(1607) Formal Court

[Konrad Roth]

Wearing one of his finer suits, Konrad isn't sure what to expect out of a Formal Court held in the Necropolis. He'd been there once before when the Nosferatu population had yet to swell to the number it possesses now. Only his arrival is made tardy by the long and winding route he takes. A bus ride, and a brisk walk through a park, all while checking over his shoulder for anyone tailing him. The scare he and Cross had faced some nights before has left him paranoid.

Feeling confident he hasn't been followed, Konrad approaches the address among a neighborhood of rotting houses. Upon entry, he sees the Priscus of Haunts in attendance. "Regent Gilroy, good evening," he says, with a forced smirk to cover the disgust that fills him at every sight of the Haunt. "Thanks for the hospitality. I hope we'll have time for a private word later."

He lingers only long enough for returned pleasantries before descending the metal and then stone stairs into the Necropolis. It isn't that different from the Nox. A single stair, a single exit. Though perhaps without the thumping heartbeat of music above or because the Nosferatu Curse has seeped into the base concrete, the underground possesses a more eerie quality.

He has a bare moment to reflect upon this before the rising tide of his Beast rages through him from the presence of unmasked Kindred. For a time he almost forgets the fears and paranoia, tempted to fall into a violent abandon of self and shed the false skin. But he reigns it in, focusing on the task at hand.

Eyes search and find the Reeve in attendance, though Konrad isn't sure if he's pleased or not by it. He approaches her and the company she keeps, Robert Cross. Convenient, as his business with her concerns him too.

"Cross. Reeve," he says while joining their company. "I see that you've met."

[Josephine Sterling]

Josephine, Robert, and Konrad continue here: http://nwod.org/forum/showthread.php...989#post444989

[Ciara Maskelyne]

As she prepared for the evening's Court, Ciara couldn't help but wonder what motivation the city's Nosferatu had for holding the event in the Necropolis. She had never visited the Haunt's underworld sanctum; so the only expectations she could draw upon were the images the words drew on the blank canvas of her imagination. Necropolis, the city of the dead. A space removed from the world of the living, filled only with the dead. An acknowledgement of their true nature that seemed at odds with the fragile mask of civility the Danse drew over their bestial existence...

As she made her way towards the above ground entrance to the Caldarium, it seems her imagination had not been too far from the mark. This was a place the living did not exist in by choice. Abandoned houses, neglected and forgotten; only the presence of the Domain's newest Regent making one of the dilapidated husks as anything special. Though he exuded no Beast, the nature of his family's Blood ran through the Nosferatu Priscus with unrelenting purity; the Ventrue's steps faltering for just a moment as the full effect of Gilroy's Curse brought a wave of nausea and revulsion to the other Kindred. The unstable support of rotting wood underfoot only added to the woman's sense of vertigo.

Finally drawing close enough for polite conversation, Ciara manages to hide a twitch of disgust behind a deep bow of her head to the evening's host. "Good evening, Mr Gilroy. I am most interested to see what your Family has in store for this evening..." Ever mindful of their currently exposed conversation, proper titles could wait until they were safely underground and away from any probing ears.

She lingers a moment longer, allowing the other Kindred to exchange whatever pleasantries he wished before proceeding into the house and down into the Necropolis proper. Her shoes echo with each step down the metal stairs and cross stone floors. The space was cleaner and more refined then she had originally imagined; yet not so civilized that the outfit she'd chosen for the night was rendered completely out of place.

First impressions are pushed from Ciara's thoughts as the primal anger and hatred of the Beast leaps to the front of her mind. Many of the city's Kindred are already in attendance; the confined space of the Caldarium with it's echos and shadows only amplifying the dark urges that called out to her. Yet somehow, the serenity of the Caldarium seemed to make it easier to calm her rage and refocus on the tasks at hand. A pale hand reaches up and adjusts the unbuttoned collar of her white shirt; the Ventrue Priscus relaxing a fist she hadn't even noticed she had clenched.

[Asa]

"Good evening, Regent Gilroy."

Where Twist had nodded, Asa offered a smile. Utilitarian boots creaked on wood with his weight, and a close inspection of clothing as dark as the Archon's would reveal a vaguely militant jacket and clothing of sturdy denim rather than finer cloth.

This wasn't his first rodeo trip into the Sacramento sewers.

Nor was the humor lost on him that his first trip into them had been to kill a Haunt. Years ago, when he'd been just a face in the Kindred crowd and the woman at his side had been the Seneschal that had declared that Bloodhunt.

"What ever happened to Kira DuVois?" he murmured as they descended.

And how different would things be if Ishani hadn't caught him staring at her ass?

The thoughts were a welcome distraction from the same anger that tightened the delicate fingers on his arm. And this time, was so very different. Where Nox was familiar territory, this was not. Something within raged and howled to killthemall first. Because, obviously, it was a trap. Animals know. But he could show them. This might be their den, but it could be taken, paid for in their blood.

"Would saying 'I love what they've done with the place' be trite?"

Asa offered a wan smile at the attempt at humor, asserting control over himself.