V;tM - Clan Tremere

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

The Private Collection.
It was scrawled across the top of the large archway in some styllized font, engraved into a golden plaque. The building so named was of quite gothic architecture. Those passing by on the street were at first struck by the large gargoyles that rested on pillars. The berths of such stone beasts were laid upon the outer edges of the expansive stairway. Black, iron-wrought handrails had been attached to the old stone for those with trouble walking.

The stairs themselves were small, as if designed for older women and children. A hurried stride often found them a touch uncomfortable to tread. They lead directly to the front doors. The massive wooden doors that should have once sat in the solid framework of the three story building had been replaced at some point by a variance of plexiglass. See-through, bulletproof, and apparently impervious to nicks and dents.

Five feet before the door pillars rose, leading into the archway of a stone awning. A comforting shield from foul weather. The lip of the stonework extended another three feet in front of the pillars, offering protection to the uppermost step on the stairs. Various gargoyles appeared at regular intervals upon the lip of the awning, mouths agape and eyes staring. They channeled water away, many becoming incorporated into some minor landscaping that had occurred in the few centuries since its birth.

Many windows were still set with the original colored panes, and those that had shattered had been replaced with equally breathtaking artwork. No outdoor lights were set to shine garishly upon the building during the night. Instead teh windows glowed from within, gifting the surrounding area with an eerie, shifting luminescence. It was an old building, a strange building. One that hardly fit in this modern city, or in the street block it filled.

Perhaps that is why the catholic church had eventually sold it, so long ago. The religious overtones had never been removed, but none came there to worship a Christian God. The building was now owned by a private book collector. A powerful man who made quite a business on the sale and purchase of rare or unique texts. He had a passion for ancient lore, it is said, and had managed to make it one of his largest business assets.

By day the building did brisk business; everything by appointment. Security was extremely tight, and no successful burglaries had been acheived. As night embraced the world, The Private Collection became something else. A gathering place of death and damned souls. A chantry house for the Tremere of Manchester.

-<:|OOC|:>-
The Tremere Chantry, while well known, is not an easy place to break into or otherwise affect. If you're interested in trying, PM me and we will work out the scene beforehand and post the storyline results.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

Silver moonlight softened the evening with its balm of quietude. The soft engine of the black car rumbled softly as it propelled its prestigious cargo through the city's streets. It took a leisurely route, but its destination was clear. It was coming. She, was coming. Here. For a visit, for business.

He sat patiently at his desk, a mountain of intellect, determination, and raw willpower. Patient as a hunting cat. This evening found him dressed in pair of black slacks. The fit his long, athletic legs well, and were cuffed at the bottom. Well cared for suede boots gripped his feet as they rested, bootheals down, upon his expansive mahogany desk. His pants were belted by a strip of polished black leather, the silver buckle a gleam in the warm candle light of his office.

He preferred the muted warmth of the candles. It was an old, familiar source of light. The presence of so many flames also served as a distraction. Few were the kindred whom could maintain a pretense of comfort and relaxation when surrounded by soft glow of candles all aflame. Fewer still could sit and not have to fake it. The yellow light seemed to swallow in the soft grey texture of his shirt, designed to accentuat the crisp lines of his broad shoulders and smooth neck.

His lower jawbone led a line of thick brown hair down to his chin and around his lips. An impish nose rose over the mobile mouth and supported a small set of spectacles. Intelligent brown eyes gazed from that strong face, and had turned as swiftly from smouldering coals to freezing wastes as one turns on a modern light. The hair was short, stylish, and thick. Well defined arms ended in graceful, slender hands with even finger nails.

An old creature stirred in the corner of his office, a formless shadow blinking bright green eyes, remaining still, but stretching, it would seem. A ghost of a smile crossed the gentleman's lips and the shadow detached itself form the corner, revealing a black cat. The nimble animal paced casually to the large wooden desk and then leapt upon it, landing with hardly a thump. The beast settled down against his legs and began to clean itself meticulously.

He paused a moment to pick up the paper again and wander through the other articles, knowing he would probably have a bit of a wait, it was going to be busy this evening. For everyone. Still, his eyes were drawn to the article that had begun this little venture. A man found dead in the hospital, drained of blood. Doctors refusing to comment.

He grimaced, at the thought of the media getting even this much out. Whomever it was they had control of in the media, it wasn't enough. Influence would need to extend further. This article practically screamed "Vampire Attack!" It was a pleasant alert the activities of their enemies. Having warning before neonates started turning up dead was always pleasant.

Unfortunately it also brought every hunter in a three state radius. The kind of scrutiny that was about to fall on their heads would require more...guile...and control, than he wanted to deal with. He was not worried about his own. They knew how to follow orders. No, he was more worried about the...less disciplined clans. It was too much to expect them to organize for appropriate leadership and action.

Absently he let his mind wander, locating the travelling black limosuine and its escort on their path. Mentally he prepared himself for the necessary rites of humility and reverence due a Prince on any visit. When facing elders of clan Ventrue most found it easy to be respectful. Their disciplines had a way of...encouraging it. Yet Simeon had never found himself much affected by even the more potent Majesty that some of the elders seemed to exude like body odor.

Some might suppose it was a character flaw, and it had gotten him into some trouble at times before. Failing to act with necessary propriety could end up in one being punished by one's own elders, as well as the offended party. Such instances were accutely painful to recollect, yet they served as drive when he was younger, and he had since mastered the necessary traits.

Thus in silence, and thoughtful repose he awaited the same Prince he'd helped elect so long ago.

 

[StarXChyld]

The Manchester Mail

The Manchester Mail


United Press Service 11/23/02
Manchester, England

INVESTIGATION IN U.S. SERVICEMAN’S DEATH BEGUN

Manchester’s police sources confirm that a preliminary investigation into the death of U.S. Air Force Officer Steven Brickmann has begun. An autopsy was ordered by police homicide investigator Seth MacMichael. The findings will not be made public for several days according to the sources.

The body of the serviceman was found behind a meat packing plant under some mysterious circumstances. However Investigator MacMichael refused to call it a homicide. “As we know, things happen in Manchester which are strange to some,” MacMichael stated, “but do have completely understandable explanations once the circumstances are made clear”. MacMichael denied that there was any link between the death of the serviceman and recent anti-American demonstrations near the U.S. Embassy. He also refused to comment on whether the U.S. government was planning it’s own investigation. “They can answer such questions themselves.” MacMichael said.

