A Liberal Step Forward [Open]

[Lancaster]

Wearing

The Sanctuary, as it was now called, had undergone several changes over the past few years. To begin with, it was only a small office that Lancaster came to find Pi within, every now and again. An office that was soon abandoned and left to the dust. Now, that small office had been expanded upon – expanded out, expanded up, and expanded down. Up, apartments for whoever wanted them. Down, apartments for those who were new to this life, and who had nowhere else to go. At least, that’s how Lancaster saw it.

The Sanctuary, as it was now, was a brainchild of Pi’s. Where Lancaster had spent his time at the pub or at any other of his small businesses, Pi had been channelling her energy into this behemoth of good will. They came together every night, keeping each other updated on the other’s lives. Lancaster was happy, that Pi was no longer in her funk; having been rejected by a faction that she had so wished to become a part of, she had lost her goal and was lacking a path. Of course, Lancaster was happy about said rejection; this outcome was far preferable.

The time the Australian had spent in the Shadow Realm was not a time that he wanted to remember. However, he had had a lot of time to think. And although he loathed Doc, with all that he was worth, he realised that the man had at least one point. Lancaster had a lot to say about the things that he believed in, but what had he done thus far to back up those opinions? Nothing.

But now, here was this. This, and a new childe that shared Lancaster’s sentiments. A new childe who reminded Lancaster that, as the immortal, they have powers and abilities that could be used for good. Lancaster did not agree with the way the vampiric populace was slaughtered on Tytonidae’s whim; he was but just one man, and he could not take on an entire bloodthirsty faction on his own. But he could do this, couldn’t he? He could snatch those from them, that they wished to slaughter. He could turn their minds to good, could teach them that their violence could be controlled. And he could hope for the best.

He stood at the desk, now clean and sparkling and bereft of dust. It was unusual to be standing behind such a quiet desk. He leaned forward, long fingers caressing the dark wood. This was the lobby, but it led to other sections of the establishment which could be used for the training of fledglings. He hoped that, in time, this place would be as busy as the pub; people coming and going. Happy as they can be in their new lives, rather than lost to the darkness.

Lancaster cleared his throat and pulled up a new screen on the computer. The place can only be busy, if people know about it. They had to start somewhere, to advertise their endeavour. His fingers were hesitant as they hovered over the keyboard. The public Crow was not a place he was wont to go. But, for this, it seemed necessary. His fingers touched the keys, and he began to type.

[Sia (DELETED 7173)]

Sia, luckily had been finding her way nicely around Harper Rock. It wasn’t new to her like she imagined it would be for a lot of people, but now she was really beginning to explore the city. Before she would have to worry about getting attacked by the freaks coming out at night; now she could happily go about knowing she could at least defend herself, from humans at least and a couple zombies here or there. She seen everything in a whole new light and she had to admit…she loved it. It was liberating to feel this free, she felt as though she could really make a change now, with her knowledge and thirst for revival. The city seemed to be at odds in the vampire community and just like in regular society she couldn’t understand the lack of unity, especially when their kind weren’t in abundance.

Friday was always busy on campus, people getting ready to go out, or those types of people that buried their noses in books the entire weekend. The later was usually her, but tonight she decided to take a different approach to the weekend. Lancaster had been so good to her and she owed it to him to help him through this sort of “awakening” stage in his life. Sia always took a positive approach to life, even when back home in living conditions that were less than desirable. There was always a smile on her face and a song in her heart, always a pleasure to be around. So in this new lifestyle where so many negative things could be observed, it was her full intention of doing her best to turn that around.

Lancaster had told her about The Sanctuary, and of course it peeked her interest. Any time to help someone was a good time for her. So it was no wonder that she volunteered freely, wanting to give to her new people as much as she could. The city really seemed to need it currently as well. Tonight that’s where she would go and hopefully make some progress in the right direction. It wasn’t far from campus so she had no issues walking over. The weather was changing and she could feel the change in the human atmosphere as well. People just weren’t as happy the colder it got. Seasonal depression was what they called it. The cold came and people got rather angry and cranky. South was where they all suggested, though so rarely did anyone make it. She had spent her whole life in the heat, this was very welcomed.

Sia finally reached the sanctuary and let herself in. Hopefully she hadn’t walked for nothing and at least find someone there. This was an all new endeavor for them and she could feel change in the air; it would all start with the right training for the newcomers.

