Meeting of the Minds [Vampire Meeting]

[Every]

WEARING

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This meeting takes place on April 19th, 2019 at 9PM Eastern among those who have contacted the organizers [Mortll, Alexandrea or Every] ICly. If you have any questions, please post them in this thread and one of us will get back to you. Thank you!

“At least after this mess, we’ll be able to get **** moving forward.”

Every muttered under her breath as she straightened up from the crouched position that she had been in, setting up the second video camera feed. She had only stepped foot into the venue after making sure that an Eirene’s Will had been set into place for the evening. She didn’t know how the meeting would go, nor did she even quite understand why she’d accepted Alexandrea’s offer to help plan it, but as the pieces fell into place, there she was.

And, for the most part, she felt ready.

Chairs had been arranged in a way that those that attended would be able to see the speaker, with an area for the organizers to remain in front. There would be a copy made and sent out to those that arrived, her laptop positioned to where combination could be witnessed by a program if someone were to accuse her of adjusting the footage. Tapping her pocket, she made sure the remote control she had was still in place before moving away.

The mentioned topics formulated by the survey had been written up on presentation easel, an arrangement of sharpies laid out on a table nearby with sticky notes in case one had something else they wished to add. She had already written ‘meeting between humans and vampires?’ on one, both for an example and a suggested idea. As she took one final look at the set meeting arrangements, Every folded her arms in front of her chest, shifting her weight and stepped off to the side for the time being. Although she’d brought her usual weapons along, the knowledge of the ritual in place had allowed her to remove everything with the exception of her tome from her person with the rest situated by three chairs that had been positioned at the front, for herself, Alexandrea and Mortll as the organizers.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

She breathed, her boot clad foot tapping from the uncertainty of whether it would go positively or negatively. If needed be, she was prepared to show the events that had happened the previous year if one asked, even if it would be one by one. Removing a toothpick from a small, clear container from her pocket, Every set it between her lips while idly rolling it at times and remained standing.

[Alexandrea]

The blonde dragged the last of the lawn chairs into place that had been so thoughtfully provided by Levi and then took a seat next to the karaoke machine she just had to bring along and waited for the others to arrive.

She nodded as each person entering caught her eye, keeping a warm smile of her face as her hands rested softly on the clipboard she was holding on top of her laptop. After several minutes had gone by and everyone had claimed a seat, she put the laptop down on the floor keeping hold of just the oddly decorated clipboard.

With a slight clearing of her throat, Alexandrea stood up and looked around the room, happy to see that there a few more faces that had arrived. With a cheerful grin, she held up the clipboard. It had 'talking stick' painted across the back in bright red lettering. On the front, a few sheets of ruled notebook paper was held in place and a pen was attached by a long beaded cord of hemp string.

"This is the talking stick, I ask that anyone who wished to speak take the clipboard and write down your name and what issues are of most concern to you... before you begin."

"Unless of course, you are happy with how things are, in which case you can choose to take a turn on the karaoke machine. " The Allurist chuckled playfully, although she was completely serious about everyone singing later.

"So who wants to go first?"

Alex looks something like this... https://i.imgur.com/wrzuJMv.jpg (minus the bathroom)

[Levi DAmico]

The sound that broke free of the Italian’s lips was a punching laugh when the invite had finally come through; the derisive kind of snort that a teenaged troublemaker would make toward a letter from their principal. All the same, he reviewed the original missive; his eyes passed over those sentences time and time again, digging for treasure, for a hidden meaning, for some way he could claw out strength and ambition again. But there was little to find. The words etched into that digital paper were final and unflattering; the people wanted peace, but didn’t know how to find it. Levi D’Amico didn’t know a damn thing about peace other than how temporary it was. He’d received plenty of olive branches in the past and had given a fair few away too, but it always ended the same way; with a bullet.