However, U.S. embassy attache Christopher Keefe said that all avenues of investigation would be explored. “We have a U.S. military officer deceased in a foreign land under unexplained circumstances.” said Mr. Keefe. “Such matters would always be reviewed by the appropriate personnel here.” Mr. Keefe also denied any knowledge that the death was tied to any terrorist or anti-Western agents. “Such inquiries constitute unreasonable conjecture at this point in time.” stated Mr. Keefe. “We simply need more information.”

Police sources said that preliminary information suggests that the officer had been socializing in popular Manchester nightclubs prior to his disappearance. It is believed that investigators will be pursuing several leads in the downtown area.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

The evening had passed uneventfully. The weight of that statement was perhaps not evident to the untrained eye, yet it carried behind it so dreadfully much weight. If one were to take a step back, then one could add: A vampire has been allowed to breach the 1st tradition, and two nights have passed uneventfully. When he thought about it that way, Simeon grimaced. In a man not given over to self-expression, it was the equivalent of hysterics.

The implications, unfortunately, were quite dire. The possibilities were quite limited. On one side, the Prince might simply be unaware of the situation. Were that to be the case, then it meant the Prince had lost interest in her position. Failing to respond to such a serious breach in any fashion, and for over two nights was serious. A leader who was not capable failed to remain in position.

On the other-hand, the Prince might be aware of the incident, and be unable or unwilling to take action. If it were the former, then, again, she was too weak to maintain title. If it were the latter, then she was too irresponsible. That would be unfortunate. The step beyond that was the chance that the Prince had arranged for action to be taken already, and he had been kept from the knowledge.

The last seemed highly unlikely. Tonight's paper was an explosive problem. One the Tremere did not approve of having to deal with. However, when the leaders fail, the council steps in. It was time to summon his brethren's presence to the Elysium. Simeon rose from his personal chambers, a patch of shadow dropping from the top of his bookshelf and landing onto his shoulder. A black crow, eyes alert.

He wandered down the halls of the catacombs. The eyes of men long since dead watched him, faces grinning the rictus of death. Their souls, almost tangible, whispered for attention, for release, or for vengeance. The damned, it would seem, disturbed by his presence. It burned them with hatred every time they saw him.

Amongst the wraiths he wandered, his steps quiet, and assured. This was a familiar route, and he had nothing to fear from these servants. They had been conquered to his will long ago. He passed through the final series of wards, and entered a large, spherical room.

It had been an addition sometime in the 18th century. The lean figure of Simeon stepped through the door way and then drifted forward on will alone. The floor of the room dropped away fifteen feet below him. The ceiling was another fifteen above, and his destination was in the center of the globe, fifteen feet from the farthest bit of the wall. The entire interior had been covered in a black stone. Onyx, Simeon knew.

In the center was a pillar, a tall thing of alabaster that had a polished dais upon which to rest. Eos squawked once and flew over to the dais, landing lightly on one corner of it a few moments before Simeon's feet touched upon the cool stone. The only entrance to the room sealed itself with a resounding thud.

This was the Astral chamber. And it was from here that Simeon would send his summons. He bent himself to sit with an easy movement and settled down prone upon the surface of the smooth stone. Then, he sent his mind out, and located appropriate vessels to carry the word.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Natalia

Her plane landed on schedule; her car awaited her at the bottom of the stairs; and all was in readiness for her visits to the clan elders.

Michael, Clan Tremere, if you please.

She addressed her driver and sat back into the plush leather interior of her Bently. The car moved quietly through the dark city coming to a smooth stop as it arrived outside the house of the Tremere Clan.

Natalia and her half-dozen retainers entered the building through large doors that opened at their approach. They were apparently expected. Good, she thought, that should make thing move faster.

A young woman who appeared to have been waiting for some time, stepped before Natalia and bowed her head respectfully before speaking.

"Highness, welcome to House Tremere. My Master asks you to attend him in his private office. If you will follow me?"

She was displeased that Simeon was not here to greet her personally. That he expected her to come to him was out of the question. One finely arched brow raised, lips tightened, and Natailias eyes narrowed slightly; all were signs of displeasure that her staff immediately recognized.

Follow you to your Master? Attend him? I think you must be mistaken. I am not a tradesman to be hustled before the Master of the House. I am a Prince of the Kindred! You will prepare a suitable chamber for my use, then fetch your Master, and be quick, I do not plan to tarry here all night.

Natalia let her voice raise slightly as she spoke. She would not normally have insisted on such formality, but this was not a social call, and she would not have any of the clan elders forget who she was in the grand scheme of their society. They would treat her with the honor and respect due her station, or she would see to it that they regretted even thinking to do otherwise.

She looked down at the trembling female before her. Natalias ability to dominate had had the desired effect, the woman looked ready to drop to the floor and grovel.

"Ye...yes Highness, please, forgive me. The chamber to your right...if you would care to enter? I will speak with my Master."

The woman was clearly terrified of being caught between the two powerful beings. Natilie did not let it concern her, in fact, the taste of fear was quite pleasant. She smiled as she entered the small study. The room was lit with candles and a fire burned in the grate. She laughed softly. It had been many centuries since fire or the magic of the Tremere Clan had frightened her, she was amused that Simeon still found it effective.

Simeon, have you not tired of your little games?

She spoke to the empty room, although undoubtedly someone observed her movements as she waited for the arrival of the clan elder. Natalia seated herself in a large wing-backed chair, its massive size making it more throne than simple seat. Her posture was rigidly upright, her suit dark, severe and perfectly tailored. She was every inch a Prince. It would be best for Simeon to remember that fact.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

Simeon waited, statuesque, as the elevator rose to the higher levels of the Chantry, the Public and Library levels. Wan yellow light cast a sickly glow on the lean, wolfish figure. On his shoulder rested the crow, its black eyes sharp, missing little. The soft ding of alerting him to the knowledge he had reached his destination. As the mechanical doors parted with narry a sound he sauntered through.

