentatively being made. The offer of violence, of lessons learned via torture and public displays, Cosimo did not flinch. Businesses were brought up, and with them, the supply of weapons. Cosimo nodded - he waited until the others had finished, before he quietly offered his own services.

”I have guns. They are not the best that they can be, but they are better than some. I can help in that department if you wish, Tarisyn. If we know who the Crow’s enemies are, I can target their businesses, also - I can thieve. I can break into their important businesses, I can try to hinder them by taking their resources to give the, instead, to the Disciples,” he said. Those were the only skills that he had at his disposal.

”Otherwise… I am not as experience as you all are, I do not think. But I am at your disposal, in whatever way is necessary,” he said. Anything for his sire.