Path of the Vampire forum

[for_peace][/for_peace]

“Mircea, we have received an electronic message.”

It was no longer a common utterance for either the witch or her Mircea, given their rediscovered love of travel and intermittent absences over the last several years, but ever since their return in late November, things had changed drastically. Between the humans and their distrust and their methods of soothing it, to the plague now descended upon them and the risk that Mircea - even immortal and undead as he was- could still contract such an illness, they tended to stay within their own walls more often than not of late. Asia had been invaluable in helping them catch up, but with everything occurring, seemingly all at one time, even her beloved shops were mostly shut down. Save for a few hand-picked events that drew no or little notice from the authorities, a skeleton crew had worked out internet ordering to work with new rules for the mortals and Habren had found herself with somewhat idle hands indeed. So the pinging of a new e-mail had her perking up and checking it without delay.

But the contents... well. That was interesting indeed. The sender was known to them both - one of Pratt’s consorts - but too much time had gone by to maintain prior judgments, in Habren’s estimation. And besides, she had a decent idea, if they could manage to keep the governmental types off their trail. So far, Habren and Mircea had avoided detection. Things were not quite like they had been before the first Holocaust - in some ways, they were easier and in others, far more difficult - but they still knew an old trick or two and had utilized them well.

“Ms. Llewellyn has requested our company this evening. It seems she is working on this... new issue we face. What say you to a little... outing?”

Mircea stirred a little more from his thoughts at that; it had been a long time indeed since they had gone to any kind of substantial gathering in the city and one organised by the Llewellyn woman had him instinctively suspicious of motivations and intentions. However… These were difficult and dangerous times for all of their kind and Habren had said that she was trying to seek a solution to their current predicament. It may be worth venturing back into society for an evening if some good could come of it as a result.

“If you believe her intentions to be good, my love, it may be good to… Ah, mingle,” he agreed with a faint smirk. In all his years Mircea had never been what one could call a social butterfly, much preferring privacy or small gatherings to parties or the like, but he knew enough of polite society to blend in well enough most of the time. “How should we travel?” He added; it wasn’t so easy any longer to simply walk through the city from one place to another now that vampires were supposed to be identified and identifiable and, as such, most journeys beyond their home required at least a degree of prior planning and forethought. If this was to be a meeting of the minds, as it were, he could only hope that the appropriate amount had gone into how to keep them all safe in a single location. Were he a hunter or allied with them, a gathering like this would be a beacon too tempting to pass up should they become aware of it.

Every step outside the front door seemed to bring with it an alarming amount of risk these nights, but that was always the way when at war, whether a hot or cold one.

“I do. She wants to find a solution, as we all do, it would seem. She has planned for a spell of safety, Eirene’s Will, I expect, to be cast ahead of time, at the art gallery. It is not so far that we should need to take great pains for our traveling. On foot should be fine.” The gallery was only a short walk from both the homes they utilized at Alpha Towers and Cedar Court, so she was quite confident they could make it there without too much issue, if any, and still switch up their home for the coming daytime hours as they ever did. She stood then, moving to wrap her arms around him with a soft smile in response to the smirk. Public gatherings weren’t either of their cups of tea, exactly, but this was one exception she was certain they could make. Habren for one, was quite tired of the way things currently stood and longed for the open freedom they had enjoyed for nearly a decade. They were not so far gone that a solution could not yet be found, in her opinion, and she had certainly told him as much.

[for_peace][/for_peace]

He had often wondered in the years lost to the shadow realm, where he could do naught but think, whether there might have been something that could have been done in the years running up to the first Holocaust that might have steered history in another direction. He doubted it, the world then was intent upon destroying anything that it perceived as even a little different. The Age of Enlightenment, indeed. He had long thought that those thoughts would never be more than that, the musings of a mind fighting against madness, but it seemed that, now, they had a chance to test the theory and discover, once and for all, whether or not vampires could convince humans of their… humanity, he supposed. He pressed a kiss to Habren’s hair as he considered this and nodded, as much to himself as anything; they had a responsibility, he thought, to try and right whatever wrongs had been done before and save those vampires who now called Harper Rock - and perhaps those throughout the rest of the world at this point - from the damnation that they had suffered. Who was to say, after all, that they would forever be able to return through the rift in the veil.