The smile that came to his lips was accidental, brushed off with a quick smirk and a cigarette. Smoke formed a distorted halo around him as he considered his next move. Obviously he was going to have to meet with these people; the very same people he had been ignoring and avoiding since his dark-birth in 2014. But things had been different for a long while - not that he had changed at all - and the number of Vampiri were dwindling. He wasn’t exactly disappointed by that small fact as 99% of the general undead populace was as intelligent as it was charming. Still, he had never known how to relax and there was this lingering sense of unfinished business gnawing away at him day and night, which felt like it had been stuck to the roof of his mouth for the past year and a half.

The latest request for a Townhall meeting had stirred something in the Italian, though. It was something that Gino had said to him when he’d discovered the truth in 2016 that his ill-begotten nephew was among the living dead. Levi had a good memory for these kinds of things, especially when it came to Gino Valachi, because it was more often the most subtle clues that gave away the man’s deadly plans. The elder Sicilian considered himself an honorable games master, with riddles greater than the Sphinx and codes that would baffle even Alan Turing, but he still gave you a chance. For some, he gave more than a chance, and for Levi, he gave a lifetime’s worth. After all, even in his death, Gino sought to teach Levi the lesson of sentiment. So it was important right now to consider just how much sense the old man had been making all those years prior...

“So what do you want?”

Chestnut eyes flashed as pitch-black as the room. “I want to accelerate the demise of your kind, D’Amico. You must know you’re doomed. Your numbers are too few to sustain your disorganised ranks. You are a pack of hyenas – divided by in-fighting and petty squabbles of power while the lions close in around you. Nature decides which is the victor in a competition between predators. While your jaws are strong, they are meaningless because they are solitary. The mortal populace of this planet will not accept you with open arms, they will crush you. They are already working on it.”

And this advice had come at a time even before the Hellmouth had been opened beneath Sunnydale Rock, spewing forth a great ancient evil and her minions. Levi hadn’t learned much about the situation, but he had read the rumours, he’d seen the fallout, and he had watched how quickly the situation devolved into a matter of blame rather than a herold for solutions on the good old CrowNet. None of this surprised him, but for a change of pace, Levi had decided that he would make himself known to his new family. Naturally, the grumpy Italian made the worst of first impressions by outright suggesting that the true solution to their problems was life itself and that nukes were designed specifically for such purposes. Still, he could play nice if it meant that he benefited from it and at this point in time, Levi just wanted something to do.

By the time the Vampiro had made his way to the small store of Jardin De Fleurs, by the time his Italian loafers had passed the threshold of the rooftop garden in the search for un-life, he was made witness to an unfathomable scene. A brunette was in the process of setting up what looked to Levi like a daycare centre activity with an array of coloured pens and post-it notes. The Italian watched the petite brunette’s movements very closely. Her strides had been decisive and confident; she had moved with the supernatural elegance and strength that their species had become famous for. Then there was the blonde with the microphone whose very presence made Levi squint his eyes like he was staring directly at the sun again. The fact that these two were standing amongst the seats must have meant that they were running the show.

It wasn’t clear if anyone had clocked him as quickly and as suspiciously as he’d clocked them, so Levi took up his routine of looking like a right shady *********** dressed in a fine, all-black Italian suit and a trademark grimace – even if that grimace did show a bit of humour this time. Levi found a place for himself at the back of the room, behind the last row of chairs, hoping to remain fairly inconspicuous. The recording equipment nearby was impossible to miss, however. They stood out as foxes tend to do in a henhouse. Levi didn’t mind the intrusion too much, even though he didn’t like being filmed in the slightest because that was the type of **** that created evidence and led to people being indicted. Or, at least it did when he was a mortal. For once, the Italian hadn’t arrived with ill-will or devious intent, but he was well-armed enough to defend himself. Nevermind the plethora of supernatural gifts that he had acquired, Levi came packing with a pair of high-powered handguns which were concealed neatly beneath his jacket.

