Waltz in the Windy City [V:tM 20th] - Main

[WlfSamurai]

Our Main thread.

 

[WlfSamurai]

Chicago.
January, 2018.

Chill wind rises off the lake, sweeping frozen streets. Slush and black ice blanket the city. Shadows stretch between buildings, plunging alleys into yawning void. The Kindred wake from their slumber to begin the Waltz again.

You, who are among them, open your eyes…

Spoiler: Instructions & Mechanics

We're starting small. Tell us how you wake up and where. Don't forget to mark a blood point off for waking up.

Sherwood , Epiphany , Esbilon , Arynne , Kassogtha

 

[Sherwood]

Dianne's eyes open with a snap as night finally falls on Chicago. She had never been a quick riser before; perhaps it was another 'gift' of being a vampire. With a grunt, she rolls out of bed, scratching at her head. Ungh. I need coffee. Oh, yeah. Right. Damn. I keep forgetting that I don't drink that anymore. Another reason to stake that bastard that bit me, whenever I find him. I guess a hot shower will have to do. Hm. Maybe if I add some blood to the coffee I would be able to still drink it? I'll have to try an experiment some day. Got lots of time to figure that out. Its not like I'm getting any older.

She strips down and heads for the bathroom, then cranks the water up to high heat; one of the few ways that she can feel warm without having to feed on someone. After a long, hot soak, Dianne heads back into her bedroom to towel off and turn on the tv to see the latest news in the world. Damn, I'm bored. I wish I was off of medical leave, but I can't go back to work too soon after getting shot or I'll raise too many questions. I guess its another night of Sudoku in front of the tv, intermixed with surfing the net and posting cat videos to my Facebook page.

As she gets dressed, Dianne pauses in front of the mirror, looking at her own reflection with a sigh. There is no sign of where the bullet hit me. Almost as if it never happened. But it did; I remember the pain of the gunshot as I lay in the alleyway. Perhaps it is time to go out and do a little bit of payback. Her eyes dart over to look at the shotgun propped up against the wall next to the bed. I don't need to eat, but that doesn't mean I can't do some hunting. Yeah, that sounds like a much better night than Sudoku and Facebook. Time to make some plans. I'm going to need to do this right.

Spoiler

Blood Pool 14
Willpower 4

 

[Arynne]

Lily wakes up when the alarm clock on her nightstand goes off, the sound a little muffled by the heavy curtains of her bed. Sitting drowsily upright, she slides her legs over the side and lets her feet touch the chilly stone of the floor. This always brings her wide awake.

After a cold shower (to make sure she stays awake) and several minutes spent wrestling her mass of hair into some kind of shape, she pads over to her desk -- in carpet slippers now -- to check the news and her messages. As her homepage loads, without the characteristic whine of a dial-up connection for a change (her acquaintances were right, she admits, to badger her into getting broadband!), Lily goes over the night's agenda in her mind:

*Go to the library and use the archives to research the prior uses of that old warehouse for environmental risk report.
*After the library closes, go to the University to audit Professor Coote's lecture on the Greek Anthology.
* At midnight, contact the wraith of that warehouse foreman who died in 1912 and interview him.
* . . . ?

(Yes, dear reader, Lily really does think like that.)

Spoiler: OOC

Blood Pool: 12/13
Willpower: 7/7

 

[Epiphany]

Waking is an effort, as always. Still, at least she felt refreshed.

Claire Courtright stretches in her bed, rises and almost slips on a discarded skirt left indecorously on her hardwood floor. The blonde Ventrue purses her lips at the sight, at the memory it evokes, then picks it up before padding into her master suite's bathroom to bathe. It goes in the hamper where the rest of her clothes had already been deposited. Normally Claire would indulge in a bath, especially after a long week in Atlanta, but last night had been full of surprises and she wanted to get her evening underway.

The Ventrue gave another considering look at the skirt as she towels off from the shower.

She dresses in an elegant white blouse tucked into a neat charcoal skirt. A little professional perhaps given she had no intention of going into work tonight but the clothes were familiar to her. As Claire walks down the stairs to the second floor, her eyes linger on the door of her penthouse's largest bedroom. Right now, she could use the familiarity.

Claire crosses the living room to arrive at the kitchen, where she promptly unplugs her Google Pixel and browses for any replies from Northfield labs. After logging into her enterprise email account she takes a liter of stored blood from the refrigerator and deposits it in a custom-made warmer to rapidly heat it to a pleasant temperature. One of the benefits of being a medical scientist who researched blood; no one really questioned its presence at home or what looked like a complex piece of scientific apparatus...that was really little more than a glorified fondue machine.