“A walk then,” he agreed, begrudgingly disentangling the eternally young couple to shrug into a long leather coat and set a well worn hat on his head. If the gallery had a dress code at all, he doubted worn jeans, boots and a shirt would agree with it, but with so little notice given, he wasn’t about to dress for the occasion. “Shall we, my love?” He asked, one hand on the door handle and the other held out towards the woman he would burn the earth to ashes to save.

Habren took the offered arm with such a well-practiced ease it might had been considered inevitable. A smile settled upon her lips; no matter how many years, nor what obstacles stood in their way at present, such small, simple gestures stood out in her mind as the eternal, entirely comforting and thrilling norm they ever were. Tiny things, slight changes in body language or the subtleties of the energy surrounding them, were enough to have her longing to stay inside instead and take full advantage of their close quarters, but the issues at hand were pressing and, perhaps, taking slight precedence.

“As ever, my Love,” she agreed with a slow grin that spoke all manner of things, silent words only he would decipher as they headed out the door and into the eerily silent night, to see what was to be seen just a block or two away.

As short a walk as it was from their home to the gallery, with the air still thick with tension, discarded newspapers detailing the restrictions being placed upon their kind and the innate suspicion bound to be placed upon anybody wandering the streets after dark during both the current worldwide pandemic and the reported threat posed by all of vampire kind, it was still to be a careful one. The pair were practiced enough at moving through city streets unnoticed or written off as naught but a young couple in the first throes of attraction, and were it not for the virus, that would have been an easy act to carry off, but being so brazenly romantic when physical contact was being so heavily discouraged seemed somehow reckless. And so, in a most untypical manner, the couple walked, arm in arm, to the door of the gallery. “I do suppose we should find the host,” he murmured with what might have been the slightest hint of displeasure. He wasn’t, generally speaking, the most forgiving of individuals and there was a lot of water under any bridge involving Robert Pratt already.

“I agree,” was all she murmured. “Ready?” Their linked arms had not yet separated and nor was she so inclined as they made their way through at his nod. Even in the most uncertain of times, the gallery was adorned with all sorts of works, some more lost on them than others, to be sure. But art as ever was a constant and one she was fond of in all its forms. Still, they could not be fully appreciated under the circumstances and, instead, she guided them over to the woman she remembered meeting several years ago.

“Ah, Ms. Llewellyn. A pleasure to meet with you again,” she murmured in her sweet, musically accented tone as they arrived before the hostess. Truly they had never seen eye-to-eye on many a topic, but where survival for all concerned was the hot topic, the witch was certain they would all be on much the same page.

[for_peace][/for_peace]

If life were a game, Claude Lambert might have compared it to a Rube Goldberg machine rather than a round of chess. Of course, there was a level of strategy to acknowledge in the set up nevertheless and one had to have the precision, discipline, and determination to succeed in life. It was clear to him that actions rippled across time and space, and rather like setting up a line of dominoes, Claude had to align his plans in the right order to have them land just right even for what one might consider the most simplest of tasks. The German felt very much in his element again, not unlike the times he had been running the family businesses back in Hamburg, and yet, there was much that set these enterprises apart. Perhaps the worst part was his lack of connections in this world, which was why he had chosen to invite himself to the meeting tonight.

The Blood Thief dressed in what he considered appropriate attire for such an event: a navy Ralph Lauren Purple Label suit with a black t-shirt underneath that well-crafted jacket. The look was business-casual, of course. The crew neck t-shirt was tucked into his trousers to give a clean, polished finish. The ensemble was paired with black leather loafers and an A. Lange & Sohne watch. His pompadour hair was swept up and back over the head in a wave of chestnut, gold, and oak-rich hues. With a spritz or two of his favourite cologne - the kind that spiced his supernaturally mortal scent with star anise, olive blossom, and cedar wood - the German was almost ready. Finally, since the intention was to make as good an impression as possible on as many people as possible, Claude had cast a small luck spell*.

It was a short walk to the Modern Art Gallery, yet the tension was as thick as the night air was cold. It crystalised in his lungs, but wouldn’t stiffen his gait even a little. Those golden orbs of his flickered left and right, watching as the officers made their patrol of the area. He dismissed them as he pulled open the door, but the tension had yet to leave his thoughts even as those doors swung closed behind him. It was only as he moved into the room, began to inspect the people there - sharing a pleasant smile with anyone who met his gaze - that the ice in his veins began to thaw. It was practically tropical by the time he passed by the assortment of refreshments on offer; his attention lingering. As few Vampires could consume mortal food or beverages, the German had to assume that the effort had been made for show or relations; their presence helped to camouflage the decanter of blood after all.

