More Behind Masks

Martha had taken care to prepare for this meeting. Time had been lavished on her hair, a dab of lipstick a lot of minty toothpaste and lavender soap had been used earlier.

This was an important meeting and Martha intended to try to look her neatest.

Fresh from her shower just prior to collection by the elegant Cheyenne, Martha had dressed in, what seemed to be coming, her usual attire - the vintage style school uniform: the black mid calf length gymslip, the white blouse, the red tie, the blazer, the low black shoes...the white knee socks (though the gymslip concealed just how high the socks went!) and her straw boater. The rain had provoked her use of an Ivy League college scarf from some charity dime store and her beige overcoat. Her cane held tight, she had a small, but bulky, NATO issue army surplus valise with her in place of her usual satchel.

Martha had ridden in the car in silence. Ensuring she was buckled in. Martha had taken great care to ensure this and, at first, to watch Cheyenne's driving skill at work. Speaking to Cheyenne if spoken to and to offer words of sincere thanks when needed, but she was happy to let the lady do her job untroubled by the need for talk. This did not seem to be intended to be rude; Martha just wanted to let Cheyenne do her job.

It was a cold and rainy night in Citrus Heights as Martha rode in the back seat of a fairly new model black sedan. Cheyenne drove the vehicle into the cul-de-sac and at the end of the it down a nearly hidden driveway and parked in the driveway. From the cul-de-sac proper the house was almost completely hidden by a row of trees and bushes.

The house, or Haven as it were, was very nondescript much like the Master of it. There was nothing at all special about it. It was nothing grand and was definitely not an overt sign of wealth. It was for all intents and purposes a normal suburban house. The lawn looked well kept; the house itself looked to be in good order.

The ride allowed her to study the suburb more closely...the cars parked the type of dwelling...the lawns...the ordinary quality of the place. She tried to imagine it in daylight, as if feeling the evening was un-natural for the suburbs.

Cheyenne stepped out of the vehicle and opened a large umbrella. This little car ride was the first time she had seen the Ghoul unmasked. She had pale skin and dark hair. But her eyes were a pale shade of blue. She wore glasses today black rims but stylish. Her clothing was very normal and off the rack. Perhaps something that one would buy at a Target or other chain retailer. A pair of Black Slacks and a deep red blouse that seemed to accentuate her features but was not at all trashy.

The Ghoul walked around the car and opened the door for the Keeper of the Prince's Elysium. She took good care at holding the umbrella over and making certain that no water would spoil the Gibson Girls Outfit or Hair.

Martha thanked Cheyenne for her attentive driving and her arriving dry!

As the entered the house again it looked very much as a normal house would. The house was tastefully designed and decorated. Very open and spacious. There was a seating area which doubled as a living room. A Large plasma screen TV was hung over a Fireplace that was, of course, not lit and looked as if it hadn't been used in ages.

The furniture was, again, tasteful and well placed. Martha will notice several masks hanging on the walls as art fixtures but there were no pictures of any sort. Cheyenne bows her head and goes to fetch the Master of the house.

As Martha waits she may hear some soft classical music being played from another room in the house.

Martha took a sly moment or two to study Cheyenne's black clad legs and shoes as she went to talk with Conner.

When alone Martha waited, leaning on her cane and studying the presence of windows, doors...and the masks. The TV held no interest for her, but the masks...being the almost sole decoration, those she studied more closely. Hobbling closer to get a better look at their details.

Clutching at her cane, she waited, trying to identify both the origin of the masks and the name of the piece of music...attentive and alert for noise and any sign her host would be joining her soon.

As Martha leans in to look closely at one of the masks she may hear a set of footsteps come into the room. Conner was not attempted to quiet his steps. This was a social gathering and startling his guest would do neither of them any good.

"It is a custom work." Conner said, "Do you like it?" His voice was soft and calm as always but it had a hint of something else. The smallest flicker of an emotion that, even in there limited dealings, Martha may notice as different. Comfort perhaps?