Seeing nothing critical, she casts her eyes upstairs. An invitation had been left. But should she accept it? Or give the one who offered it space they must desperately need? After so many years of captivity by a powerful, controlling Kindred, the last thing Roxanne needed was another powerful, controlling Kindred invading her space.

Instead, Claire follows through on last night's conversation...and dials in a number.

"Yes, Diane Taeger? It's Claire. Claire Courtright. We've met several times, most recently at an Elysium gathering earlier in the week. I find myself in need of a favor, or at the very least your professional expertise. And you could very much use a favor from me. If you still need to catch your dinner, why don't I stop by in...say, two hours? I'll be bringing someone who needs all the help either of us can give her. Can I count on you, Diane?"

Sherwood

 

[Sherwood]

Dianne was busy making notes of the items she will need to pick up for her hunting spree when she gets interrupted by her cell phone going off. Looking at the number before she answers, she recognizes that it belongs to Clare Courtright, one of the few vampires that were treating her better than what you scrape off of your shoe when you step in something unpleasant. Pressing the answer button, she lifts the phone up to her ear.

"Yes, Diane Taeger? It's Claire. Claire Courtright. We've met several times, most recently at an Elysium gathering earlier in the week. I find myself in need of a favor, or at the very least your professional expertise. And you could very much use a favor from me. If you still need to catch your dinner, why don't I stop by in...say, two hours? I'll be bringing someone who needs all the help either of us can give her. Can I count on you, Diane?"

I wonder what kind of 'favor' she is going to be asking of me. Is there any way that I could even consider passing this up? Probably not. At least, not before getting to hear some details. She doesn't even check her clock; ever since her Embrace she has an unusually accurate time sense. "About six thirty? Sure. I'll text you the address, and I look forward to seeing you and your guest. Is there anything that I need to do to prepare for this? I am still learning the ropes of Kindred etiquette."

Spoiler

Blood Pool 14​

Willpower 4​

 

[Epiphany]

Claire smiles at the cordial reception. The police officer had struck her as professional, if somewhat wild with the newness of her condition. Diane's agreeableness spoke well of the woman's ability to successfully adapt to the society she now belonged to.

"It's very kind of you to ask. My guest and I will have already dined before we meet you so no hospitality is required. If you find yourself with an abundance of time between now and then, you might look up a missing person's case. A woman, a model named Roxanne who likely disappeared or was presumed kidnapped or dead in the late 1980s in Atlanta. Once you see us, you'll understand why. I'll see you in two hours."

 

[Sherwood]

Dianne nods to herself, grabbing a pen and paper to jot down the name, date and city. "Right. I'll see what is on the files, but just to let you know, I may need to go down to the precinct to get all the info that the police have on this case and make some calls. Let me see what I can access using my password from here. Is there any other info you can give me to narrow down the search? Last name, or a description? Nevermind. If its there, I'll find it. See you in two."

She sends the address to her building in the text message she promised, then sets her phone down and looks about her apartment with a sigh. Time for a quick clean-up, then I can hit the internet and see what is on the computers. She spends the next half hour running about the place, picking up the few things that aren't in their right places, then turns to her laptop. With dancing fingers, she logs into the police website using her password. Then, she opens up the missing person files and plugs in what little info she has and sees what comes up.

Spoiler

I have a total of 8 dice on my Int + Computer skill
Blood Pool 14
Willpower 4

 

[Esbilon]

"Roxanne Black," she says, leaning against the door opening, and low enough that Claire can hear her, but Dianne cannot (unless the cop has Auspex as well). "August 16, 1989." Roxanne is dressed in a short, silken robe of the kind Americans often refer to as a 'kimono' regardless of the fact that it bears only a passing resemblance to that garment. This particular one is black with embroidered silver cranes flying across it. Her long, black hair hangs freely, framing her pale face and dark red lips.

 

[Epiphany]

Claire looks away from the blood heating in her apparatus, her bluetooth headset making her look like she's talking to the air instead of a phone, but she adds the additional detail for Dianne.

She ends the call by pressing a button on her smartphone, then slips the earbuds of her bluetooth off. Eyes fixed on Roxanne, Claire smiles and says, "I hope you slept well. It looks like at least four sets of clothes have arrived for you. They're over by the couch. It looks like the phone I ordered for you will arrive tomorrow. And, of course, we have an appointment in two hours to...reestablish what you'd like of your life, or get direction on how to adopt a different one. In the meantime, you're welcome to join me for dinner or..." the Ventrue gestures to the night-shrouded windows "There's always take-out."

"What's your pleasure?"

Dangerous words, in hindsight, at least around this Toreador.

 

[Esbilon]

"I did," she says as she walks over to take a closer look at the clothes. From her voice, she sounds saddened, due to the recent reminder of the abrupt end to all the hopes and dreams of her teenage self. "Thank you," she adds, sending Claire a genuine smile before turning her attention proper on the clothes before her. She regards them critically and lifts each garment up to feel the fabric.