[Caligrace]

WEARING

When she had first heard of the meeting, she hadn’t been able to keep the images of pitchforks and townspeople clad in robes from entering her mind. There something almost archaic about such an event, but that hadn’t stopped her from agreeing to attend, much to Every’s delight. It was as though her best friend - and mentor - had thought that she was going to decline. As if I would let her walk into the potential lion’s den alone, she thought, lips quirking with a hint of a smirk. Her hands smoothed through her tousled tresses, the attempt at putting order to the tangled, windblown mess proving to be futile. There was absolutely nothing she could do, especially with the few short minutes she had left before she had to grace the halls.

Truth be told, she was stalling. It wasn’t like her to not already be there, standing at Every’s side, but she couldn’t bring herself to step through the doors. No, not when she knew what the meeting was truly about. The state of the city. It didn’t matter that, in the grand scheme of things, she had absolutely nothing to do with what had happened. She hadn’t been in the throne room that night, she hadn’t laid eyes upon this mystical, powerful creature that had caused so much strife in such little time. She hadn’t had a single say in the matter, and yet, she was suffering for it. In retrospect, she knew she wasn’t the only one. There were hundreds of innocents who had even less knowledge than she, that were just as impacted by the choices made that night. Releasing a quiet breath, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, the leather still swallowing her whole - and for once, she didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, she relished in it, pulling the oversized material tighter around her small form. If she could hide within it, she would, though only for a few seconds more. Her eyes, wide and dark, were locked on the clock hanging in a store window, and she watched as the time ticked by. It was as, in those final, fleeting moments, time had sped up. When it struck the hour, she braced herself, willing a coat of armor to form about her heart, her mind, even if it was only fantasy. She knew the moment she stepped through those doors that she would need it for whatever was to come. The animosity she might feel, the guilt, the violence, the confusion and the fear. She was certain the air was going to be heavy with it, and her hands had already begun to shake from the simple thought of it. “It’s time to get this show on the road, girl,” she said to herself, and with her silver tin clutched in her palm, made her way inside.

It didn’t take long for her to find the woman she needed, and she weaved her way through the chairs and tables until she found herself at Every’s side. Flashing her a smile, it was thought the past few minutes of internal agonizing had never happened. Instead, she allowed herself to appear relaxed, the picture perfect image of charm. No one had to know the way she held her small tin, or the way she felt the weight of her weapons hidden beneath her jacket. Her gaze swept across the room, taking note of those that had already gathered. Every line of their face, the shape of their face and color of their eyes were forever ingrained within her mind the second she laid eyes on them. The blonde, who held the clipboard, had to be Alexandrea. She was quickly dismissed - after all, she had helped Every set this up - but it was the man that caught her attention the longest. She took a moment to study him, his features foreign to her.

“I’m Caligrace,” she heard herself say to him before she had the chance to truly process what was happening. She didn’t hold her hand out to him, but she did offer a warm - and for the moment - genuine smile. After all, he was nothing more than a stranger. A stranger that more than likely came with an agenda, but she knew he wouldn’t be the only one.

[Baptiste (DELETED 11846)]

B would be lost without his smartphone. The thin bar of champagne gold and black glass is as precious as a pacemaker. It doesn’t keep his heart pumping - nothing can do that job now - but it’s just as ingrained in him and it keeps him working to schedule which helps him to live as normally as is physically and spiritually possible. He’s in the middle of another video, reacting to fan comments from a previous Tweet, when the alarm on his phone goes off. It’s one of the only apps on his phone that’s been authorised to send him notifications, so even though the device is set to vibrate, it sends a flashing message to his wristwatch. Normally, he wouldn’t see it beneath the sleeve of his black hoodie, but he just so happens to have the oversized sweatshirt’s arms pulled up to his elbows. B pauses the dialogue he’s having with the lonely camera set up in the middle of his room on a tripod and checks his watch.

V MEETING. 9PM. JARDIN FLEURS.

