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Prince Amy O'Connor
Prince

Prince

The V i c e r e i n e of Violence.

Posts: 513

Welcoming Friends Home [Invite] Jul 21, 2016 17:59:19 GMT

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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Jul 21, 2016 17:59:19 GMT

The overly long limo arrived just in front of the two-story grand manor home the O'Connors had occupied for quite some time. The building was in exquisite shape, surrounded by grass and memorable statues, all maintained by the retainers and those in the Ventrue employ. In the back was a garden, but that was Amy's; people rarely bothered going there. It would be more accurate to say that people were rarely welcomed there, and that very few were willing to risk the wrath of the frosty Prince.

Two guards stood just outside of the wrought iron gate, meant to keep any curious wanderers and creatures of Acadia at bay. They were both armed and perfectly still; it would be easy to misconstrue them as statues themselves if not for the thumping of their very human hearts. As Alec opened the door and the Victorian clad Prince slipped free, both guards raised their hands in salute. It seemed to go unnoticed as she waited, patiently, for her guest to follow her out of the vehicle.

Using English, the common dialect of the area, once more, she calmly explained to him, "Welcome to my home, Mister de Romanius. Inside, you will find a fully stocked bar, as well as employees prepared to handle whatever needs you may have. I am certain that my husband awaits us inside, though I've mentioned to the Primogen of my Court that I am not to be bothered this eve." Finn hadn't handled that well, but she knew he would respect her request. As insane as he was, he did truly care for Amy like she was his own.

"Alec, make certain the car is parked in its proper place. I am going to go ahead and lead Mister de Romanius in." The youthful retainer nodded his head in silence, offering a slight bow from his waist to both of the people before him, and returned to the limo. Amy waited only a moment longer before turning her focus back to her new ally and partner.

"Shall we?"

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Mikhail de Romanius
Applicant

Posts: 14

Welcoming Friends Home [Invite] Aug 19, 2016 0:13:00 GMT

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Post by Mikhail de Romanius on Aug 19, 2016 0:13:00 GMT

One thing about certain clans always stood out with the old man, Ventrue’s and Torries always kept the most impressive abodes; of course in his mind nothing they owned could compare to the villa. Oh how he yearned to be within its marble embrace, that aside the mind’s eye stretched far and wide across the expanse of the estate; feeling for each and every soul that kept within the structure. A dark brow rose as Amy spoke, her welcome was kind but somewhat generic; of course the old man gave a soft smile then a nod that followed suit; glancing between her and the Kine that kept her company.

The tongues tip clicked against a single fang, offering his best “I won’t eat you” smile; those slender digits reaching into the lining of his suit jacket. Those digits in which free gave a come hither motion to the male, still fishing around for that certain something. “I keep forgetting your boss’s rules but if I remember correctly….” With that was a pause, the old man held out a small yet ornate twenty two automatic; giving in over the Kine. “Not like I need it but old habits, be a lamb and escort me to the bar will you?” A wink had been conveyed in a manner most playful, freeing a cigarette and lighter; making motion to light up swiftly so.

Prince Amy O'Connor
Prince

Prince

The V i c e r e i n e of Violence.

Posts: 513

Welcoming Friends Home [Invite] Sept 15, 2016 16:40:27 GMT via mobile

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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Sept 15, 2016 16:40:27 GMT

Each step placed was practiced, or as well practiced as a human could hope to accomplish. As the Carpathian summoned him, Alec moved as quickly as he could while maintaining the expected grace. Float, don't flounder, he silently demanded of himself, nervousness making it far more difficult for him to manage his own lanky frame. Still, despite the emotional turmoil, a genuine and almost boyish smile continued to grace his lips. He truly did enjoy working for Amy O'Connor, but the few times she allowed him to escort her offered a brief glimpse into the World the Kindred lived in. That was the world with all of his friends, the family he had built. The glimpse was all he needed to know that there was still... something: something better than the mundane.

Just as the word echoed, leaving a trail of bad taste, he held out a hand to, as carefully as he could manage, take the ornate firearm from their guest. Lifeless and abnormally cold against the raised temperature of his very-much-alive skin, he felt nothing but a sense of revolution and discomfort carrying the weapon. It was easy to recall times when people offered him their personal arsenal to handle, and not once had he responded with such force.

Killer. Killer.

Alec visibly shuddered at the first two as they echoed quietly across his mind. Progressively, every few repetitions, the word grew louder, and continued as he respectfully led the way towards the wooden bar, freshly polished and very recently replaced. The retainer made sure to move at a reasonable pace, despite the desperate need to rid himself of the gun.

Only when he stumbled just beside a chair did he realize how far he had walked; the entire first floor of the manor had been crossed without word or bumping into somebody. Grabbing ahold of the jacket sleeve of yet another of Amy's human staff, the words that passed between were spoken too low for even the supernatural to hear. One of the detrimental circumstance of such an open area; if one is aware of the ways around it, the echo can be used to distort the actual words as well. Alec seemed to have mastered that particular skill.

Passing the gun off to the older man, who smiled and lightly pat his shoulder before wandering towards the Arsenal hall, Alec was finally able to focus his bright blue eyes on the Carpathian guest once more. The distortion had robbed him of Amy's location, but the violent pull of her blood told him she was with her husband and all was well. Steadying himself with a breath, the retainer lightly rubbed the palm of his hand, where the gun had rested. It hurt but he tried not to wince.

"I apologize for my abrupt behavior; that was quite rude of me! Please, Mister de Romanius, what can I get you to drink? Perhaps a glass of wine will serve proper penance for those of my skills that continue to... flounder?" Finn's manic voice repeated the lesson of the madman in his head, albeit in a far more tolerable way than the gun.

Float, don't flounder.

Biography