Claude inspected the chairs with a cant of his head, the labels making him quirk a brow as he held a stoic look. If asked to be seated, he would choose to sit in the designated area of course, but he wasn’t looking forward to the prospect. His heritage didn’t have the best track record when it came to segregation. Claude’s spirit dampened momentarily, like clouds passing over a summer sky; his brow furrowed and his lips formed a line. He returned a look to the liquor bottles and decided to apply a little camouflage of his own, pouring a glass of vodka over ice. Swirling the glass so that the ice cubes clinked against the sides, the Blood Thief moved toward the wall beside the table of refreshments.

From his new vantage point, he found himself staring at a young man with a mask covering the lower half of his face. For a moment, Claude considered it a fool’s bid to conceal their identity in a room filled with Vampires and other supernaturals, until a spark of recognition lit behind his eyes. Claude took a sip of his drink, feeling the keen burn on his tongue and throat. It turned down the volume on his thoughts, steadied him, but only for a flash. Golden eyes looked past the mask-wearing man to another, unmasked one, and then to the women at the opposite end of the hall. She, like him, had a drink in her hand and was analysing the crowd, but there was something about her demeanour that suggested that this was the last place on the planet that she wanted to be. Claude pulled his gaze away from her with a wry grin and sought out the remaining guests; two groups of three, a pair of men, and then one more lone female in the room. It was still early in the night, the event hadn’t started, and yet the numbers were impressive enough. It was only a matter of time now.

*Roleplay Power: Arcanist - You can`t do any real magic, but you know how to perform certain (demifae unrelated) rituals and spells which can have slight effects.

[for_peace][/for_peace]

The redhead had paused for just a moment inside the lobby before following the subtle sounds coming from one of the nearby galleries. She hoped she wasn’t too early but from the look of the room that caught her attention, she dared think not. Her first look at the room was met with a slight nod of approval as she took in the placement of the chairs which she assumed were the recommended six feet apart. It was refreshing to see that the hostess had thought ahead with such precautions.

The sound of heels approaching drew the blood thief’s attention to the well-dressed vampire she assumed was Lizzie. At the woman’s words, she relaxed slightly as her instinct was proven correct. ”Good Evening. It was my pleasure to be able to contribute such a protection to this worthy venture. I only hope that it is fruitful. I am doing well.” She shifted the box in her arms slightly, ”I hope you don’t mind I brought some cloth masks my company is making for people to take, if they like?” It was a small gesture but it was something she felt would be a relevant gesture of goodwill, even if most weren’t likely to actually get the virus.

Muffled sounds of voices and footfalls barely reached the human’s ears before the woman in front of her gasped. As there were no gunshots or sounds of bodies falling, and no violence would be permitted inside anyway, Amalea was content to wait for the new arrivals to join them in the gallery proper. The sound of the footsteps upon the hardwood were quite distinctive and could have only belonged to a woman. It wasn’t until the mystery woman drew closer that the redhead’s lips tugged into a small smile. While the sound of heels could be attributed to a woman, the scent she caught in the air could only belong to one.

Deciding to allow the shadow her fun rather than spoil her approach, the blood thief pretended she wasn’t aware of the other’s presence. At least until Every’s breath lightly ruffled her hair which tickled and she couldn’t help but giggle softly. ”Boo, yourself,” she replied lightly. As their hostess greeted the woman, the human dug into the box she still held. It was only after Lizzie walked off to see the other guests that Amalea turned around. ”Here,” she spoke softly as she held out the only black mask in the bunch, keeping the other she removed for herself. ”You look good, though now I feel like I’m underdressed,” she laughed softly while adding telepathically, You look much better than I expected after your warning earlier.

The box was handed to a passing employee so Amalea could turn her attention fully to the shadow. ”I’m hoping this goes better than past ones.” She spoke softly as her eyes roamed the area looking for familiar faces and potential trouble. Most she did not, save for Mike who brought the total of humans present to at least two, though she was fairly certain there were three. An eyebrow raised slightly as she overheard Lizzie telling people about refreshments and getting seated as they’d be starting shortly. She really hoped there would be more attendees before that occurred.