"I'd love to join you for dinner," she says, looking back at the Ventrue once more, this time smiling more fully, the gift of new clothes having overtaken her previous sadness. "Perhaps I'll grab some take-out on the way home, though. I hope you won't mind."

Roxanne turns her attention back to the clothes she has picked out for tonight; black tank top, dark crimson, tight-fitting jeans, and black boots, and without a moment's hesitation begins changing right there in the kitchen. Claire can't quite tell if the Toreador is teasing her, of if she is merely utterly devoid of modesty.

 

[WlfSamurai]

Dianne, as you’re looking through the missing persons case file, your phone text notification goes off. It’s Dana:

On-duty tonight? I need to talk to you. Got time? Someplace private.​

Let me know.​

Lily, you’re running through your agenda when there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, you find your Uncle Johnathan.

“Is this a good time?” he asks.


Sherwood , Arynne

 

[Sherwood]

Dianne sends a text back to her friend:

I have some people coming over in about an hour, but after they leave I might have some time later tonight. Things are still up in the air. I'll give you a call when I know more, k? What's up?

 

[WlfSamurai]

Dianne, Dana’s responds after a few moments.

Thx. Can’t say more. Call when you can. ​

Sherwood

 

[Arynne]

"For you, Uncle Jonathan?" says Lily with a smile. "Always."

She opens the door wide and waves him to one of the two overstuffed chairs in front of the (decorative) fireplace. She settles into the other, feeling, as always, the slight awkwardness that mundane social encounters always have among the Kindred, bereft of the myriad small gestures that smooth human interaction. Vampires can't really offer each other tea.

 

[Epiphany]

"I don't mind at all," Claire says, immediately looking away once the clothes start coming off. Which is ridiculous but a mix of vaguely remembered Protestant morality and their incredibly complex situation makes it her first reflex apparently. "And it doesn't matter if I do. You're free now. There are still rules. Don't break the Masquerade. Try not to commit wanton murder. Don't open my sunshades while I'm sleeping." The last is clearly said in jest, judging by her dry tone. "But there aren't only rules."

Peeking shyly, Claire gives the Toreador an admiring look as Roxanne finishes dressing. "It's a good thing I have a healthy, perhaps excessively healthy, self image or I'd find being around you very intimidating, dear. Here, something to warm you from cold slumber."

She pours blood into a crystal decanter and passes it to Roxy before filling one of her own. Then Claire lifts hers in a toast and gently clinks glasses. "To new beginnings."

 

[Sherwood]

Dianne sits at her desk and looks at her cell phone, wondering just what is up with her friend that she can't talk about over a text message. Is she in trouble? What could be wrong? If I hadn't already agreed to have Clare and her guest come over, I'd be on my way to her right now. I hope that whatever favor that she is asking of me won't take all night. She then leans forward and begins to compare dates and names on the database to the one that Clare gave her, and she is fairly certain that she has the right person; Roxanne Black. Born in 1971, she would be 46 or so, assuming she is still alive. Hmm. Pretty girl. I wonder what has happened to her?

 

[Esbilon]

"I cannot imagine whatever you might mean, darling," Roxanne responds with a smirk, letting every bit of her native Southern Drawl enter her voice. "Thank you, though," she adds more seriously as she accepts the glass of blood from Claire. "To new beginnings indeed," she agrees, raising her glass to meet the Ventrue's.

"So," she says after sipping from the crystal glass, "who exactly is this friend you've spoken to about me?"

 

[WlfSamurai]

Lily, Johnathan dusts off his suit and chews on an unlit cigarette. His smoking habit had always been a part of his look in life. While it takes considerable effort now, he still sticks to it. It’s a part of him. He’s more careful of where he lights up, however.

“I’m going to need you help,” he says getting right to it. “I had a cache of my stuff knocked over. I don’t know who it was, but they took it all. It was mostly antiques, but I still had a few Fetters in there. Whoever they are, the must have known.” He adjusts in his seat. “My…buyer isn’t happy. She wanted the lot. Now I need to make up for it. You think you can pull some Fetters or antiques together for me?”

Arynne

 

[Red Shadow Claws]

In an abandoned basement in Fuller Park, Chip roused himself. It took some effort, having only arrived in the city just a few days ago, and this was his best bet, for now, for a place to stay in. Of course he could afford better, but that would attract unwanted attention, so it would take some time. Besides, he needed help to get set up here.
He knew well that he couldn't just up and walk up to people and get their help. Not with his looks. But he had means, and he needed someone to connect him with those who could help him set up. It was time to get a feel of the city, and to try and find someone to help him, maybe a harpy, or maybe one of the Nos. Everyone needed something, and maybe he can provide some help in return.

