[V20] The Tale of the Crone

Once they're back at the big dark building (impressive in a gloomy way if you like decrepit pseudo-castles) that serves as Justine's haven, the Ventrue waits for Juliette to open the car door.


As she gets out, she remarks, "Since Boris did not think it serious, I will be lenient. Juliette will not suffer loss of privileges, only an extra twenty minutes during her next discipline session, to fix the lesson in her mind."
 
Justine





Juliette bows her head even lower than usual, "thank you, Mistress," she says before following Justine into the manor house.
 
Justine's first move is to locate their suddenly dangerous guest. She has her reservations about the Tzimisce's diagnosis -- it seems too simple for what she suspects is a very complex underlying scheme of some kind. Still, she will need to keep very close tabs on the newborn vampire.
 
Justine





Christopher is in his assigned room, looking as dignified as possible while wearing a dressing gown. When Justine enters, his eyes rise from the closed coffin before him to greet her with a smile, though his face reveals a mix of emotions. There is a thick paper envelope on the desk behind him, already closed and sealed. "It is good to see you again, Madame Adler," he says, "did you learn anything about my condition?"
 
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"My acquaintance had some theories, yes," responds Justine. "But there's no need to go into them now. Day is coming very soon, and with it our period of slumber. Take your rest first, and we can talk again tomorrow evening."
 
Justine





He smiles sadly. "I can feel it, the Sun coming up, I had no idea I would be able to. That feeling really makes my changed nature sink in." He turns his head to look at the coffin again, "that and what I found when I opened this thing. I can't sleep in it, I can't even stand to look at it when it's open."
 
"It's not a question of being comfortable enough to sleep or not," says Justine. "When the sun rises, you will be overcome and sink into a torpor. Only a very few can rouse themselves to move at all during daylight hours, and they move slowly, like zombies. We become corpses in truth until the sun crosses the horizon again."
 
Justine





Christopher nods, "I understand. You've said as much before. But I find that I cannot possibly sleep in that coffin. I could probably pass out in this chair," he smiles sadly, "it would not be the first time."
 
"Are you so afraid, then, of accepting the reality of your own death?" Justine says mildly. "But let it pass for now. I'll have Juliette mail your letter tomorrow from a box on the other side of town."
 
Justine


Christopher smiles his sad smile once more and looks Justine straight in the eyes, "it is not fear. When I opened that coffin while you were away, I was physically unable to look at it. When I pushed it closed once more, the cloth burned my flesh," he says holding up a hand that still bears the red discoloration of a mild burn, "you know I posses self-control, you know I can weather pain. I cannot sleep in that coffin."
 
Justine looks at the coffin, then at Christopher. "Tell me..." she says carefully, "were you an especially devout man in life? I don't remember you being so."
 
Justine





"No," he says shaking his head, "I went to church at Christmas and Easter, I know the words of the Lord's Prayer, but that is about it. I have never truly believed in God, though as a child I thought I did. Now," he says and his lips curl upwards in a smile that is more of a grimace than any kind of smile, "I feel myself starting to believe in something at least."
 
Justine blinks. In her head, a piece of the puzzle then falls into place with a disquieting click.


"If you're not religious and this isn't psychosomatic then it must be some incurred pollution from the manner of your Embrace, or from the Kindred who Embraced you," she says calmly. "I assure you, the majority of us suffer no ill effect from holy symbols. Our nature is deathly, but not demonic. So if you'll turn your back for a moment or two, I can quite easily do this." Opening the coffin, she rips out the lining with its embroidered crosses, carries it to the door, and throws it into the hall. She strips out every bit of fabric until the inside is bare wood.
 
Justine





"Thank you," he says once her work is done. "I will see you in the... I'll see you tonight."
 
"No, sir. You seem like the one to prepare for any slipups and if they should come, you strike me as someone who smashes them flat." She noted.
 
Bela Dragosani





"Graceless, but at times necessary." Bela agrees. "Now, dawn is coming. Rest well while you may."


Bela leaves Camille with instructions to let Karkat sleep awhile and then begin his training early, and goes to his daysleep.
 



  • "Hello Cleveland, you're listening to the Deb of Night. Today was Sunday August 1st, the sun set at 8:45 pm, so the night is only just beginning. I'll be here with you until the sun rises at 6:23 am. The boards are lighting up and we'll have our first caller in a moment."


 
Bela Dragosani





Bela does not hesitate to pursue the sound. The evening report should be waiting on his desk once this matter is concluded, anyway. And perhaps Boris has arranged that meeting for later with the moneylender - screaming would be an inconvenience and indicate the cells, such as they are, are ill made.
 
Bela





It can hardly be said to be surprising when Bela finds that the scream originates in the quarters appointed to his newly adopted Childe.
 
Jolana was never one for nervousness. But something about this has her on edge... She honestly didn't quite expect getting to the CEO so soon. Perhaps this company's management is more hands-on than what she has come to understand is the norm, on the other hand she may have fallen into a Wyrm pit. The Shadow Lord is good at putting on a face, however. She wouldn't be a Shadow Lord if she wasn't.


At least this Deb of Night figure was interesting enough to take her mind off the potential dangers of getting a corporate job as a Garou.
 
Terezi drew in unnecessary breath, covering her mouth and nearly trembling in terror. "I'm not supposed to dream." She said, deep unease in her voice. "I'm not supposed to dream anymore. But I've dreamed twice in two days. Insects, covering the world, covering... everything. And... everything is doomed. I can feel it in my bones." She sounded terrified. "What the hell, I know I'm not crazy. I'm one of the most reasonable people I know."
 
Bela Dragosani





Bela knocks when he reaches the door to Terezi's room. Protocol is important.
 
Terezi





"They're just dreams, Rezi," Karkat says, trying to calm his troubled friend, "don't let them get to you." At the knock on the door, he turns his head, "should I open that? Or do you need a minute?"
 
Bela Dragosani





No sooner is the invitation given than Bela crosses the threshold.


"Student Pyrope; what is the meaning of these cries?"


He pays Karkat as much attention as the furniture.
 

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