”Did you want to grab any refreshments before we find seats?” she inquired of her friend. Of course, she knew, if anything, blood would likely be Eve’s drink of choice, but she found that to be an awkward question in mixed company. Switching to telepathic for a moment, she posed another question. Do you have an EM emitter on you? There was no further comment from the redhead as she knew the other would understand.

The arrival of Sullivan taking up residence precariously close to the shadow as he complimented her drew a raised eyebrow from the blood thief. Coupled with the way he looked at Every, the redhead had to wonder if perhaps she had missed some memo that they were a couple. The very thought caused her nose to twitch and she made a mental note to kidnap the vampire for a girl’s night rather soon. His question to her drew her attention back to the present, ”Hey. Just your typical city-wide meeting to address current non-pandemic issues.”

[for_peace][/for_peace]

More and more people were arriving and it made Lizzie smile as it was a decent turn out. Yes, she probably had to many chairs set out but she did send a global invite to the city for anyone to attend. To her it was better be prepared for more than less and everyone just stand around which would prevent the option of social distancing that many were worried about. She forgot to take into consideration that some vampires had a weakness to toxins and hoped that they would sit in a middle vampire chair or a human chair to help better protect themselves but if not many showed up, there was plenty of seating to consider for social distancing and the microphone would definitely assist in reaching anyone that prefered to sit towards the back. It was when she noticed a man enter and make his way towards Amalea and Every that made her skin crawl. She could vaguely see the tattoos on his neck became very aware of what he was and Lizzie was more than grateful that she had asked for the ritual to be performed as with her past with Paladins...she typically found herself dead outside of Tytonidae.

Turning back towards the door as more entered, she smiled as her eye caught Mircea and Habren closing the distance between them. They came and thatgave her hope that maybe they could make a difference in the city. She was even more relieved that they came because it meant that they didn't hold past actions over her head because many of their sit downs prior were over events that caught her and them up in scandals because of Robert Pratt who was a member of the Grigori bloodline. Lizzie was an elegant woman and wished that her efforts were more elegant in the past but with Robert's influence...there wasn't much elegance that went with any of those actions but a slap in the face to the entire community. She was free of that hold and was taking matters by a different approach. Yes the city knew about vampires but not how she liked and still not in a peaceful coexistence that she had hoped for. Now was a time for change and no matter what her views were on cohabitation...her kind being treated like disobiedent dogs was frowned upon even by her. "Good evening, Mircea and Habren. The pleasure is all mine and thank you for coming. I know we have not had the best past encounters but I would like to change that. I am no longer under the foul guidance of Robert and I do truly apologize for many of the situations that he conned me into that effected you. Please get comfortable. I do have blood as refreshments unless you are able to keep down human beverages, then I have those as well."

Lizzie had noticed that Molly had come back down to check on everything before she retired for the evening as she had taken the box of cloth masks from Amalea who was so kind to bring them. As she walked through the gallery with then, she nodded and pointed to the drink table as that was as good a place as any to put them. Molly had shook her head as she grabbed set the box down for a second and took a potted plant off of a stand to set it upon the floor. Taking the stand, she moved over to the door and placed the box of masks upon it so that patrons could grab the masks as they entered. Chuckling to herself as Molly was able to provide the benefits of human caution better than Lizzie every could. Molly was the best and she was grateful that she was hers because she could have gotten someone that would work against her or at least argue with her as she gave them a task. Her choice in husbands gave her enough of a headache that she didn't need it from those that worked for her enthralled or not.

Watching as people grabbed their refreshments and made a decision where to sit, she decided that now was as good a time to get the meeting started than any. If people arrived after they started, that was welcome as everyone needed the chance to help or voice their concerns. Turning around only for a child to dash across the room and wrap their arms around her legs, she froze and looked around before she picked up the beautifully ginger headed girl that could look like her own daughter if she was old enough but being six, she was shy three years from her turning but was just as much as her own daughter even though she was adopted.

"Princess, I told you to stay upstairs. There are people here that could hurt you. I love you but you cannot trust everyone."

"But Mommy, they are here to help..."

"Yes but you are a different dynamic and they can use that, I need you to go upstairs."

Chelsea looked around before she beamed. "But Antonio is here. Can I sit with him?"