As Martha turns to look at Conner she will see that he is wearing one of his masks. This piece was a simple black and gray piece that covered his eyes and nose, it covered more then a typical domino but was not large or heavy looking. There was no string or tie holding it there. It may be being held on with some sort of adhesive.

Turning to the sound of Conner's entrance, Martha smiled and dipped a respectful curtsy to her host. A small, almost playful, gesture of her free hand to the masks on the wall. Brightly and cheerily she added; "Ah! Good evening, sir! Tailor made, eh! Splendid! They are very fine indeed!" she tried to fathom the meaning and intent of the mask Connner wore. "Thank you for sending your automobile to collect me...a generous gesture, sir. Your servant is very skilled!" A happy smile.

Her gratitude was sincere, but it also allowed her time to ponder the possible multiple metaphysical and anthropological meanings of his masks. Martha played with these quickly in her mind - the deluge of variables almost exhausted her though.

Leaning hard on her cane, she smiled again. "Whomever made them..." another gesture to the masks on the wall, "...is quite the craftsman! Your interest in masks is most fascinating...quite intriguing!" She leaves her questions unspoken for the moment, hooks her cane under her arm and fiddles with her straw boater hat, smiling.

Remaining in her overcoat and hat and standing, she wonders what her host had in mind...the nature of his hospitality. Reminding herself that etiquette is different here to elsewhere and waits to try to gauge what Conner might expect of her next.

Martha was glad of the comforting tone, but was inwardly slightly surprised at his wearing the mask...she tries a timid smile...rubs at her maimed leg briefly before leaning harder on her cane.

Conner made his way over to her, "May I take your Coat?" Conner asked. Once he has taken her coat and hung it in the closet. "Please sit." Conner gestures to the couch. Conner sits next to the Keeper. "How are you finding Sacramento?" Conner asked making polite conversation before cutting to the chase. Conner had several things he wished to talk to the Keeper about but he need to pace himself. Do not act as a Neonate.

Martha lets the gentleman take her coat. She retains custody of her bulky NATO satchel and hat...now sitting, meekly Martha takes care not to sit immodestly, her stiff leg she coaxes into a position so nor Connor or servants would trip over it when outstretched. Resting her cane and satchel by her side, it is clear that, to judge by the method and way she set about it, to Martha sitting has become something both a small chore and ritual...but she seems glad of the soft couch, briefly she plays at the couch with a small hand to carefully enjoy the comfort of the softness.

"Thank you!" she exclaims, cheerily, as she sits, "I find Sacramento very well, thank you for asking, sir! I have seen several cities in the United States and find this one to be most welcoming. I am, for the moment, content! I have freedom to study and indulge my humble interests!" she smiles and rubs hard at her stiff knee, her long gymslip concealing much of her legs. "I confess, I had hoped to have found steady employment here...but...I shall get by!" a small chuckle, she smiles to Conner. Apparently enjoying the small talk...no doubt wondering when he'll get to the point, but, for the moment, Martha seems to be enjoying the chatter.

"Yes so we all shall. It does help when we have forever." Conner said to the Crippled Shadow. "Would you care for someone to drink? Or shall we talk business first?" Conner asked leaving the option to the guest. Conner still could not help but wonder how it was possible this woman was a predator kindred. Especially with no herd or thralls. Conner would have to pose that question later in the conversation. But it would have to be posed delicately.

Martha smiles at the invite to drink...rubs hard at her maimed leg. Toying with the invite to drink. "A drink, sir? Goodness, you are a most generous host, sir...I thank you! But perhaps we should discuss business first." a happy smile, a harder rub at the leg, wide eyed, she cheerfully studied the masked man again.

"Business it is." Conner said as he leaned back on the couch. "If you are not opposed to telling me, What is your Clan? My Understanding is that you are a member of the Ordo Dracul?" Conner paused for a moment to let that sink in. The length and words of this conversation was making Conner uncomfortable. Conner was normally a man of less words but one cannot make an alliance without using words.