A quiet smile played across his lips as he walked towards the study. Arianne was quite beside herself as she tried to explain to her domitor the circumstances. Simeon nodded quietly, listening to her story. He felt a bit annoyed that his Prince and leader had resorted to using petty tricks on his house-servants to get her way, but he let it pass. He'd rather she waste unproductive emotions on his subordinates rather than waste time with him that could be used to settle this, issue.

As Arianne trembled with exhausted release, he extended a soft hand and let it caress her cheek in gentle comfort. His thumb wiped the running mascara from the bottoms of her eyes and he bent down to place a soft kiss upon her forhead, assuring her with murmurs that it was fine, and she had done well. Then he sent her off for the evening to recover.

One could have hardly expected more from a mere ghoul when encountering someone like Natalia. He turned, and his face and body stilled, vestiges of humanity seeming to melt away. He moved with the precise, unnatural grace. His body glided with predatory ease in silence across the carpet. The six ghouls the Prince had for escort were aligned protectively around the door to the chamber.

He moved through them silently, they knew whom he was, and knew better than to challenge him. Elegant fingers extended and, wrapping themselves and the handle, opened the sturdy wooden door. Simeon smiled an intimate, predatory smile. Those brown eyes apparently genuinely pleased as the peirced the distance between them.

He bowed his head, and spoke in a soft tone that carried like iron across the chamber. Easily audible despite its nature, to the powerful woman seated in the chair across from him.

"Prince Natalia, I humbly offer you hospitality while within our poor Chantry. Indeed, it is fortuitous that you should arrive now."

At this he looked up, face stoic, eyes still burning as he elaborated unprompted.

"I have just finished summoning the Primogen Council. We were planning to discuss recent events, and resolve the necessary action to contain the incident. However, as you are here now, we shall be most pleased were you to assume your role and enjoin us at the Elysium."

His voice had maintained perfect decorum, and respect. His posture was unassuming. The intensity behind his unnerving gaze was hidden as he kept his eyes downcast. Everything about his manner carried a clear ring of the humble servant, pleased to have a leader again. It was the iron implications of his carefully crafted words that relayed to the Prince the other message.

He knew Natalia was too intelligent of a leader to risk alienating her powerbase. No Prince in the history of the kindred's existence had been capable of ruling without the support of the Primogen Council. Natalia had already failed to react timely. Her political situation was tenuous. She needed to act accurately, and decisively. Tonight.

That meant knowledge, and it meant unity. If this breach were not handled correctly, then the Anarchs, at the very least, would start trying to get into the media. To show off, or show up. It would be a scandalous nightmare, and end up in something close to another Inquisition. No, Natalia was here to play ball. She needed results, and she didn't have the leverage to bully. The Council could act without her, and the Council could replace her.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Natalia

Natalia could feel the Simeons arrogance as he entered the room. His bowed head and calm demeanor did not hide as much as he assumed. Ever the manipulator, he was a constant source of irritation and conflict. This time, however he had overstepped himself and she would have to act to make sure it did not happen again.

"I have just finished summoning the Primogen Council. We were planning to discuss recent events, and resolve the necessary action to contain the incident. However, as you are here now, we shall be most pleased were you to assume your role and enjoin us at the Elysium."

Her voice was quiet and controlled as she responded to his statement, but there was no question who was Prince, and who was not. She knew about the summons before he spoke. Thankfully not all the clan elders were bent on putting themselves in her position.

and what Elysium would that be? I have not recently declared any area subject to the Pax Vampirica. However, since you have gone to such trouble to summon the others, I will grant your request; your domain will be noted as neutral territory, and in light of recent events I will add a ban on any feeding in the area. The neutrality & hunting restrictions will remain in place until you have conducted your meeting. Unfortunately, you will have to delay the start until I have finished my business with the individual clans. I will notify you when we will convene. Do not expend any more energy to send additional messages. I will personally notify the others of the change in plans.

In spite of his best efforts to remain calm, Natalia could see Simeon tense with fury. He thought to destroy her authority by calling the clans together without her knowledge, did he? She as sure that he would do his best to make her look weak and ineffective. Well, we would see who had the ability to lead and who did not. Their brief meeting concluded, she rose to leave.

Oh, I nearly forgot to mention the other news for the clans. A new Justicar has been appointed. I’m sure you know him, Yves de Chevalier? I’ll expect you to fully cooperate with him as he investigates the recent incident with the American.

Natalia swept past the quiet Elder. Her retainers gathered around her and they quietly left the building. As she climbed into the back of the limousine she gave instructs that the other elders be notified that she would soon be arriving. The young woman sitting in the passenger seat picked up a small cellular phone and placed several calls.

Natalia smiled, there were some aspects of technology that she approved of and the ability to communicate easily was one. Personally, she preferred not to waste her own energy when other options were available. Blood could be so difficult to obtain, especially when ones domain was now off limits to the hunt.

As the car pulled away from the curb the last call was made.

"Please inform the Primogen of Clan Gangrel that Prince Natalia will arrive within the hour."

 

[Angelofsex]

Arianne

As I saw him in the hall, I try to explained to him what happen. He understood what I was saying, and also look mad not at me but at what I was saying. He kiss my head, and told me all is well. She in nothing to me, he is the leader of our clan,

I watch as he walk down to her room, till the door closed behind him. Doing the work I had to do, was never far from him. Just didn't trust her, so I stood close by.

When he came out of her room, the look on his face wasn't to good. He look right at me as he continue walking, I never said anything to him. But I felt his deep thought, but didn't voice an opinion. I didn't have the right too.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

Simeon was, dissatisfied. He stayed, still and silent, within the meeting room for a few moments after the Prince's departure. A realization tickling at the back of his mind, and being fully explored carefully. Simeon, like many of his blood, was adept at reading people. Frighteningly, and perhaps even, mystically, adept at reading people.

Quiet lips curled into a wide grin that furthered into a lingering, wicked chuckle. The Prince, he now understood, was afraid of him. It was the only thing that truly made sense. The defensive commentary, petulant displays of temper in the foyer (to a ghoul, no less...), and the acidic delight she took in naming the Tremere's territory Elysium for the duration of the meeting; all added up.

They were all signs of an uncertain, and in fact specifically nervous monarch. Simeon was flattered. Annoyed by the inconvenience, but definitely flattered. It's not every century you find yourself making the Prince uneasy by something as routine as assembling the Primogen Council. It happened frequently, and was a right every council member enjoyed.