The message scrolls in an endless loop and B breathes a sigh. It feels like another lifetime ago when he first set that reminder in his calendar; updating the message only a few days ago when Alexandrea gave out a place and time for the meeting. The sensation he gets in the pit of his stomach reminds him of the anxiety he feels when he’s due to attend those stuffy investor meetings. It’s only natural to hold some spite against the people who you rely on to get by regardless of how grateful you are that they help you in the first place. Some part of living the dream feels like selling his soul. However, it’s not the same reason why B is nervous now. It’s the unknown that gets him flustered: what should he say, what should he do, and is he supposed to dress up or down?

Be lets out a laugh, releasing some of the tension. If there was a sport for overthinking, he would win a gold medal every year and there would be a queue of people lining up for drug tests and interviews. It likely has something to do with his upbringing - every problem starts in childhood - and being the only child of a pair of upper class try-hards does have its effect on an impressionable youth. B is every stereotype that’s ever been said to him: insular, stubborn, effeminate, self-possessed, and focused. As for being awkward and antisocial, B has it in such excessive quantities that he’s been hailed “utterly adorkable” by his followers. There are worse things to be called on the internet and even worse things to be accused of, so he takes it with a smile and lets it become part of the amalgamous persona that’s becoming bigger than he ever thinks he could be.

Fitting in has never really been B’s style and turning up to a secret vampire meeting in black Nike sneakers, skinny jeans, and his oversized hoodie that reads #thisisveuyor should ensure he’s on brand. He doesn’t know how many people will be there and how they would stack up to his grand imagination of what a vampire society would be like in the real world. B doesn’t know if the pop culture interpretations are reflections, caricatures or completely off the mark, and he knows from experience that the vampires he’s met so far aren’t obvious vampires. From his complexion, B could be in Florida donning a fresh white shirt and sable shorts, but in this Canadian spring, he's layered up for the minus figures outside. Better yet, even the thought of drinking blood makes him dizzy.

When B arrives at the meeting, his baby blue eyes scan the rooftop garden above the shop and he waves in recognition to Cali. He raises his eyebrows in a signal of pleasant surprise to see that she’s already making conversation before he moves around the chairs to take a seat. He sits with heavy awkwardness, but the anxiety mixes into anticipation as he looks around the room. They seem organised and he can’t wait for the meeting to start.

[Mortll]

Wearing

Mortll slid back in her chair she had been preparing for this for awhile and it was almost time. The monitors in front of her flickered as the people moved around setting up the tables and chairs. They would never see the cameras that were hidden among the trees and foliage, they had been installed shortly after the first time the place had been vandalized and have been a great asset.

She had to keep her head and not let them get the better of her. It was so easy to fall into their "Its not my fault i didnt do nothing" routine that they were so fond of. She knew everyone made mistakes hell she was Queen of mistakes. One thing she knew there was no forgiveness in this town for mistakes of the magnitude that had happened last year. But apparently there was only going to be one way to fix this mess and that was suck it up and work with everyone to find a solution. It was not going to be easy but hey since when had her life ever been easy.

She stood up and ran her hands down the smooth material of her suit smoothing out any wrinkles. She slid the panel aside that opened up behind a tall barrier of shrubbery that hid it from view and entered the roof area of Jardin De Fleurs and made her way over to the blonde vampire that seemed very intimidating since she was waving around a Karaoke microphone. There was no way in hell she was going to sing.

[Myk]

WEARING

When the original Town Hall Meeting was being discussed, and was then subsequently held, Myk was undoubtedly enraptured by some silly thing and had therefore been ignorant to the whole affair. He had missed what had happened, including the whys, and struggled to ascertain many details; reading the people’s CrowNet was hardly a source of facts. What he had learned, however, was that only certain people could be trusted to share their thoughts after Ripper’s intervention, which was why round two was going to be structured differently. Honestly, Myk still couldn’t understand how Alexandrea’s invitation model differed from an invite-only, VIP affair, but then, he didn’t want to bother chasing clarification any longer. Vampires may have had an eternity to waste, but many things were beyond his patience and tolerance threshold. It was possible that he would just never understand her perspective on the matter, even if she had assured him that anybody could get an invite provided they asked. What he could understand, however, was that Alexandrea wasn’t doing this alone and that she had the assistance of two other Vampiresses; Mortll and Every.