"No Ma'am, it is close to your bedtime and this is an adult meeting. You can spend time with him later. Now off you go." Lizzie placed her back on the ground and gave a stern look at Molly as she rushed over to grab Chelsea. The woman picked the little girl up so that she couldn't run off again and rushed to the back of the gallery to disappear into Lizzie's office to retreat to the residence above. Trying not to look terrified that her daughter just tried to expose their relationship to the entire community the would much rather use her to hurt Lizzie.

Straightening her suit jacket and checking for wrinkles that her daughter might have left as she began to walk with determination towards the stage. Thinking of calming thoughts as the click clack of her heels echoed off the walls. Stepping upon the stage, she stood in front of the microphone as she being to speak in a professional yet soft tone.

"Good evening and thank you for coming on such short notice. I am Elizabeth Llewellyn and I am your host this evening. If we can all have a seat, we can get started. As you can see, the chairs are labeled and not to segregate each other but as a form of social distancing to protect those of the virus. If you are a vampire that has a weakness to toxins and/or viruses, you can either sit in a human chair or between two vampires and there are cloth masks available that you may take with you when the evening comes to an end thanks to Amalea.”

There was a scarlet letter on her chest from years passed due to certain events that had banned her to her demises. She had hoped that one day she could prove that she was a much better person than they knew her to be. "I would like to start off that any events from the past that I had been apart of due to the whiles of one Robert Pratt, I would like to apologize for as many of those events were not my fashion. I would rather be more caressing about it. Now, I am still for humans and vampires being able to cohabitate together but not how the city is in this current state. We should be equals and not treated how we are. There is a crisis here and we need to see a positive change in this city because if we continue down the current path, I fear that we will come to a time that we are unable to reverse the effects.

"This meeting is for us all to come together and come up with a plan. What we can do, how we can do it, and how to do it. I am not sure how dangerously close we are to a new Holocaust but let us try and find away to reverse that option. This will take the work from both sides to reach a conclusion that we desperately seek. All are welcome to speak and if you desire to use the microphone, you are more than welcome to do so. Are there any volunteers that would like to get us started?"

The woman nodded to them as she took a step back. Yes she was leading the meeting but she didn't want to be the one to do all the talking or planning as the community needed to come together and work together to get the desired result. Everyone was going to get their chance to make their voices heard and try and make a difference. Or at least she hoped that they would make a difference.

Shirosame Hiroumi knew about the whispers behind his back. He knew that a lot of people thought he was crazy, for well, a lot of reasons actually, but many especially wondered about his relationship with the draconic Italian. They said he had a taste for suicide because he was usually the first person to walk into a burning building, or into a war, without a care in the world just because it was something he had to do. It was the mission. It was the nature of things, really. He had no means to question the order given by those granted the authority to give it. It was this very reason that caused the eyebrows to raise when Shiro - heir to the Yamaguchi-gumi of Kobe, Japan - had started taking his orders from some loud-mouthed capo in Boston. Fortunately, Shiro didn’t care that they didn’t understand and as time passed, there were fewer and fewer of his own Family to answer to until finally, there was no one to answer to at all. Now, all that he had was that obnoxious, smart-talking capo from Boston. And when the flames burned his bridges too, it seemed like all they had was each other.

Except they didn’t.
And they probably never would.

Levi D’Amico was as complicated as he was simple. There were days when he sat in his great throne of a chair and went through the motions of being a businessman; a criminal pretending to be legit. There were days when he was out on the hunt, cutting down beasts the likes of which Shiro could have only thought possible in folk tales. There were also days when his umber eyes glinted with intrigue as he considered the possibility of getting more intimately involved in the community he lived in, but Shiro saw that curiosity die and get buried with that same kind of snap-decision guilt and tortured rage he’d known young gangsters to express when they’d accidentally killed a man and had to bury the evidence. All Shiro could do was look on, not even offering a shovel, because that just highlighted the failure Levi was dealing with and refocused that unceasing rage in his direction. While Shiro was always willing and ready to entertain a good fight with the man, something about that particular battle tasted repugnant to him.

In truth, the Japanese man was still adjusting to the fact that Levi was a Vampire, even though he had known the truth for a number of years now. It was something that was difficult to ignore - his one remaining good eye being like some sort of testament to the notion. Shiro had meant to hate Levi for that act of pure narcissism, and maybe it was that power the Vampire had used on him, or maybe it wasn’t, but the Shark had to confess his own weakness. He didn’t have anything or anyone else besides this thing between them. It was a relationship he understood, it was a way of life he understood, even if he didn’t understand what exactly was going on in the Italian’s head.

