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Post by Thomas Powell on Mar 8, 2016 5:35:09 GMT
The night was still young as Thomas crept his way through Venture territory. Comfortable in his own skin as it were, he made little effort to physically hide himself. Not while he was obfuscated. Mortals and their ilk simply moved to the side to avoid him, their eyes sliding right past him. More than one tasty looking morsel had crossed his path on his way to introduce himself to the new prince. But he was able to restrain himself from partaking in this cities delicacies for the time being. It would not due to have his first act be to display rudeness and potentially make enemies in what he hoped would be his new home away from home. Several of his acquaintances had warned him that the Prince of this city could have a... fiery temperament if wronged. So it was wise to stay on her good side. Or better yet, escape all notice beyond this night. For the time being at least.
The travel through the city was almost peaceful to him. But then again, it always was at first. In a new city brimming with life and knowledge yet untapped. Sights yet unseen. Sights that would be impossible to see had he remained a mortal. Something that even his long dead heart could find room to be thankful for. Sights like the glowing signs of light were worth the wait to see, and he could only marvel at the lengths that mortals could go to in order to overcome their shortcomings. He was excited to see what they would come up with next. For he would be there, waiting in the shadows until the Dark Father and the Last Daughter of Eve passed judgement on them all.
When he finally approached the manor that was home to his new Prince he carefully made his way inside, slowing his stride down to what felt like a snails pace as he allowed his eyes to wander. Looking at possible points of interest and entrance. Or other security measures. Not that intended to use them, but then again he didn't intend to not use them. Either way, it never hurt to be aware of one's surroundings for a sneaky entrance could also be made into a quick exit should the need arise. Once he was sure that he was out of the sight of any mortal that may accidentally catch a glimpse of him he allowed his obfuscation to drop gradually. Thus he seemed to fade back into existence rather than pop. After all the goal was to make himself known, not to give the appearance of a threat, or someone that meant to due harm. For that was quite low on his list of priorities.
He wouldn't go past any posted guards before fading back into existance. Rather he would appear before them, bending his creaking back and bringing his arm up over his heart in a bow.
"I humbly request an audience with The Prince of Nagasaki."
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 8, 2016 23:20:30 GMT
The manor was a large, warm looking building that stood in the middle of a busy, Nagasaki street. It glowed with warm, yellow light, welcoming the creatures of the night that did not have anywhere else to go. The courtyard was eerily empty, however, shadows cast off the single fountain and multiple trees, all hiding the upper windows from any curious eyes. A cast iron fence surrounded the entirety of the building, separating it from the general public. Perhaps a few of the Kine should be concerned, but the historical home had been a part of Nagasaki life for so long, it faded from their immediate perception.
One guard stood on either side of the doors to the gate, dressed in a uniform similar to militaristic fatigues. Hats hid their faces from the taller man's view, even as they turned their chins up at his appearance. One carried a rifle and his fingers wrapped tight around the barrel. The other held a simple piece of technology in one hand: a remote control with three different colored buttons.
Neither startled obviously as the stranger appeared. Working for a Kindred meant that you saw strange things every evening, and each guard was trained to remain stoic and unaffected by whatever they witnessed. The Camarilla Traditions were enforced to whatever degree their Prince believed in, and Amy O'Connor was not known for her kindness. The two shared a single look, most likely balancing their options through a silent conversation, understood only by the two. Eventually, the one with the gun offered the tiniest of nods.
The second guard turned his attention back to the stranger. "Prince Amy O'Connor welcomes you to her home. Do remember that she holds Elysium within these walls." He pressed the blue button and the gates would swing open, allowing the Nosferatu entrance. A smooth path of rocks would lead him to the door, and just within the door, a large greeting room decorated like any good home might be, with plush furniture and potted plants. Framed artwork hung on the tan walls, breaking the monotony of the warm, brown color scheme Amy had chosen.
A simple bar stood off to one side, a Toreador woman standing just behind the counter. She looked up at the man, startling obviously at his appearance. As far as she understood it, there were no expected guests. Amy and her husband were still downstairs, most likely training for the impending war, as they had taken to doing. The other people within the walls were humans, most bound to one of the O'Connors. There was only one, a man with shaggy brown hair who wore a well-pressed tuxedo, that dared to sit at the bar. He looked up as well, but it was the Toreador who spoke.
"W-Welcome," she said, forcing a smile across her pretty, delicate features. "Welcome to Nagasaki! I am Cho Kido, Harpy of the City." She motioned towards the eight bar stools before her, welcoming him to take a seat, should he wish it. "Can I get you something to drink?"
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Post by Thomas Powell on Mar 11, 2016 1:44:43 GMT
He paid everything a lot of mind. Everything from how brightly lit the room was to the body language of the mortals and others in the room. Especially taking note of how many mortals seemed to be in a safe haven for his kind. Far to many for his taste, unless they were to be on the menu. Other than that most mortals were terrible company to keep, flighty whelps stuck in there short, shallow, pointless lives. Only slightly better off than them in terms of flightiness were the Toreador. Hedonistic children who squandered their gifts in the shallowness of beauty. Pride was the sin they often wore, pride not of merit or deed but of appearances. Shallow, and small to the last of them believing the world wished to have what they had, never seeming to realize that the only thing about them worth envying was their beauty.