“Lancaster,” she called out in that delicately smooth, low toned voice. “It is just me, Sia,” she smiled and made her way to where she thought the office may be. That is exactly where she found him too.

“Ahh, hello there,” her smile was even brighter as she seen his familiar yet oddly stressed face. “What have we today?”

[Lancaster]

The advertisement took him about half an hour to write; not because it was overly difficult, but because he found it hard to be professional, sometimes. It was hard to be succinct and to the point when all he wanted to be was friendly and affable. As if he were familiar with the entire world, and everybody who lived in it was his friend. Even despite all that he had been through, no one could completely banish that part of the musician; the part that wanted to know everyone, and hear every side of every single story that was ever told. The words that he typed came out, to begin with, too long. Too poetic. Too much like a song. He had to scale back, re-write, keep the songs for later.

Once or twice he heard the front doors open and close. People who lived in the apartments above and below coming and going. Faces that he didn’t recognise, but which he smiled at anyway, his attention drifting from the screen of his computer, only to have to re-focus and re-read when he turned his attention back to it.

It was just as he heard the familiar voice that he hit the ‘post’ button. The advertisement looking for both mentors and seeking fledglings in need of aid was now open to public scrutiny. Though he did wonder how much attention it would get. It wasn’t within Lancaster’s nature to be cynical, but over time it had grown. Frankly, he did not believe that there were many in this city who cared enough to want to help. And if fledglings had been abandoned, what was there to say that they knew how to find the Crow, anyway? That part of the internet persevered mainly for the use of vampire-kind.

Lancaster leaned back in the chair and gave Sia a small wave. She didn’t have to tell him who it was; he recognised the voice, the accent.

”Evening, Sia,” he said, nodding in greeting. There was an easy smile spread across his lips. ”Just thinking. Wondering how we can spread word about our endeavour. There’s no point to it if we have no one to help. And what if we get inundated, but there’s no one willing to help?” he asked, voicing his concerns out loud. It might do good to have another opinion; another set of eyes gazing at the problem.

[Myk]

This city had been stagnant for too long, its residents gathering dust as they refused to remove themselves from their little ruts and the excuses that justified their ways of life. Myk too had been so stagnant and so quiet for so long that, together, he and the rest of his kind could easily have made a museum of Harper Rock. But then pewter eyes – set like buttons on a cloth doll’s face – found a twinkle of life in them again when a provocative message, posted on the CrowNet, was brought to his attention.

The CrowNet could always be relied upon for a good dose of cynicism, for plenty of reasons to give up on his kind. Myk would ordinarily read the happenings, have an opinion, but not express it. With his new found anonymity, however, Myk felt more assured to share his opinion, or rather, ask his questions. The Telepath always had questions. He was the curious sort, ever hunting after the unknowns in an attempt to unravel them and see how they worked. Becoming a Vampire had opened him up to many more questions, and he was relieved to discover that his hobby of studying people would become ever more enchanting when studying Vampires.

The variety of people that Harper Rock gathered created the perfect test environment for the Telepath and yet, with the passing years, Myk found that his test subjects were amalgamating into just one type: violent sociopaths. Power and unaccountability had created chaos, had driven once regular and law-abiding Human beings to become monsters just because they had found teeth and claws with which to scratch and bite. Give a man a weapon and he feels obliged to use it. Put him in a room with others and they will undoubtedly use those weapons upon each other. Such was nature, Myk supposed. Still, the irony amused him. Man thought himself so evolved, but he was no better than a virus – colonising and destroying and dominating the world he lived in.

Tytonidae were very much like a virus. Harper Rock was now crawling with informants, individuals ready to end the life of another for a crime that was both based upon opinion and pretty much an impossibility to avoid. Tytonidae proposed to prevent a holocaust with one of their own and Myk couldn’t understand the sense in that. Besides, what did murdering an immortal Vampire – sending them for a week’s vacation to the Shadow Realm – ever do for the Masquerade? Did it erase the minds of those Humans who knew too much? Create a flash of amnesia that struck the city of Harper Rock? And what did hostility ever do but breed contempt and bitterness anyway? If Tytonidae’s cause was truly to protect the Masquerade – which Myk rather doubted and suspected was merely a convenient umbrella to shelter their savagery – then their solutions were flawed from the get-go.