---

“Oh good, another one,” the Italian had groused when he’d eyed the new missive on the CrowNet. “How y’all gonna fix this **** now, huh? Meet and greet is all well and good, but you fuckers don’t work beyond that, do ya.”

“What the **** are you complaining about now?” Shiro had asked, his face a storm.

“Nothing. Forget about it.”

Perhaps Levi hadn’t expected Shiro to hear him, or maybe he didn’t care, but the look of regret that was quickly clouded by anger and the quiet, terse voice he spoke with suggested to the Japanese man that Levi cared at least on some level. This had been fascinating enough to draw Shiro in and onto the edge of Levi’s desk, meeting the man’s furious gaze.

“Tell me.”

“Why?” Levi retorted, brows cocked like a pistol.

“Because I’m interested.”

“And I’m interested in you getting the **** out of my face, but it doesn’t look like I’m getting my way tonight either.”

Shiro smirked. “Well, I can fix that. Tell me what has you about as hospitable as a rabid honey badger and I’ll leave you to your own devices. Alright?”

Levi’s lips twisted between a frown and a smirk. “Fine.” The Italian leant back in his chair and held his hands in his lap, fingers laced like a prayer. “Seems there’s gonna be another meeting with the Vampiri tonight. Because if one **** head doesn’t have their say, it ain’t been said.”

Shiro sighed, though an amused smile betrayed his frustration. “So, you’re going?”

“Hell no.”

Levi had actually looked offended. As if someone - aside from himself - had just called his mother a whore.

“You went to the last one.”

“Exactly,” he said, gesturing to the air with a pointed finger. “And that went down great.”

“There’s never a second chance with you, huh.”

“Not never,” the Italian challenged. “But I genuinely don’t think I can be nice about how much I hate their lazy, good for nothing asses.”

“Levi, seriously. Is this worth you getting your panties in a twist?”

The Vampire glared at him and for a moment the lights in the room flickered. Shiro swallowed a breath and kept his pulse steady.

“The intel could be handy,” Shiro offered, but Levi simply growled at him. “But if you really don’t want to go yourself, we should have someone there.”

“Like who?”

“I’ll go,” Shiro said with a casual shrug.

Levi laughed. “Yeah, sure, Shiro. Like I’m gonna send ya into a room full of Vamps on your own with no back up.”

The Japanese man quirked a brow. “Meaning?”

Levi was quiet for a moment and Shiro scrutinised him. Their gazes clashed, Levi never even flinched to blink, which just made Shiro all the more suspicious.

“Fine. Go,” he groused, defeated. “But… Keep in touch. Call me if you need anything.”

Shiro smiled. “Good. Glad we came to this agreement.”

“Don’t push your luck, Jaws.”

Levi had given him one of those indecipherable looks again. It was one that Shiro figured meant that Levi wasn’t quite happy with an arrangement he’d made and was trying to decide which of his favourite responses - yell, brood, or break something - was most appropriate. Eventually, he just snorted and dismissed the Shark from his sights as he went back to work. And as far as Shiro was concerned, that was just fine.

---

This was how Shiro ended up at the Modern Art Gallery tonight.

He slipped inside the doors as the host made her announcement to begin the meeting. He’d dressed as black as the robes of Death; the stream-lined blazer, slacks, and poloneck made a long line of him. His footsteps echoed treacherously as he walked to the hall and between the first row of chairs that had been set out. Obsidian eyes crackled at the sight of the labelled pews just as she made the comment and he decided to sit at the back of the room, in a chair designated Human. There was no point in lying about it. He was certain that his heartbeat was as palpable to them as it was to him. Once settled, he composed a text to the Italian.I’m inside. There was a pause before the message was returned. Keep your head down. Shiro smiled and kept his focus on the woman at the front of the room.

Elsewhere:

Greetings,

I do hope this message finds you well. I have a simple request to meet with each of you. I would like to have a meeting with the minds of this great city that we have seemed to lose control over. We have a common goal to overturn these events that keep us from living our normal lives. Please meet tonight at the Gallery of Solace otherwise known as the Modern Art Gallery. It will be safe as a ritual would be performed to avoid violence. I hope to see you all this evening. We will meet when the sunsets.