What made the situation all the more entertaining, at least for him, was how far from reality those statements were. If he had been looking to surplant Natalia's rule, he'd not have waited two days for her. He'd have waited two hours, and then summoned the council to discuss a plan of action.

In fact, having waited two entire days, letting a second edition of the paper come out in the process, spoke very highly of the city's faith in their leadership. Simeon wasn't so sure anymore. If he could unsettle Natalia as easily as this, then he shuddered to think of what would happen when a real threat presented itself. Images of all out, media-frenzy inter-clan warfare flashed through his mind.

He frowned lightly at the image, shaking the thoughts loose from his mind. Slender fingers extended to the door handle, catching the brass fixture and turning the door open. His mind had already turned to important business, for one preparing the Council Room for guests.

As the tall, lean form reappeared into the hallway, his brown eyes settled on Arianne. She had stayed nearby. A predatory grace kissed his every step. Confidant, assured steps soundlessly passing over the carpeted floor. The dark outfit carving him a place within the shadows of the uncertaing light in the coridoor.

Eos' beaked head flitted from one side to the next, constantly looking about, until those beady, unblinking eyes settled on Arianne's gaze. There the crow hovered a moment, and then gave a raucous cry as it launched off, flying behind its Master, and beyond Arianne to pursue its own task.

As the presence of Eos faded a bit, Simeon reached out with his mind. A firm, possessive nudge and his warmth spilled into Arianne's mind. Like an unexpected desire, awareness of him trickled to fill the back of her conscience. His thoughts virtually purred in gentle sensuality as they beckoned her to attend him.

 

[Angelofsex]

As I watch the crow fly past us, my eyes found his. Feeling the warmness coming from him, I knew to follow him. Well do as he bids me, I am here to satisfied him, protect and honor him.


I know he was busy with his business, but he needed me now. Walking up to him, I look into his eyes, understanding the needs he has. Our bodies just need to be near one another to feel it.

My hands touch his body, as my lips kiss his neck. My mind ask of what does he wish, I am here to please you.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

Soft, warm, moist, pulsing, and intimate was the touch of her lips on the cool surface of his flesh. He felt the warmth of her hand against his stomach; could feel the beat of her heart through her flesh. He heard the soft gasp of her breath, and felt it tickle at his ear. Like shutters on a bright lantern, his eyes closed for a gentle moment. The scent of her lifting to him, a mingled essence of body care products, the fabric of her clothes, and the lingering odors of food she'd had hours before, and the clinging touch of old paper from the books she was about during the day.

His eyes opened again, lips curling like a kitten into a self-satisfid smirk as he looked down into her soft gaze. He felt warm, proud. Her thoughts, as her curves, were beautiful. and he had helped shape both. A possessive hand raised and captured the slender wrist at his neck. Firm lips parting for his agile tongue, peeking only briefly to moisten his mouth before disappearing.

Brown eyes burned with a quiet flame, and a teasing nail led his hand from her wrist down her arm, leaving a trail of goose flesh in its wake. Firm fingers captured her head by the back of her neck, and his thumb joined them after leisurely caressing her cheek. He tilted her head towards him and welcomed her eager lips with a soft growl of desire, kissing her hungrily.

His left hand found itself swallowed in the sensation of sliding from the curve of her shoulder blade, smoothly down her back, to the familiar flair of her hips, his hands warm, and his flesh hot, as life and blood pulsed through him in a newly wantno rush.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

OOC...

Well, it's nice to be getting laid on my birthday, even if it isn't in the flesh.

 

[Angelofsex]

Arianne

As his hands touch me, my body burns for him. My mouth moves from one side to the next on his neck, biting it as I am. Just his touch, my nipples gets hard, waiting for his mouth on them.

My hands removes his cloths almost riping them off him. I stand back and look at my leader, how I want every last bit of him. I strip in front of him, showing my firm breast with my hard nipples. Then when the rest comes off I am totally before with nothing on. My body cries for his touch. I push him down on the bed, with me right on top of him. Looking into his eyes and not saying nothing, he could see the fire in me.

My body lays right on top of him, moving my tongue on his lips, till his mouth opens for me. His tongue enters mine deep as mine in his. Our bodies moving from side to side as we kiss. I pull away fast and let my tongue move down his body. Stopping at the nipples to lick and suck, for they are as hard as mine. Sucking on them like a baby, almost biting them.

Then I continue moving my body down him, until my tongue was on his manhood. I stop and looked at him. My mouth moves fast and takes it all in, deep. Then letting go, I lick the head then the staff up and down it. Tasting his cock, the juices as they flow a little. Then moving my mouth back over it and starts to suck it. Feeling his strength in my mouth, I moan from the feeling.

 

[Felonious Artifice]

Felonious arrives at the Chantry with more than a bit of trepidation. It just seems that holding the Primogen meeting the the Tremere Chantry was a bad idea. Of course, Tremere in general were a bad idea. Except when they let you play with new toys.

Having found an appropriate reason to enter without fear tainting her scent Felonius proceeds.

She is greeted politely, if not a bit standoffishly, by a servant and is shown reluctantly to a waiting room. Having already fed Felonius declines with a sharp shake of head when offered a drink. The servant hovered about so close that Felonious had to ask him repeatedly to please leave.

When finally alone she muses disconsolately about the whole situation. Undoubtedly, she would be blamed for the death of that silly hero. We're always the one's who get fingers pointed at them, she chews her lower lip to shreds heals and does it again.

But this didn't have the taste of a prank, it tasted more of sabbat than anything else. Who else would benefit from breaking the masquerade in such an obvious manner? Not that this was really going to breach anything for long, these things never did. But still... grrr.

Bored with the time passing Felonius eventually gets up and goes exploring. Afterall, she is in the Tremere Chantry with the perfect excuse.

Before she had gotten very far she hears her favorite sounds. A grin of pure lust breaks out on her face for a moment before it is tucked back away into its box. Taking out her handy little polaroid she sets out in search of the source.

She comes to a door and silently opens it, taking a picture as soon as she has a good enough view.

Her smile softened to mere amusement greets the surprised couple. "Could you tell me if the local mystical top dog is about?" Though it is obvious to her that there is only one vampire in this room.