Myk had questioned Tytonidae openly on the CrowNet that night until he became bored of the carousel of lies, the belligerent cherry-picking and mud-slinging. It was mission impossible: to seek truth and logic and reason from liars, cowards and murderers. The fact of the matter was that these people were Devils dressed as Saviours and they were everywhere, either because their ranks were stupid enough to believe that bullying others into submission was justified by the end results – of which were not proven – or because they just needed an outlet for their violent tendencies while feeling like righteous heroes. Myk suspected that Tytonidae grew in numbers most rapidly because a lot of people preferred to be the kicker, rather than the one being kicked. The cowardice was sickening. The laziness was frightful. The ignorance was frustrating. These people needed to be educated.

Myk brushed his hand through his hair as he considered the news updating on the CrowNet tonight, though quickly got distracted. His hair had been so long and white for such a while; when he used to brush his hand through its lengths, he would struggle to reach the end. Now, his hand passed through his hair with such speed; it was a shock when the slide of silk suddenly pulled away from his grasp. Stranger still was the colour of it – so natural looking, so ordinary. Where bone-white tresses once poured to his hips, tendrils of ink now danced around the shell of his ears. Myk ignored the laptop on the table before him as he combed his fingers through the mass of black locks and tried to inspect it. The change had been so startling and yet, no one had questioned it. While Myk found that fact rather disconcerting, he failed to linger on it. Frankly, he wasn’t going to waste his time on trying to figure out why and chalked it up to inconsideration – it was quicker that way. On the subject of inconsideration, the Wraith, Rutherford, had yet to really leave the Telepath’s side. Even out in the open like they were – perched at a table in the Moonlight Lotus Café – the Wraith cared not for any sort of secrecy.

“Sanctuary…” the Wraith murmured.

Myk frowned and looked over his shoulder – his hand still very much entangled in his short hair. “What are you talking about? What Sanctuary?”

“Your machine. It shows the word. Why does it do that?”

That frown hadn’t lifted from the Telepath’s brow; confusion had him in a head-lock and wouldn’t let him go. Dropping his hand from his hair, Myk stared at the laptop’s screen searching for the word which Rutherford was so focused on. Second from the top, there it was, one word: Sanctuary.

“Why are you asking?” the Telepath countered.

Rutherford sighed.

Myk sighed too, but then clicked the button to open the page. Pewter eyes scanned the surface of the message, starting off bored and gradually becoming intrigued. So there was an organisation out there offering sanctuary and education to starting Vampires. That was interesting indeed. Myk couldn’t say for certain that this proposition had resulted directly from the incident that Myk had gotten himself involved in, but the possibility was too great to ignore. The correlation of events was certainly something that had the Telepath’s interests piqued, but it was the offer of a purpose that really struck a chord. Myk pulled a hand to his chin, staring at the contact details left behind with some serious consideration.

“I think I should do something with this…”

“Whatever could you do, young one?”

“I’m not sure yet…”

“And upon which side of the fence would you stand? Fledgling or mentor?”

Myk barely noticed the confused stares being cast his way by other customers. Pewter eyes glared so feverously at the words in front of him that he barely even remembered that he was out in public. Carelessness such as this should have been the first red flag to deter the Telepath from what he was about to do, but passion had him driving to succeed.

“Be quiet a moment, I need to make a phone call…”

“Why not simply go in person? It is but a short walk from here.”

Myk stilled, stiffened even. “That seems rude. Shouldn’t I make an appointment first?”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m going to call…”

The Telepath took the mobile phone out of his pocket and proceeded to dial the number on the advert. Of course the laptop and the phone were somewhat redundant with his Technokinetic abilities, but somehow having them made him feel a little more… normal and certainly less confused. It was sometimes difficult to concentrate his psychic energies on maintaining a conversation over the phone waves and hell, even using the internet was easier on a laptop. Myk’s mind worked at a million thoughts per second and with his attention jumping from pillar to post, it was often chaos inside his head when connecting to external sources. Myk tried to keep his focus steady as the call was made, but listening to the chirrup of rings was making him nervous. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to speak by the time the call was answered…

[Stryge (DELETED 7204)]

As Stryge walked through the streets of Harper Rock, he felt a strange sense of Deja Vu. It certainly didn't hurt that his appearance was almost identical to what it had been on the day he had first stepped off the bus in Harper Rock those weeks ago. He had his black leather jacket on, hood up as usual, an old pair of jeans, and his Chucks. He even had the same trusty army surplus duffel bag slung over his shoulder. As he walked down the sidewalk, staying close to the walls of the buildings so that it was less obvious that the light from the street lamps projected no shadow behind him, the young vampire mused that the only difference between this walk and that first one he had taken through the streets of Harper Rock was the time of day. The sun had burned brightly on the morning he had first arrived in this strange city. However, he found morning was no longer a time of day that agreed with him.