Sincerely,
Elizabeth Constance Llewellyn

She sat in the semi darkness of her home and stared at the screen on her phone. Part of her was relived and quite happy Liz was up and around again. Recently it had been like some ancient bell had tolled and more of the vampires from her own time of being turned were waking up and answering the call.

But, a call to what?

‘Lose control?’ Did they ever have it? No. They were the invaders, as the gypsy saw it, and too many of her kind decided to treat this like a bad horror movie or like the wild west. Did those overheated morons expect the living just to cow and worship their new vampire overlords without a fight?

Not half their number. Not even a quarter of their kind, but enough had raged and rampaged with impunity to get that ball rolling along.

‘Normal lives?’ How did a child of the night define ‘normal’ anyway? ’Tonight I think I will go out and check the sales at the mall and while I am there I will rob and steal among the crowds, go do a few break ins afterwards and possibly ruin a business or two with my hacking. Then, grab a snack (and if the snack gives me too much trouble, they will find what’s left of them in the river or a dumpster) and possibly procreate while showing off the super cute shoes I got earlier BECAUSE I CAN!’

Madness. She was beginning to understand that concept nowadays. Madness.

She laid the phone down on the table as she considered. How many times did she warn others this would happen? Too many times, and when she spoke she was either mocked or ignored. It was a pattern that had followed her all of her life and into this stage between life and true death. Too many times she was forced to grit her teeth (or was it her fangs) as she watched them continue as they were and not considering what she had to say. It was fine, actually. Eventually all of this would catch up with them in the end, so she changed gears and focused on the few she cared for the most. If she could keep them safe, at least, she would be satisfied.

The real issue was, she was finding it harder to relate to her own kind anymore. Oh, brief periods of interaction usually went well, but the long and drawn out process not so much. Spread out on the table she was sitting at where several pages that held copies of readings she had done over the past few months. She was smart enough to know that a Seer was like a Doctor when it came to being their own client, so she kept these self readings she had done as general as possible and had spread them out to study them for patterns.

If her results were accurate, this situation others were hoping to find an answer for over tea and biscuits was going to get a lot worse before better even showed a hint of its shadow. Too many things in the darkness and the light were being drawn together with a common goal now, and they were far more organized than the night children ever could hope to be. Part of her screamed she should warn them.

But she doubted any would listen. They did not listen then, so why would they now? No, best to stay silent and away now. Let the ‘experts’ hash this one out. At least that was what the second voice in her head advised her to do. It was making some very sound suggestions lately.

’Go get em, Lizzie.’ she smiled at the phone before turning it off. Zodiac then returned her attentions back to her notes and the madness that was slowly swallowing her.

[for_peace][/for_peace]
Segreti glanced over as Ashwood asked made a comment to ask if he could enter as well, to which Segreti gave a nod. However they were more quickly followed by a woman who pushed them both out of the way with a comment on it being a public event, he shrugged stepping all the way in. "Well guess we're not waiting huh?" he said with a slight smile. "By the way, Antonio Segreti. Nice to meet you." he said removing his coat as he walked to hang it up on a rack, "Haven't been in Harper Rock long enough to quite know the etiquette on these things I suppose. Then again, circumstances are a bit different then what I usually do anyway."

Segreti would honestly have come here even if it weren't for the invitation, it was an art gallery. There was enjoyment to be found in art, it told stories. Even if you didn't find the art itself appealing. It told you not just about the person, but the person displaying the art. The people who pay or enter to see it. There was more to a painting then a beautiful image.

Antonion nodded with a friendly smile as he saw Elizabeth "Good to see you again! Though perhaps I'll avoid too much hand shaking today, I'm not super worried about the virus. But, with as many people as there are here, just too much chance someone has it and doesn't know it. Wouldn't want to give it to a co-worker doing paperwork." he said very apologetically. There was something spreading. And while he imagined most people in this building were not of the average sort, it didn't mean they couldn't spread it. And while he doubted he himself was in danger of getting it either, their was no need for him to risk spreading it to someone else.

Unfortunately, she had other things to do for now. She was busy, there were plenty of people here, plenty of organizing. And some people doubtless were going to be far more important than he could be.

He glanced at the chairs, noticing the human/vampire chairs and raising his eyebrows, "Oh boy, well, today is one of discovery." he said shaking his head, "Better not get any unexpected visitors." he joked.