Not a bad catch either.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

Her lips were like molten lust. A tight, hungered cushion that in turns both gripped and guided the pulsing hot flesh of his burgeoning dick into her mouth. A long slender hand slipped down, fingers burying themselves into the main of soft hair, gripping it firmly as his cock twitches excitedly to her administrations.

Her scent filled his brain with each breath his lungs now took. Deep, controlled, hungry panting echoed from his throat, her normal odor now caked in the vestiges of carnal need, a need he was gratifying. Strong fingers tightened and his hips began to take an active interest in his dick's well being.

They started to thrust. Simeon rose in a smooth, clean fashion, keeping Arianne's head centered on those hungry activites that he was enjoying. He began to fuck that tight face, pumping the silkened iron of his shaft in a regular, familiar rhythm. His mind swallowed hers, shattering into her thoughts with a rush, filling her senses with his pleasure, the pleasure of taking her.

When the door crashed open he frowned. His concentration was broken and his presence vanished from Arianne's mind in a harsh vacuum. The sudden loss leaving things cold and lonely by comparison. Still erect, his cock slipped from the confused ghoul's lips and sprang to slap lightly against his well-toned stomach.

Brown eyes froze over into an arctic glare. His arms were still, and he watched her take her photo. The red haze of a blood fury descending slowly, and then swifter, its need for blood fast becoming his only drive, when the poor, foolish whore spoke. The world stopped.

His mind cracked and every detail become minute, perfect. The heat of the rage had fled before this storm. Muscles rippled beneath his warm skin as his arm raised, a sharp motion sending the camera smashing aside. The polaroid device turning to ash before it had passed five feet. In the same heartbeat his mind lunged forward and grabbed the bitch.

With a harsh mental stroke he flung her back into wall, slamming her once, and then slamming her again and then leaving her pinned. Again muscles whispered beneath skin as he walked to the large, recliner, and sat back, looking across the room and up at the miscreant who'd just made a terrible, terrible mistake.

 

[Angelofsex]

Arianne

As I feel he is enjoying this, my fire made me take him deeper in me. Just as his thrust got harder, the door open. His cock came out of my mouth and we were both by her.


I stood by her, as my leader took care of her. A vampire, our need for food. Taking her body, I lift her and put her on the table and tied her up.

Standing by her as to watch nothing would happen to my master, my eyes and mouth got hungry looking at her. I was on her ripping her cloths off. The body so beautiful, to bad she is a vampire. I lick my tongue, not moving till I hear my master telling me.

 

[Felonious Artifice]

Felonious hangs from the wall as if nailed there. Her slim arms held above her head taunt as if she had been tied into a rack. The rest of her stretched into a nearly painful line. The sword tatoo partially revealed the rose etching along the blade as it rose to meet the seem of her closed legs. The tail of a tiger curling around her left shoulder blade promised a full color portrait on her back. Eat at Joes still plastered on her abdomen. And below her head she was completely hairless. Her left nipple pierced by a hematite barbell.

Hitting the table wasn't that bad. It reminded Felonious of her embrace, back when she was really impolite and entirely innocent of the dangers lurking down dark alleys. Time, damnable thing, had mellowed her out. Being further thrown and plastered to the wall wasn't even bad. Felonious rather enjoyed the sensation of suspension, not to mention the memories of other times backed up against rough concrete. She allowed herself a to enjoy that for a moment, each slam against the wall bearing the promise of harder things to come.

She was brought out of her reverie by the oh so alive sound of ripping leather. "I thought this was the Tremere Chantry shouldn't you have better manners than that?" Felonious purred catching the ghoul's eyes. "You know dear, it looks like you could use a good cum. Why don't you go fix yourself now?" Heat poured out of Felonious searching for and finding her target, all those built up sensations that were nearly dead in herself but ready in an instant to be transfered as she chose.

Watching the ghoul's reaction brought a lump of envy to Felonious' throat. If only she could be infused with such massive desire, to feel her body rocking against nothing but the sensations in her brain. Sigh... Oh well, back to business.

With a final glance at her useless trenchcoat Felonious turned her attention to her captor, careful not to look at his face. Instead she looked at the lean planes of his chest, the scuplting of his arms and legs, the way the muscles moved under the flesh. Her breath catching just a little in the back of her throat, "Felonious Artifice, Malkavian Primogen, just arrived and had messages saying to come here. So I did."

Felonious waits a moment for any signs of his reaction then hurries on.

"Wouldn't have normally come bursting in on you. Well maybe I would now, but not before. Most assuredly not before. Thought you were one of those typical magician types, all books and no play." Felonious titters with just a touch of hysteria. Straight vamps, i.e. not malkavians, tended to be suspicious when a malkavian wasn't talking to walls or laughing at the jokes in their heads. Felonious' eyes had taken on a dreamy softness as she contemplated the possibilities. "Boy oh boy, i'm gonna have to check out the library more often. Just think of the fun I could have.... oh... damn..." Damn, she thought to herself, one glimpse and tumble into a wall and she was getting all distracted. She closes her eyes for a few minutes concentrating on the least appealing images she can come up with, unaware that she is muttering their names as they come to her.

"Baseball, buckets of heaping stinking refuse, fish eyes, empty picture frames..."

Once in her right mind again she looks at the pale moon shaded expanse of his chest, tracing the paths of his pores down to his stomache and lower.

"I really must get someone to understand that WE didn't do it! Well maybe some poor misguided soul left to his own devices. I have to admit that we aren't all as cognitive as I. But anyways, it's obviously the Sabbat trying to break the masquerade again. I mean why choose a war hero? There's not many of them left these days... not that there were that many to begin with... Well maybe there were more before... but that's besides the point. You've got to believe me, I know that I didn't kill him!." Felonious stares pleadingly into his chest. Her voice had risen with sincerity until it was nearly cracking at the end of her speach and came out feather soft.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

-:|OOC|:- Hey, sorry if this isn't up to my usual par, I was a bit fuddle-headed with exhaustion.

-:|IC|:-
If he had handed her a shovel, he didn't think she could have dug a deeper hole. Cold eyes burned with intensity, and knowledge. It took no concentration to see the msytic shifting planes of her mind and soul. The patterns of color that told him a story about her. He watched it with interest. He saw that she beleived what she as saying, well, most of it, and saw also that the entire thing was turning the trollop on.