Not that he missed it too much. He had always been a night owl, he mused, as his eyes followed the headlights of passing cars going by on the city street. Perhaps it had somehow influenced the nature of his change, into a creature that was in some ways part shadow itself. Though, in the early days after the transformation, he had come to memorize the path that the sunlight would take through his room at Bunk Backpackers, and would risk a severe burn by leaving the shades open and watching, in a dazed stupor from a darkened corner of the room, as the light crawled across the floor and walls like a relentless ghost.

He hadn't been in a terribly healthy state of mind at that point in his "unlife," still gripped by the suicidal needs that had plagued him prior to his turning, but with even less ability to do anything to satisfy them. Hate was a strong word, but he couldn't deny that it probably best described what he had felt at the time for his sire, the lovely Pi d'Artois. Thankfully things had changed since then. He had gotten his head straight. He had made peace with his sire, so much so that she had invited him not only into her "family" but into her faction as well, the Canidae d'Artois. He had felt a thrill no words could adequately describe on the day he was told that he had passed his interview. It was strange, this full circle that he had come through. The vampire he had once hated had now turned into an idol in his mind; it was not much of a stretch to say that in many ways Stryge worshiped Pi, almost as if she were some sort of angel descended from heaven. Perhaps it was not healthy; Stryge was self-aware enough to recognize the nagging doubt which crept through the back of his mind like a shadow itself. But it was better than the alternative; better than where his mind had been before. And so he found little reason to do anything other than revel in those feelings of adoration and acceptance.

Stryge could have easily used the tome that Pi had given him and the fadeportals she had shown him to arrive instantly to his destination. But he felt this walk was important, almost as if he were re-enacting his first day in Harper Rock in a way that would change the outcome of his journey here for the better. His duffel bag once again contained all of his earthly belongings, though some of the clothes had been replaced by newer outfits that he had pilfered. Membership has its privileges, he thought. Stuffed inside the duffel this time were also the weapons that Pi had given him, including the Fareye pistol. Stryge had gotten a fair amount of practice target shooting zombies in the Quarantine Zone, and felt he was on his way to becoming a halfway decent shot. The last thing he had squeezed on top before tying the sack shut was his tome, which in his case resembled nothing so much as a slim, leatherbound journal. He enjoyed his nightly walks, and this one had the added bonus of taking him to a new home, and a new chapter in his life. As he came within view of the Wickbridge Apartments, he noted that they were fairly nondescript. Which he presumed would be desirable, based on what Pi had told him about Sanctuary and its purpose. There was a war going on out there, and young vampires like himself were being cut down, sent off to someplace called the Shadow Realm. Even for the undead, death continued to rear its ugly head. Stryge was not afraid of dying. But he was afraid of letting down his new family. He would do whatever it took. And that required training. He hoped that he would receive it here.

As he passed into what seemed to be the correct part of the building for his kind, Stryge found a reception desk and an elevator in the pleasant, wood paneled lobby. From further back in the building, he heard voices drifting through the hallway. One voice he recognized immediately. the Australian accent unmistakable even from a distance. Stryge wandered back towards the sounds of people talking and came upon the open door of an office. Inside were Lancaster and a woman he didn't recognize, though, having seen her, he had no doubt he would never forget her. She was absolutely stunning. Stryge found himself in the unusual position of being at a loss for words, but he quickly recovered.

"Good evening folks. I was told by a Miss Pi d'Artois that I might find some accommodation at this here establishment. Don't s'pose either of y'all could help me out with that?" The Texan tipped an imaginary hat and smiled at the both of them with his easy grin. "I'd be much obliged."