What Myk knew of the other two females would be incapable of filling a thimble. His experience of them was limited to a sequence of ones and zeroes that, when transcribed from binary to English, made up a language of opinions at any rate. The Telepath tended to believe that facts and opinions were as comparable as dogs and cats; they shared ties and varied, and obviously one was better than the other or people saw no difference at all because their brain just wasn’t wired to think that way. As far as his cognitive processes were concerned, Myk trusted facts over opinions, but he understood that many an opinion had become listed as fact in mankind’s history when it failed to be appropriately challenged. After all, it was a long, and strongly held fact, that there was an omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent being sitting up there in the clouds casting judgment on mankind for his ability to pray at certain times of the day and separate his fabrics.

With this in mind, Myk understood that the facts and opinions about Mortll and Every were equally damning. Still, he’d not let those thimble-sized matters deter him. If anything, he was more determined than ever to ensure that these thimble-sized matters wouldn’t deter others. The CrowNet was a great example of what could happen if people allowed their opinions and misconceptions to dictate their lives; it distracted them into picking faults, identifying their differences, and expanding their tribal wars. This second proposal of the Town Hall Meeting would finally be a chance to put such differences aside and work together for a mutually beneficial arrangement. Of course, the Telepath had no idea what ambitions the people around him had as they gathered in the rooftop gardens of Jardin De Fleurs. Pewter eyes took note of each individual who had entered and purple instinct autonomously made a list of their general qualities.

Myk collated each individual to memory like pinning a piece of paper to a cork message board. In order of appearance, his eyes passed over Every, to Alexandrea, to Levi, to Caligrace, and to Baptiste – there was no sign of the third piece of the triangle just yet, however. Alexandrea glistened under the spotlight as she held out the talking-stick, while Every busied herself with the final stage preparations. Their actions struck him as kind of odd as each woman seemed to be in a state of limbo; ready to go, but not fully prepared. As a matter of fact, there was an air of tension around them all, like everyone was waiting for the bonfire to light, yet nobody wanted to extend their own flame. The only person who had taken a seat thus far was the newest member to their ranks. Baptiste, or Sparky, as the Qs had fondly named him, looked so young that Myk wondered if the boy had even been born when the catastrophe had hit Harper Rock City. Meanwhile, the two remaining attendees were as far away from centre stage as they could possibly be without being on the streets themselves. The bird-like features of Caligrace sharply contrasted against the very domineering, draconic influence of the man she was attempting to strike up a conversation with; Myk hoped that everyone would try for civility tonight.

“I appreciate we’re still waiting for people,” Myk offered in a clear, softened voice that harkened back to a life spent in London.

He decided to join the only seated guest, sitting directly next to Sparky’s left side. One leg crossed over the other in a slide of black leather and his pentagram belt buckles jangled with the movement. Porcelain white hands were folded into his lap; fingers laced and exaggerating already elongated cat-claws. With a straight back and shoulders squared, he presented a very fine example of elegance as milk-white hair spilled down the front of his lace-up blouse – it too in black.

“Do we have a register as to keep track of who’s left to arrive?” he added with a scarlet smile. “I’m fairly impatient.”

The unique invitation model should have allowed for a quick analysis of outstanding guests, but this number was only known by three individuals. It was now up to the ladies to take charge.

[Every]

From this point forward, replies can be as short as 50 words to 250 words. Enjoy guys, and sorry for the lateness from me!