A wicked smirk curled those firm lips, the expression all the more frightening for his silence. A moment breathed in stillness. Her voice babbled incessantly, but he was ignoring her. Instead he rose, the movement lithe, graceful, predatory. Unclothed feet made no sound as he sliced the distance between them with a step. His eyes traipsed like scouts over her body, inspecting it carefully. He could see the swollen nipples, straining as they rest upon heavy breasts.

He followed the curve down between her breasts, eyes dripping like wax over her stomach. Felonious found herself spun to the face the wall, slowly, and he admired the lean curve from her thigh to the pert ass. He noded to himself as he inhaled, breathing in the evidence of her lust. Apparently she hadn't died everywhere during her embrace...

Simeon reaches out a hand, skin hot, and rests it on the intruder's thigh, running his hand up and down the smooth flesh lightly, lowering her form down to bring her ass in line with his hand, nails raking a light, red line. As the full curve finds itself even with his fingers, his palm lands with a harsh sound against her ass.

He raises her back up as he turns around, wrenching her thighs wide apart and leaving her exposed, her arms pulled from her sides and crossed behind her, forcing her back to arch, and her breasts to jut out.

Simeon settled down, admiring his handiwork a moment before his voice reached out and filled the room again, capturing Arianne's attention as she recovered from the intense, mind-induced orgasm.

"You have violated my haven, tramp. You have abused my ghouls, and my hospitality. And now you insult me. You're a whore, a silly, filthy trollop, who's about to serve in place of my ghoul, as punishment for your interruption."

With that he settles back. The force holding Felonious moves, taking her with it. The Malkavian finds herself rotated face down and pinned against the small table in the room, hips pressed uncomfortably into the wooden edge. Her ankles suddenly locked in place against the table's legs, leaving her tart ass in the air, exposing that visibly moistened pussy.

"Arianne, you've free reign with her until I tell you otherwise..."

 

[Felonious Artifice]

As Felonious is spun and twisted about the tiger on her back is revealed, stretching lazily down her back to her lower right hip.

"You have violated my haven, tramp. You have abused my ghouls, and my hospitality. And now you insult me. You're a whore, a silly, filthy trollop, who's about to serve in place of my ghoul, as punishment for your interruption."

As if a switch had been flipped her earlier nervous chatter ceases.

Now balanced on a knifes edge she waits for her punishment to begin. Blood? Mutilation? These were the best she could hope for. Perhaps death even awaited her, as unlikely as it seemed in her current, though tenuous, situation.

Humiliation surged, flushing her cheeks, forcing her starving blue eyes behind their lids for fear of the disdain she would see. Shame ran through her body in hot short bursts, leaving her hypersensitive to even the most minute changes in the air. How often had she courted the sweet kiss of oblivion in order to feed this unquenchable thirst? She twists and turns as far as allowed by that iron grip, unsure of herself. Inadvertantly arousing herself more as her breasts are slid back and forth against the table. How many times would she be broken by her own twisted mind into little more than a quivering beast?

These thoughts passed quickly as her dementia took further control. A hunger not unlike that of blood lust building in slow serpentine twists with each change of air. A hunger old enough to remember her needs as kine, and is still unsatisfied. Time passes with little more than the barest of breezes and the varnished hardwood table to stimulate her. "Please, please, please" rose up to fill her tight throat stopped by her savagely bitten lower lip almost but not quite breaking the skin.

The promise of the ghoul's ministrations, gentle or not, brought Felonious to a heightened awareness of her presence. Though she could not see the woman she felt her presence, a feather light tickling that roved delicately around Felonious' back. When the woman does make her move, Felonious is unable to keep from straining her body in the woman's direction. Futility finally putting an end to Felonius' internal struggle.

You stupid pet, Felonious thinks about herself, when will you learn that you can't judge these things. The last of her flimsy restraint used up she is consumed by the hunger that burns along her flesh in ever stronger waves. An ocean of hunger with no release in sight, and no hope for ever attaining it. "Please, please, please" she chants, barely audible to herself.

 

[Angelofsex]

Arianne

Oh my did he tell me to enjoy myself? Looking at this beautiful body in front of my, my mouth starts to water. My nose sniffs her scent, getting down on my knees, my tongue likes her feet. I love it. I turn her to face me, letting her see everything.

Then moving my tongue up her leg to her thigh, licking between her clit and her leg. Moving to her inner part, the part that makes her moan. The tongue going deeper in her, as her hips move. Seeing how wet she is, my fingers takes over as my tongue moves on.

Stopping for a minute, I smell the scent of her being scare. My mouth cames to her nipples, and my tongue was licking them. Then my mouth move over them and started to suck them hard. This taste of sex was enjoyable to me now.

Now Bitch, I am going to sit on your face you will enjoy me. I got you going, but now I have stoped. She is to please me, I have tease her, but no more. Now she has to do what I say. Make me cum, bitch now

 

[Felonious Artifice]

Every inch of Felonious' body aches; aches for touch like the deep thrumming of a good bass beat in a night club. Falling into the terribly familiar rythms of tease, please, tease. The room around fades in her mind, even the vampire who at that moment could be plotting further punishments had faded from her mind. Only her mistress mattered, her mistress needed her. Words ran through her mind, words with a faintly disquieting sense that they hadn't been hers. All pleasure is gained through giving, be sure that your master or mistress knows this. But this too flees from her mind.

Felonious grins wide, fangs bared, while partially hidden by her mistress' exquisitely shaped cunt. Her arms twine in a cat-like rub up Arianne's legs finally anchoring Felonious into place. Her fingers alternately rubbing and then tickling Arianne's tight ass down to just the top of her legs. Felonious' pink tongue pokes out briefly in swift touches that swirl air more than skin. Without warning she wraps her mouth around Arianne's clit biting so gently that not a hair is misplaced, then kissing thoroughly. Arianne can feel Felonious' fangs retracting, a slight tickling only heightening the overall pleasure. Expert flicks tap Arianne's clit in a stacatto beat, her tongue a gentle rasping before moving lower.

Exploring lower with her tongue Felonious follows the already honeyed trail to its source. She circles Arianne's vagina with her tongue randomly sliding further in and then, almost before Arianne can register it, out again. Not to let any pressure up, as Felonious knows all to well the disappointments of interrupted orgasm and couldn't stand the thought of disappointing, Felonious rubs her nose against her mistress' clit the entire time with well practiced ease.