He glanced and noticed the adopted child of Elizabeth running around. That had to make him chuckle. He'd met the girl in his first meeting with the vampire. A conversation that started out as a matter of funding, and then turned into a dialogue about vampire and human relations. That was a rather unexpected, but very fascinating day. Though the girl would have to go away apparently. A good idea.

He noticed that Elizabeth went to the stage and began to speak. Just a little bit about herself, but also offering the microphone up to others. He considered this for a long moment, uncertain if he should raise his hand or not. He let out a long sigh. In truth, Segreti liked speeches. But not his speeches. He liked plays and theatre, he liked it when he was reciting words of a poem or a book. But to just come up and talk was a little different. It wasn't nervousness, he just didn't always want to do it. Nevertheless, he held up a hand, just a sort of wave to show that if he was permitted he'd be willing. But if someone else made it there first, he had no issue not going as of yet.

Ashwood and Segreti had split up after their greetings and hanging up of coats. Now he walked into the gallery, carefully placing his cane to minimize its tapping sound. He looked over the many others who had filtered into the bright and beautiful filled room. The masks were a wise choice, but he declined to pick one for himself as of yet.

Ashwood made a mental note to return here in the future. The hints he caught of the artwork told him it would be an enjoyable evening. He moved to the second row of chairs and settled into a seat marked vampire. Rolling the smooth blue orb spun under his fingers as he waited, watching the room. Ashwood hoped that here in this room was someone with the vision to help vampires return to personhood. His eyes moved carefully over the group. No lack of power or wealth was in the room. He could see it in fabric, items and action. It made his wonder how others saw him. He stroked his chin between thumb and forefinger as he watched with a half-amused smile on his lips.

The others who arrived seemed to lean towards the well-dressed side of things. But the shades of that, and even those who dressed far more simply helped make the room a little more balanced. When the host of the evening stood up and started the evening Ashwood sat up and listened with careful attention.

It was a good opening, an acknowledgment of past wrongs and a heartfelt plea to the group to focus not on her, but on how to move forward. Ashwood found himself nodding at points in her simple opening. She stepped back and opening the floor. And no one moved. For several long minutes, everyone just stared. Ashwood had to imagine that Ms. Llewellyn felt very alone up at the front. He closed his eyes for a long blink. Then he got to his feet.

No longer keeping the cane quiet he moved with simple but sure steps to the front of the stage. His footsteps and the offset tap of his cane marking his passage. “Thank you for your time and for hosting this,” Ashwood spoke quietly to Ms. Llewellyn as he stepped up beside her at the microphone. "a lovely evening, let us hope it lasts." He added with a soft smile and a bit of humor. Then he leaned in and began to speak.

“Only two people can speak the unvarnished truth. Children and those with nothing to lose. Looking around her this evening, it appears I am in the second camp, or possibly both.

I have a couple of points I would like to visit. The first of which is a reason for our existence. The outside world needs one. Right now, the message seems to be that we are not worth keeping around. So, let us change that. Self-motivation is one of the stronger forces, so let us use that. If you own a business, then you know appealing to your supplier's own self-motivation is more likely to get you what you want. And that is what we need to tap into. Vampire business keeps people employed. The message is that we drain from all. We need to be reminding everyone that we fund so many things through our actions and our buying power. We need to be, gently, reminding people of that. This also means we need people to approach the local governments, as well as the Premier and his cabinet. Since I lack anything like a business, I will leave it to those who do. That is the first plan of action, I leave it to you to speak over.

My second point is about zombies and fae. If we are the best to fight them, let us advertise this fact. Buy a billboard and a phone number. Gather up a hunting group and let the people who are afraid tell us what they fear. All of us are motivated by fear. By sharing that fear of the fae with the regular folk, let us stand up and work with them. Let them see that we are still persons and can be spoken with, treated with, and given fairness. And this action helped us also. When we make ourselves the ones willing to step us and be a defense, we demand our own respect through our actions. It shows that even if we are treated a non-person, we still are willing to shoulder the responsibilities of persons. That we can use a point later on in the talks to show why we should once again have personhood returned to us.

Both points are towards a single goal. Personhood. Unless we use them, in some form or another plus others more we will gain nothing and only slid deeper into this pit we find ourselves in.”

Ashwood finished his speech and bowed once more to the group and his host before moving back to his seat. He’d spoken what he felt needed to. Now it was time to watch the reactions. He hoped that his words had struck the right balance between question and call to action.