[Sia (DELETED 7173)]

Sia smiled softly at Lancaster’s concern. New things were always scary; just thinking back to when she first came to Harper Rock University gave her an extra chilling feeling. As much as she had confidence and as much as she was supported by friends and family back in Ethiopia, there was still that fear of moving 20 hours away, into a country where she was completely unfamiliar with. It all managed to work out after the first year, but she would never admit there were times she felt she just might pack her bags and go home.

“Sometime starting new it is a bit frustrating,” she nodded with a smile and sat across from him. “But you have such a clear vision and passion for all of this; I cannot see it not working,” the words weren’t quite an exaggerated motivational speech, but sometime the least words were even better. It was the warmness and calmness of her voice that many claimed put their minds at ease. Such an easy soul to be around even now in this state of being. She wouldn’t let this life alternation bring her down like she seen with so many.

Setting down the leather satchel at her side, she straightened her back and looked around his office. It needed some livening up; perhaps that was part of his depression. She was no psychology major however and sometime she even gave attention to her own hang up’s and doubts; but she would never tell. Bringing a finger to tap against her lip, she hummed softly in thought.

“New movements always take a little extra strength Lancaster and even when things get off the ground you will still have to have that strength to carry them through,” she reminded herself of the first campus protest she lead in her sophomore year. Her professor in her least favorite class had been the first one to urge her to fight what she believed in…and that she did.

“I was once told that things cannot change until just one person makes the first move,” she shrugged a little and reached out for his hand to pet it just like she did when they had first met. “Perhaps we need to advertise much more,” she leaned over and pulled some paper out of her pocket, just in time to be startled by another gentleman’s introduction. She was rarely startled.

Her eyes flickered to Lancaster, searching his face to see his expression as to whether or not he knew this man; and then to the man’s face to determine what his intentions were. She was an over analyzer and she loved it. Sure sometime it was powerful to lead a protest, but then many other times just as powerful to study and listen. The guy’s accent sent a little pitter patter in her stomach as she had never heard it before. A beautiful things about North America, one just never knew what “new” might pop up.

Sia reached up nervously to fix the flowered scarf that tied neatly at the nap of her neck and hung over her shoulder, just passed her collar bone. She wasn’t in particular looking fancy today, just a pair of jeans and a plan black tee shirt, what set her aside was the jewelry and head dress. She felt almost self-conscious, which was very odd, still it was no match against her natural friendly nature. Standing up she straightened herself out quickly and approached, her long fingers extending into a suggested handshake.

“This is The Sanctuary and you have come to the right place,” she looked back and gave Lancaster a knowing smile. Who knew his wishes would come true so quickly, she hoped it put his mind ease, at least for now.

“My name is Sia and this is Lancaster,”

[Lancaster]

Lancaster wanted to laugh, given Sia’s sage advice. The way she offered it in such a genuine and deep tone, as if he were having some kind of nervous breakdown. There were no nervous breakdowns. Just vague concerns that would be dealt with in due course. One step after another. That was always the way with these things, wasn’t it?

He was about to open his mouth to respond; to tell her that yes, he was in the process of advertising and of course, he knew someone had to make the first move which was why he and Pi were here, trying to take the first vital step. But all responses halted upon his tongue. This always happened. Nothing, and then everything at once. He and Sia’s conversation – even if he was just about to laugh at her and tease her for being far too serious – was interrupted by two things at the same time. Stuart, waltzing through the door, and his phone buzzing noisily across the surface of the desk.

Lancaster picked up the phone but didn’t answer it right away; he found himself grinning, a low laugh crawling over his tongue as he was witness to Stuart and Sia meeting for the first time. Witness not only to the physical act, but to the emotions involved, too. The way Sia’s previously overtly serious demeanour suddenly spiked with a wary nervousness. It was encouraging, to say the least, and Lancaster would find it thoroughly satisfying if he knew Stuart had an interest in other women. Or one other woman. Anyone but his Papillon.

”Sia, this is Stuart. About as fresh as you are, I’d reckon,” he said, nodding to the other male in greeting. ”I don’t know why Pi would direct you here, mate, when we’ve got plenty of other places to stay. But if you’re lookin’ for something of your own… one second, though. I should answer this,” he said, making a gesture with his hand that Sia and Stuart should chat and get to know each other while Lancaster took care of business. At least, he assumed it was a business call. No one called him unless it was one of his employees. Not that he cared – he often didn’t have his phone on him, and if people failed to call him it was probably because they knew him, and knew there were better and easier ways to get in contact with him. Anyway, it could be someone about the advertisement he’d just posted to the internet. And he’d have to make an effort to keep the phone upon him at all times.