Almost like a buzzing in the back of her head Felonious feels Arianne's growing desire. Completely in thrall of her dementia she doesn't even hesistate to make that one little change to give her mistress every pleasure that she can. Felonious' little pink tongue thins as it lengthens; never once missing a beat, still slipping in and out of her mistress only now going deeper than was possible before. So deep in fact that Felonious caresses, tastes, every wall of her mistresses hungry darkness. If Arianne is surprised by this Felonious has no way of knowing as she is consummed.

Feeling the stiffening begining in her mistresses back as well as the slight weakening of her knees; Felonious grips her mistress even tighter, fingers nearly claws, while pushing her face even deeper into her dripping pussy. As her mistress rocks with orgasm Felonious once more uses her little mind trick to double the pleasure. Felonious continues to hold her bucking mistress in place past the first screams of orgasm. Felonious delights in the sensation of her mistress' quivering vagina clamping around her snakes tongue. Past the second screams as her mistress' legs collapse so that only Felonious' will keeps her up. As her mistress is in the grips of a third and final orgasm Felonious has managed, without breaking stride or obvious difficulty, to gently lay her out on the floor next to the table. With a final impudent twitching of her tongue that send after shocks of pleasure through out her mistress' body Felonious removes herself.

Licking her mistress' juices from her face and lower down her neck with her long forked tongue Felonious falls into a submissive stance. Her legs curled beneath her, the sword just a bare line of color. Her hands held in her lap, still as though they had never moved. Her back a straight line with her head bowed and eyes turned toward her hands. Her every straight hair streams in long shining blue streaks, her left eye completely covered by the bright shock of silver hair in front.

But she is not looking at herself, she is watching her mistress recover out of the corner of her eye, admiring both her mistress' curves and the evidence of her own handy work. For once her voice comes out completely self assured and relaxed, "Have I pleased you mistress?"

 

[Angelofsex]

Arianne

As I feel her mouth on me, my desire grew. Looking at my leader watching us has me wanting to please him as I am getting please.
His eyes are shining and the look on his face , could tell he is enjoying it.

All I want is to cum for her, for I feel it is for him. Her tongue is magic as it goes deeper in me. Moaning as she has me cuming for her. My orgasm is making my body shake, my legs are getting weaker as she holds unto me. Pushing my cunt deeper into her face.

After my second orgasm, I didn't know if I could take anymore. Wanted to move off her, but the desire was still there. Finally after the thrid on, she let me go. She asked me if she please me, after three orgasms I would say so.

"Yes you did well, this time. Now we shall see what is to become of you."

 

[Felonious Artifice]

Felonious slowly begins to realize that something is wrong. Mistress' breathing had slowed; expected, but this went beyond normal rest. Hardly a breath in a minutes time. Confusion and fear warred in her mind. Mistress was vampire was she not? There had been so many that tried before kindred and kine blurred in her memory completely interchangeable. Vampires didn't usually die on her, though sometimes the very young did. She had been quite sure that she'd felt something vampiric. Most likely she wouldn't have woken up so completely if there hadn't been one around. Unsatisfied with her viewpoint and morbidly fascinated she leans out to get a better look. The breathing stops.

Sure enough, mistress had the taste of vampire, she was a ghoul. Felonious is so caught up with the plight of her poor mistress that she doesn't notice the silent man behind her. She doesn't have the thought, why would a ghoul alone wake me?

Instead she pulls mistress' corpse into her arms, cuddling her like a child's doll. Lightening strikes of anguish unfurled inside of her, not a sob rose in her. None had since Jeremy, such a beautiful little goth with only his collar and darkened eyes. No tears to paint her cheeks red either as those had stopped with Camela, she with the smokey eyes that glowed with the hues of blood and taught Felonious tongue tricks. Nor any futile attempts to save mistress' life, Felonious had been too slow. She always was in these cases, unable to think clearly enough to react, tormented by her selfish desire to live despit being in the midst of all the destruction that came with it.

For some time Felonious simply rocks back and forth with her mistress' body murmuring, "now I lay me down to sleep, pray the lord my soul to keep, if I should die before I wake, pray the lord my soul to take". The words sounded hollow, bitter, like shards of glass hungry for the trash compactor.

It had been proven to her long ago that suicide was a pointless venture, and in her case fraught with disappointment. She had better clean things up before someone came to see what the ruckus had been, Felonious thought fretfully. Someone always came, whether it be a clueless mortal or a masquerade enforcer. She looks around the room for anything of use only to find herself staring straight at a man. She squinted as there was something odd about his aura, he felt like a vampire. But she had thought mistress was a vampire too, it could be possible her sense were dulling as the length of time between her wakenings grew.

Suddenly shy, her body trembling ever so slightly, she clutches mistress' body to her like a shield. "I didn't mean to, honest. Please, don't kill me. But I won't blame you, if you do." Her voice trying, and failing miserably, to sound matter of fact, but only succeeding to sound lost, broken.

For the first time since her wakening with her mistress' death she feared the return of the fog of anger, hunger that would descend upon her. How did she survive when like that, Felonious shuddered to think.

 

[Felonious Artifice]

Time, precious liquid pearl time, was passing with the two of them frozen there. Felonious imagined she heard her heart beating somewhere about her throat, but slipped out of it as the man sat inert. He was the reason she had woken so completely, there was no one else in the room. Felonious had scanned the room as thoroughly as inhumanly possible shortly after her epiphany that the man was not going to get up. There were things to do and too little time to do them in. A corpse to dispose of; her chest lifted in a sigh, evidence linking her to the ghoul's death, which would take time as she would have to gather all of the servants; figure out if he knew who she was and if she could possibly edit his memory as well.

Felonious hid mistress' body reverently behind a sofa, she placed a light kiss upon mistress' cool rose petal lips. Then assuming a forced mask of boredom assumed mistress' form. It was difficult as she did not want to assume mistress' form. Her mental image of mistress would fade from her eye, mixing and matching with parts of all her lovers. Making a mockery of mistress form in this way made things in her head twitch unpleasantly. But there was no other choice.