True to form the Toreador seemed dumbfounded by his appearance. Lacking in professionalism and grace when dealing with the unexpected it painted a rather unflattering picture of the Prince's taste of help. Elysium or not, those designated toward keeping it ought to have a level of grace about them. Though hearing that she was a Harpy made a degree of sense. If there was one thing you can put a Toreador to use doing without them mucking it up, it would be gossiping. But appearances must be kept, and his never did any favors for him. So with an air of composure about himself he'd place a hand over his chest and offer the Harpy a small bow, but opting to remain standing.
"I have come to introduce myself to The Prince. I humbly ask that she be made aware of my presence. "
Poor first impressions of this Prince aside, she still was the Prince. And thus was deserving of some level of respect and courtesy, lest he wound up on the wrong end of a Blood Hunt.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 11, 2016 2:33:29 GMT
The Toreador woman stared at him as he bowed slowly, trying to maintain some degree of composure despite his disturbing, disgusting appearance. Why anyone would allow such a Kindred to exist, for all eternity at that, was completely beyond her. Had she been cursed by Absimiliard, she would have taken a sunbath the night she woke. There was nothing she could imagine as terrible as looking like that creature. Cho managed not to shudder, turning back to her bottles of booze.
She poured herself a low ball glass of scotch, the amber liquid tinted with the tell-tale crimson of vitae. It made it digestible for the Kindred that couldn't eat food, an old trick that the previous Scourge had taught her, years prior, when Nagasaki was a young city. "Oh, trust me," she told the man with a tense smile, hiding her teeth behind the crystalline glass. "She already knows of your presence here."
It was a mysterious thing to say, but no silver-haired woman came from the downstairs. Amy took extra time to prepare herself for visitors, and if she and her husband were both planning to be present, it would take a few extra minutes. Cho took a sip of her beverage before continuing her statement. "The Prince and her husband are currently downstairs. They have not yet joined us for the evening, but if you have any requests or questions, I would love to help you." A lie, but the woman was an excellent liar. It came with her Clan and title.
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Post by Thomas Powell on Mar 11, 2016 2:47:51 GMT
He was skeptical of anything that anyone said in the Camarilla as a rule. They were by the large political scheming, self serving, short sighted pretenders. Though they were pretenders that had sweeping influence and have survived for quite a long time with their structures in tact. Thus there was obviously merit to their methods. But those very methods were built upon a foundation of lies. He'd expect nothing but lies from one that holds a position of speaking for the administration that runs this city. Especially when it seemed that they had to lie to themselves about what they were, judging from the vitae mixed with the liquor. A way to allow oneself to forget that they were a monster. A predator who survived off of the life of others. How convenient it must be to have the luxury to allow one self such departures from reality.
"Splendid."
He'd bow his head once more. Hopeful that the Prince would not keep him waiting much longer. Though he suspected the wait would continue at least a little longer. Being the new comer to the city he must not be allowed to believe that she has nothing better to do. Or that he warrants special attention. A fact that he intended to use to his advantage. Working under the radar suited him for now, at least to allow him to determine his best course of action, and which allies were of substance and real use. If this was anything like other cities he had visited over his long life then his fellow Kindred were already invested in their own games. And while some may take interest in him as an unknown variable, many others will see his lack of connections as a sign that he was of no personal threat to them and their ambitions. And in many cases they would be right. His interests did not lay with leadership and Princedom.
"I am content."
He'd say giving her a large, sharp toothed smile that seemed to stretch his already gaunt and tight features like dry parchment. There was no joy in the smile, but then again, even if there was he wouldn't expect someone like her to be able to tell anyways.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Mar 11, 2016 6:35:50 GMT
That smile unnerved her as it pulled his skin tight against his bones. She wanted to shudder, to gag and turn away from him, but to do so would be rude. Perhaps if they were in her Club, her domain, she would be able to, but within the walls of the Prince's home, even Cho knew better than to directly insult a guest. Amy was known for being a hot-tempered, frosty bitch, and the Harpy had no interest in upsetting her more than was absolutely necessary. Instead, she simply turned her head away from her, pressing her lips into a thin smile and focusing instead on the counter.
Cho finished her drink and began to clean the low ball, washing it out and setting it in the dish washer, one of the only modern amenities that the Prince had been talked into. It was obvious that most of the home clung to time long passed; while welcoming, there were no modern art pieces on the walls, and the lights had to be manually lit. The bar, however, Amy never went behind, and the Kindred were able to get away with a few things.
"Content. Splendid." She gave a little shake of her head and turned away from the Nosferatu, beginning to organize the bottles already meticulously placed. She took a grouping down, looking over them before replacing them exactly where they had been before. "The Prince should be here very shortly." Hopefully. She wasn't certain how much longer she could try to entertain this creature.
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