He turned away from the other members of his family, slipping somewhere quiet so that he wouldn’t disturb them. He swiped the phone and answered.

”Lancaster d’Artois…”

[Lancaster]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Myk> “Uh… Hi there. I’m calling about the advert concerning the Sanctuary?” The Telepath was stammering and his voice was infected with the lilts of a proper British accent – it was all Rutherford’s fault.

<Lancaster d’Artois> Standing at a distance from the others, Lancaster cleared his throat. "Yeah, you've got the right number. How can I help?" he asked, his accent very strong, and very Australian.

<Myk> There was a pause then. “I was wondering, actually, if I could help you…” The comment was not as arrogant as it might have seemed. Laced in uncertainty, in humbleness, Myk genuinely wondered if he could help.

<Lancaster d’Artois> "Great!" Lancaster said, not at all fielding the comment as arrogant. It was exactly what Lancaster had advertised for, so of course he was hoping people would call up and ask to help. "If you want to come in for an interview, we can set you up - find out what your strengths are," he said. "Do you have a free time?"

<Myk> As Myk was listening to the other man talk, he couldn’t help but feel like a weight was leaning down on his right shoulder. Was Rutherford listening in on their conversation? The Telepath shifted, turning sharply in his seat. “I’m free right now and… in general. Do I need to… bring anything, do anything?”

<Lancaster d’Artois> Lancaster laughed. "I think we're past all the human trivialities of resumes or CVs. Just bring yourself. If I need to know anything there are ways to find out. But - I am a fan of trust. Just yourself. And we can chat. And you can decide if it's a movement you'd like to be involved in," he said. "I assume you're... beyond human?"

<Myk> Myk snickered at the interesting word choice of the Vampire speaking to him. It always amused him when code was used to mask their world. Better safe than sorry and all that, even if he didn’t personally care if people knew what he was, he supposed it was better to pretend he did. Logically speaking, however, would a non-Vampire be signing up to teach people to be Vampires? Rutherford may have been snickering too – he did think Myk to be a fledgling himself, after all. “I guess you could say I am… Though, I’m sure you have ways of finding out if I am or not. My name’s Myk. Please feel free to do a… background check before we meet.”

<Lancaster d’Artois> Lancaster heard the snicker and laughed a breathy laugh at his own choice of words, too. They could get interesting, sometimes, he being the great denier that he was. Preferring to pretend to still be human rather than face the facts. But this was a step in the right direction. "Yeah, nah. It's fine, mate. Myk. I'll trust you, until we meet. Do you know where to go?"

[Myk]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Myk> “I have an idea. I’m… apparently sitting across the street from you.” That was probably too much information. It sounded like he was stalking them or something. Should Myk have done a background check in return? Normally he would. Though, normally it would be automatic. There were too many distractions tonight. Myk could hear the Wraith chuckling to itself, causing the other patrons to look over in his direction with suspicious frowns. “Uh… Should I pop by maybe? What time is good for you?”

<Lancaster d’Artois> "Whenever you want. I'll be here for a few hours yet," he said, glancing over at Sia and Stuart. "You can meet a couple of people," he said, though he frowned, wondering if Sia and Stuart were here for the same reasons. "Swing on by."

<Myk> Since the gentleman on the other end had yet to tell him where to go, Myk felt encouraged to attend. Of course there was that paranoia niggling in the back of his brain, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach, but Myk was a practiced ignorant. He could ignore the paranoia and just smile and comply. “Ok. I will. Thank you. I can probably take a walk over in a few moments. I…” and he stopped. Myk was going to make a mention about how easy he would be to spot, but, that was no longer true. “It will be nice to see you all in person.”

<Lancaster d’Artois> "Yeah. I'm glad you called. Maybe it's not such a hopeless cause after all," he said with a chuckle. "We're just inside the lobby of Sanctuary apartments. You can't miss us," he said. As always, completely honest. Lancaster liked to be honest about his own feelings, given that he could read the feelings of others without their permission.