 

[Razyn]

It certainly ain't getting easier waking up, that's for sure.
Rising from a filthy mattress deep under his haven, old man Clyde shakes some dust off of himself, grabs a rat and bites its head off. As he chews back and forth, bones crunching, blood slopping down his gullet, he cracks his joints and rolls out the kinks.
Clyde tosses the carcass to the corner, where it's family or enemies, or whatever hierarchy rats use quickly swarm it.
He stands up and runs a hand across his face, finishing his nightly routine of getting up.
Clyde crosses his room, and grabs on his tattered clothes. Normal dingy clothes with a big dirty brown and black sheet covering the rest of himself.
Without much else to do here, Clyde checks that things are going well in his haunted house. Inspects the staff and checks for any intruding kids...
Makes it known that the bogeyman has roused himself by getting information from his ghouls about tonight's episode of Chicago Show with Mitt Law.

"Johnny, you can tell me about the bazongas on his co-host later. In full detail. i wanna know the usual..."

So he picks up the usual Mitt special, abridged. Satisfied with knowing the current events... Clyde leaves. He can't stay cooped up at home all night! That's what day time's for! He's got blood to suck, he's got buttons to push! He's got... Streets to stalk. Youngins to hassle and hustle.

 

[Red Shadow Claws]

Accommodations aside, Fuller Park is too rundown of a place for him. He hated to spend blood needlessly, but he to get around, and with his features, he'd stand out too much. So he concentrated, and felt the blood activate, as his appearance began to match what's around him. Now less visible, he made his way up to the roof of the house, and after making sure no one was around, he took a few steps, and then opened his wings to start soaring above the city. The Elysium was in the downtown, but it was closed for today, or so he was told, so he decided to take a tour of the city, and see if he can spot one of his fellows, and maybe strike a deal. If not, he can always just find someone with connection to the stock market, and ghoul them. But that could raise some troubles if the person is already a ghoul.

 

[Kassogtha]

With a grimace that matches his expression each “morning” he awakes, Clay’s eyes snap open. No slow or gentle awakening as he experienced as a mortal, feeling the trickle of the sun’s rays wash over the countryside. Taking a moment to stretch out his gangly limbs (more out of habit than need certainly), he pulls himself up in a sudden motion like a puppet set aright by its long strings.
“Might as well start the morning off a-right.” He mumbles to himself, practicing abolishing his accent as he does every opportunity he gets (few and far between). He starts toward the elevator which will bring him to the level he keeps the stalls for the two cows he currently has on hand for a waking pick me up. He appreciates the modern technology that takes care of most of the chores for the cows, the milking, water that sluices across their metal floored stalls, cleaning their droppings. Dispenses their feed and keeps their water full, hell he hardly has to lift a hand.
The room is dark and silent as he strides in, wondering if he should bother turning on a light. He decides not before he feeds.

 

[Arynne]

“I’m going to need you help,” he says getting right to it. “I had a cache of my stuff knocked over. I don’t know who it was, but they took it all. It was mostly antiques, but I still had a few Fetters in there. Whoever they are, the must have known.” He adjusts in his seat. “My…buyer isn’t happy. She wanted the lot. Now I need to make up for it. You think you can pull some Fetters or antiques together for me?”

To say Lily is astonished would be an understatement. Uncle Jonathan needs her help?

Her uncle had been the odd one out of his generation, as she was of hers. While his brother Benjamin, always one to try and please everybody, went to law school and worked hard to win their father’s approval, and his cousin Jason succeeded, becoming a cutthroat businessman and the family golden boy, Jonathan had forged his own path. He studied art and history, attended Harvard, and joined several respected antiquarian societies – all apparently without any help from anyone, especially his embittered father.

Lily had always looked up to Jonathan, and longed to emulate his fierce independence. Learning how deeply he was dependent on the other side of their family has, perhaps, decreased the wide-eyed admiration a little. Still, she feels a lingering affection and gratitude, and not just because he is her sire. Hunting down the goods for him will take time away from her other assignments, but it's not that big a deal.

“Of course. Are you…or your buyer, rather…looking for anything specific?”

 

[Razyn]

The bogeyman is on the prowl.
A few bits to address tonight... A youngin, a new flyboy dropped in this week and he seems fresh enough that Clyde's willing to teach him a thing or two.
So the bogeyman swiftly stalks through the night, shifting through alleys when there's far too many people around and boldly taking the streets when the kine are few enough to not be a bother.
And of course, any who get too close get a good spooking from his ugly mug.
All this, heading to where he mentioned to the flyboy that they could safely, smartly meet.