One by one, they trickled in. She wasn't surprised when Caligrace showed, not in the least. For all the **** that Every had gotten herself into, the red head had been her rock for the previous year after her childer had disappeared - the russians back to their homeland. Nishaa had reappeared briefly before vanishing once more - this time, she hoped it was something other than a mooncalf being the reason. There had been ups and downs over the previous year. She had never been one to believe others would fix her problems and that hadn't changed, the woman working both day and night to find a solution to what had happened in the throne room, the mistake that her thrall had made.

It hadn't been the destruction of Harper Rock as many had panicked, but it had become a ghost town in some areas. Her hazel eyes dismissed Mortll as the woman finally arrived, Every tucking her hands in her pockets as she glanced around the room as someone spoke, asking about a register and looking about. She didn't recognize the voice, but the small amount of those gathered had helped her find them. She gave a shake of her head, overhearing Caligrace introducing herself and Alexandrea explaining the role of the talking stick. "Aside from mental memory, no, I figure between the three of us, the list can be dwindled down. We're only missing a couple, however, so if they choose to trickle in, so be it. They won't be turned away. Who'd like to go first?"

[Mortll]

Mortll hadn't really paid attention to who all was currently here yet There were a few familiar faces Calligrace of course she had expected she usually stayed close enough to Every that if the other dark haired lady were to stop suddenly she would bump into her. Of course Mortll was exaggerating but only by a bit. Then there was the dark headed male she had seen several times before about the city when you were in such a town as this reputations got around especially when it was such a small community of bloodsuckers out there names and reputations got out there quickly so Mr DAmico was not unfamiliar to her. Her eyes continued to wander over the sparse few that had shown up The shocking white plumage of Myk was clearly visible another one she knew but had rarely ever spoken to or hung out with socially she did not quite know how givnen Alex's proclivity for random event throwing. That left the young one you could almost smell the new on him her eyes narrowed a bit as she took in the sandy blonde hair and young face. She never let age fool her there were some that had old souls in a young body her sire and siblings had taught her that the hard way.

She turned her attention back to Every as she spoke offering up the floor Mortll cleared her throat slightly then spoke "Well There are going to be a lot of Questions im sure Why dont we start out with Information first that way It might cut down on the Chaos of random questions and put the events in order. So if you would not mind explaining to those that may not know about what happened last year the events that took place. " Mortlls voice dwindled and fell silent

[Levi DAmico]

Did Levi D’Amico have an agenda for the evening?

Perhaps it would be more interesting to know when Levi didn’t have an agenda as those occasions would certainly be more rare and require a thorough investigation. The former caporegime of the Boston Mafia was used to having a plan of attack, a strategy, and objective for even the most innocuous and superficial activities; even down to something as small and insignificant as tying his shoelaces. The far larger affairs – like this one – required a hell of a lot more brain power and time to over-analyse, and since the Italian just so happened to have those resources in spades these days, he’d certainly managed to come up with a strong list of actions that he’d wanted to achieve by the end of the night. First and foremost, he wanted to identify the parties who were putting themselves forward as caretakers for their community; these would likely be the ones that had some kind of influence or governing powers, or at least had enough passion to drive them toward said strength. Secondly, Levi wanted to establish a timeline of events, namely what had happened in the past, what is going on now, and what they were going to do in the future. After that, he could decide who would be best equipped to help him seek his own goals and who he’d have to keep an eye on as a potential rival.

When it came down to it, Levi wanted the same thing now that he had always wanted: freedom. As a member of the Patriarca, this meant securing his own lines of dominance by establishing relationships with powerful adversaries under the noses of his superiors, eventually buying them out of any kind of influence that they would have over him. These activities had eventually led him to Harper Rock City where a meeting with the Calabrians was ambushed by a crazed, redheaded Vampira and resulted in Levi waking up dead that very same night. As it turned out, being Vampiri came with its own set of rules and restrictions, its secrets and its persuasions, and was not unlike the world that the Italian knew. He’d been born into a criminal legacy and had been embraced by some of the best minds in the business. Gino Valachi, for example, was one of Sicily’s veteran advisors, providing counsel and support on a number of big decisions and making sure that objections and problems disappeared before they were ever even heard. Gino had adopted Levi was he was only 13 years old, shortly after the D’Amico family had moved to Boston from their home in Verona, Italy. But when Levi had been thrust into the world of darkness at the blood-soaked hands of CC, he found that his peers and superiors were as equipped to teach him as they were able to perform Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5 with both arms and legs removed and nothing but an empty Kleenex box as an instrument.