Running silently she snuck out the room. She searched out a single servant, ordered him to follow, and then they retreated to the room again. Once there she bent his mind to her will; and, after much testing, sent him to fetch another. She finally had freedom to drop her mistress' mask, and she did so as soon as she was sure of her temporary minions obeidence. Time passes. Finally she has the remaining servants gathered in the room. With brisk mental flicks to keep them in line she had them set about cleaning. The first to go was mistress, but Felonious accompanied them after leaving strict orders regarding the disposal of her items.

Felonious followed the ghoul deep into the chantry. Perhaps it wasn't that deep, her perceptions were easily warped by her mood and as far as she could tell she was walking inside death. The ghoul appeared sallow cheeked and haggard, looking at her with barely contained anger. They walked along a dark hallway, reminiscent of abandoned castles and smelling faintly of decay. When they finally reached the fireplace, Felonious had no idea where she was now, it roared in her ears. She looked up and was surrounded by flame, paralyized she stands caught between mourning and agony. She takes a tentative step forward, not quite into the fire, then jumps back yelping slightly as the flames swell as if reaching for her.

She stands mistress up kissing her once more, this time on her forehead. She moves to whisper hurriedly into mistress' ear, "You've been set free, rejoice you will not be bound in flesh, the serpent was at your foot and you unaware, your sins be washed away." When Felonious moves back there is a single pink tear streak down her cheek, but the tear is long gone.

Then she orders the now puzzled ghoul to dispose of the body and guide her out. "Tell me of your master and his woman." I say, wrestling the words out of my throat so feebly such that I had to repeat myself. Simeon, Arianne, primogen. I had them stop there, it was already bad enough. All I needed to hear now was that his grandsire is a doting archon.

Once having returned to the room, I poke through my things. Disgusting the trashy things her sleeper wore, awake Felonious prefered no clothes. Why bother when you can imagine anything you want and wear it? Luckily she would not have to wear any of these things as they were torn beyond repair, the dust of her camera was there as was the picture she had taken. Knowing they had to be there somewhere, she searched the pockets and found the rest of her polaroids, car keys, etc.. She quickly added the newest picture to the top as if afraid of seeing the ones below.

Then she joined the ghoul who once more travelled to the mysterious fireplace. And once more she was unable to dispose of the evidence herself, though this time the flames did not reach for her quite to hungrily. Well sated they are, she thought acidly to herself.

And finally they returned. Felonious quickly wipes for prints one last time herself, certain that if her control had faded one of them would try something. Feeling that she had done everything she could she turned to all but one of the ghouls and edited their memories and left orders to do nothing in their rooms for an hour. Then she turned to him.

"Simeon, I am truly sorry for what has happened. I am cursed your see, a thing of darkness that spreads its vileness through innocence to consume it in all that may approach. I bear the torment of having taken your lady's soul from thee. But fear not, for though your lady is no longer within thy arms she has been accepted into the arms of the lord. Death to those of our ilk is more blessing than curse." As she speaks her voice takes on a bit of an english accent, but definitely not modern english. Felonious reaches out a hand and draws a tracery of the cross on Simeon's head, kisses it, then leans to whisper into his ear once more. "Forget thy pain dread lord, seek out light to burn thy darkness dead, and know thou art truly a jewel among death's treasures." Unable to know if this would work, Felonious reaches out to bend Simoen's mind to her will. To wipe out his memory of her completely.

As she slips out of the Chantry she breaths a sigh of relief. But it's not until she several miles down the road before the twitching in her back lets up. She stops at an empty fast food parking lot; and takes the pictures out of the glove compartment, where she had stashed them upon her hasty retreat.

"Oh Simeon, thou hast captured the heart of darkness which will surely lead to thy doom. If I mayest turn mine own path... but that would lead to purgatory. God! why must I leave such misery at my passing?" Felonious cries out with such self-loathing you could see her sitting at a sink with a razor blade in hand.

Shuffling through the pictures, her heart aching in a different way for each of her lovers, Felonious fell asleep.

 

[Ecclesiastic Jack]

-<:|[OOC]|:>-
I'm sorry for the delay. I wish I could wind the clock back and do things as I had originally intended, or at least written a decent way out of it for everyone. But I'm back, and hopefully in style.



-<:|[IC]|:>-
The light in the room slowly burned out. Candles bled like so many carcases as the flame consumed all that was fuel. Polished silver sticks made eerie shadows in the darkness. Melted lumps disfigured the elegant lines and delicate craftsmanship. The desk sat there, proud, displaying the congealing fluid atop it without shame, or indication. Simeon sat there, inert, and brooding with furniture for a companion. One cheek was pushed against the knuckles on his lean fist, sharp eyes staring straight ahead thoughtfully.

The day caught him thus, and all through the sedation of sunlit hours, he sat in the chilled darkness of the windowless, spartan room. An empty bed, and the dusting corpse of his ghoul, dear Arianne. She had been with him for some time. It was unfortunate, what had happened to her. Still, larger puzzles were about. She had a serpent's tongue. That disrespectful, impetuous brat who had disturbed him, had a serpent's tongue. The very idea of it set his mind whirring.

Night kissed the outer sky, and soon the lethargy of his rest passed. His body was again blessed with animation and control. He rose, gathering the few salvageable garments left from Arianne's lust. Pale ivory skin gathered the light about it like a shroud, and his muscles rippled beneath that skin as he moved. Unadorned, Lord Grey left the guest's quarters. Twin yellow globes gave form to the sleek outline of a black cat, as it lept from the shadows onto the floor.

A smile wandered over his lips and melted into a quiet intent. Simeon walked to his rooms, in the catacombes beneath the chantry. None marked his passage, though none would have spoken if they had. In this house, there was but one master.

It took very little time to clean and dress. For his outfit, he had chosen tonight a black turtle neck, and a dark grey pair of slacks. Muted black wingtips complimented the cuffed pants, and mathed the dull leather belt at his hips. Over the basic ensemble he settled for a black sports coat, and a rich brown fur overcoat, with matching hat and gloves.

The warm coat was important, especially during this weather. It was always more difficult to maintain the masquerade during the colder seasons. But wearing thick clothing, and smoking while out doors worked with amazing ease. It was for that purpose that he brought along the pack of cloves, and lighter. Five minutes after the last rite completed, and the last item deposited in his pocket, a sleek black sedan pulled out into the light evening traffic...