<Myk> Myk felt a pang of remorse in response to Lancaster’s declaration of hopelessness. Ever the sucker, Myk sighed and felt the need to add some cheer to the situation. Maybe he wasn’t the visible clown that he had been before, but the soul was still there, the heart was still there. “Thank you,” Myk said, smiling, even if the other couldn’t see. “I’ll be there soon.”

<Lancaster d’Artois> Lancaster nodded. "Looking forward to it," he said, before hanging up. He paused to save the number in his phone before he wandered back toward the others, pushing his fingers through his hair but angling himself properly, so that he could see the doorway.

<Myk> Myk nodded – again, despite the fact the other man couldn’t see. Body language was usually a lot more reliable than his words, apparently. Myk returned the phone to his pocket once the call had come to an end, then he looked for Rutherford… or rather, the affect Rutherford had had. The café held a new atmosphere now, the tense and unnerving kind, but maybe Myk was imagining it. Still, the Telepath wasted no more time in there. Laptop shutdown and closed, Myk slipped it under his arm and slinked out of the door the best he could with seven pairs of eyes on him. The Wraith followed, even if the Telepath wasn’t wholly aware of it, right up to the door of The Sanctuary. Once there, Myk entered with little ceremony other than to announce himself with a short, proud knock. The Telepath stepped exactly four steps forward and two steps right – away from the door, but close enough to leave should he need to. The Wraith stayed within the young Vampire’s shadow like a shadowy Guardian Angel. Even though Myk had been invited in, he still felt like he was intruding. The three people already here were quickly Appraised, a natural reaction on his part. Myk would stay where he was for just a few moments longer before announcing himself.

[Stryge (DELETED 7204)]

Sia. He knew that name. She had introduced herself to him on the Crownet. Stryge was still getting used to the idea of vampires having their own underground version of the internet. These 21st century vampires were a long way from the images Stryge had from watching movies as a kid of Dracula in his dilapidated castle. What he recalled from the forums was that Sia was new to the family, like Stryge himself.

Stryge took the hand that Sia had offered him. Though both of their hands were cold as the proverbial grave, he could swear that he felt warmth when they touched. He shook it politely.

"Stuart Giger. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He preferred his new name, his d'Artois name, but Lancaster had already let the cat out of the bag, and he didn't think it would be fit and proper to contradict the more experienced vampire in front of what he presumed to be his childe, based on the way Lancaster had introduced her to the family online. Lancaster and he already had a bit of terse relationship. Stryge knew Elliot could sense the strange obsession he had over Pi. Sense it? Hell, Stryge wasn't exactly shy about vocalizing it. Crazy people don't usually know they're crazy, but being a vampire, having his body supernaturally recreated, had caused to Stryge to become very in tune with the strange new workings of his physiognomy as well as his psychology. Sometimes he could stand back from himself and see that the goddess-worship which he bestowed upon his sire was an abnormal psychosis induced by the turning. But the other half of his brain didn't seem to care, and could only understand that the sun and moon rose and fell with the French woman. It wasn't a great impression to make on Pi's lover, and first impressions were everything when starting something new.

Speaking of first impressions, Stryge suddenly felt decidedly under dressed all of a sudden, standing there in what was basically his b&e gear. The dark-skinned woman made a striking impression with her scarf and head dress. You're a vampire now, Stu, he thought. Where's your sense of style? He thought woefully of the stolen Brooks Brothers suit folded neatly in his pack, and wished he had worn it. Though he also found himself surprised that he cared so much about how he looked to this woman Sia.

"I heard tell you and I are both recent additions to the d'Artois family. It'll be nice having someone else to learn the ropes with." Stryge's smile widened. One hand was in his jeans pocket, where he nervously fingered the key he had found on his dresser at Bunk Backpackers the other night after returning from a zombie hunt. It had been labeled B - 107, and had been accompanied by a note written in elegant script: Welcome to Sanctuary. Enjoy your new home. - Pi

"So how did you and Elliot meet?" Dear god, he was making small talk. Stryge was feeling decidedly off his game. How did this woman have him so off-balance?

As Stryge spoke with his fellow fledgling, his ears picked up snippets of the conversation Lancaster was having on the phone. It sounded as if another of their kind might be joining them momentarily. Well, the more the merrier. Maybe they'll get here before I make a complete fool of myself, thought Stryge and directed his attention back to Sia.