Five years was not a long time when compared to an eternity, but it was long enough for the Italian to judge the actions of his kind and find them lacking in each and every area that he deemed important. Perhaps the biggest problem was that they were mostly too loud and while they were harping on and on about their achievements, they were such measly and unimpressive victories that he frequently found himself dizzy from rolling his eyes. The biggest **** storm to hit Harper Rock – prior to an ancient Vampira being released and flooding the streets with monstrous undead, that is – was the Bounty Hunting System which a group of pirates was using as their shield and sword in the battle to ‘do good’ for the veil of secrecy that protected their kind. What other people didn’t know about Vampiri was better for them all because Levi understood it instantly, the minute he was turned, that this new power could be a deadly weapon in some hands and not every hand deserved such strength. So, to summarise; Levi thought well of the Masquerade, but didn’t think so well of the self-righteous group that served to protect it because they were two-faced, illogical, emotional little wretches. Likewise, the individuals who opposed the idea of secrecy also denied the savagery of nature and that even a cow will pause its grazing to chomp on a small bird if it can get one in its mouth.

People were generally ******* stupid and what they didn’t understand they would ultimately seek to destroy. So when the Masquerade fell, Levi found it was more important than ever to hide his secret. You couldn’t rely on the populace thinking that a witness was crazy now that the cat was out of the bag. Instead, everything was as a result of Vampiri. The cat got lost. Vampiri. The dog ran away. Vampiri. Some dude lost his job after turning up drunk to work. Vampiri. There’s monsters roaming the streets and people getting killed, driving businesses away, and turning the city into the second coming of the Wild West… Ok, that was definitely down to Vampiri, but as far as Levi was aware, it was just this one bella running the show. Theodosia. Her minions didn’t cause him any trouble; falling with the same heavy thud as any other Mooncalf, really. Still, shooting them in the face wasn’t resolving the true problem. This meeting was supposed to do that. This meeting was supposed to do a lot of things, like introduce him to new folk too.

At first, the laconic Vampiro only nodded his head in greeting to the woman who identified herself as Caligrace. Umber eyes passed over her demure features and fitted attire, committing her image to memory. She’d only spoken two words to him and been in the room less than two minutes, but the Italian was already judging her. He found it odd that she was addressing him from across the room; standing at the side of one of the hosts for the evening. The brunette, who had previously been setting up post-it notes and a message board, was standing at the front of the room whilst he was stood behind the final row of chairs at the back, but he was certain that Caligrace was speaking to him when she made her introduction. As strange as introductions go, at least she bothered to give one, which was more than could be said for the remaining attendees. As for the others, who came trickling in after her, Levi had no clue who these people were either and apparently the meeting was going to just start without even so much as an ice breaker. These people seriously had no clue what the **** they were doing and clearly needed him more than he needed them.

“Or,” he said at last; his voice a low rumble of thunder in an otherwise tranquil evening when Mortll’s words died a death on the crowd. “How about you lot introduce yourselves. You might all well be familiar with each other, but you’re strangers to me.” And while it was a weird feeling of having to introduce himself to a room full of people, because Levi was pretty infamous in his own circles, the Boston-Italian accent coated his name with a hard candy shell when he spoke, “I’m Levi D’Amico. I’ve done pretty well at keeping myself to myself for the last five years until all this **** blew in. So, who the hell are all of you? Then we can get on with the why we’re here and all the rest of that.”