Tiny Martha blinks a moment. Rubs hard at her stiff knee, smiles meekly; "I am of Clan Mekhet, sir." she says simply enough. Her smile wary now...as if hoping that her reply pleases her host.

"We are Family then, all the more reason for us to form an alliance. We both have something that the other may need." Conner said, "You have already gained position and influence. I have a herd, Tenancy Rites, and I am an accomplished knifesmith."

Conner waited for a moment gauging the woman's facial features and response, "What do you think?"

Martha's face will betray surprise and puzzlement, she spends a while thinking in silence and rubbing hard at her leg. Tries a shy smile as she replies; "What manner of alliance, sir? As a fellow Mekhet you would already have my help...as a member of the Prince's Domain you already have my support in role of Keeper...as...as a citizen of this fine country you have my association too...and now learning of your skills: you have my respect, sir!" she seems genuine in all this, "What else can I offer? It would be unwise of me to favour you over others in my role as Keeper...in which I must remain loyal to The Prince and the those in my care at Elysia...I...I only wish to understand more fully the type and character of the alliance you propose, sir."

Conner had to think for a moment or two. How could he put this better without misunderstanding. "I do not want to compromise you or place you in any compromising position."

Conner thinks for another moment, "In this city it is extremely easy to make new enemies, what I was hoping to do tonight is to make a new Ally. Beyond the normal dedication that we have for the other kindred of Prince Clarke's domain."

Martha nods, rubs hard at her stiff knee...she thinks she understands...she isn't certain. Pouting briefly in her confusion; "You...you mean...to Blood Bond to each other? Surely not, sir! Such a thing would be...well...outside our purview to invoke! You may have my friendship, sir...I see nothing in your conduct or attitude to suggest that such an informal alliance with you would be...well...something to regret!" a smile now "Yet, how do you proposed to limit the compromise I may suffer and...how should we seal the alliance? What would be the limits of conduct and expectations of each other be, sir?" she asks, wide eyed, clearly interested in the details. Eager as she is, Martha may have being a lawyer!

"No no, I'm not being clear. I would not ask a blood bond without years of trust. Also its against the Prince's laws to form a blood bond without his permission." Conner said in complete honesty, "I respect His Majesty too much to violate his laws."

Conner found himself slipping into the role "Both Kindred and Kine have made alliances and agreements for ages. I am sure you and I could meet an amicable and mutually beneficial agreement. Do you have Tenancy Rites? or a Haven?"

Martha felt she must be slow of mind this evening, rubbing hard at her leg she was having trouble following the suggestion, shaking her head... "I have a small Haven, sir...not as grand as this. It is...small...I...I do not have any Rights of Tenancy, as far as I know...I have Feeding Rights, sir...they were granted upon acknowledgement. Are you...are you suggesting we somehow pool our resources, sir? I unite with you in some manner? If so, I am afraid my share towards any mutual benefit would be far less than yours! It would be an unequal partnership. Were once I was wealthy...had a grand manor...a title even! Yet now I am in a state of greatly reduced circumstances...in short, sir: poverty..." and at that, the small lady hangs her head, grips hard at her maimed knee...sighing, looking bashfully towards the masked man.

"Financial and Material wealth are not everything."

However they are nice...

"What interests me is the influence you have gained in such a short order of time. You have skills with people that I do not. I have skills with a blade you do not." Conner says. "I also have a haven and a herd I would be willing to share. And a Regent who's ear is open to me."

Martha falls quiet, rubbing at her leg, she ponders this...watching Conner with interest...she was clearly growing more baffled.

Martha grips at her knee and studies her stiff foot a moment, before looking back to Conner with wide eyes. "You wish me to...you wish me to...act as a sort of herald for you? So, to be clear, so I can understand, sir: you and I unite. The nature of the unity is that I engage with people on your behalf...so long as such interaction does not conflict or disturb any role I have with The Prince or Court...and in return you support me with your skill with blades...I share in your Haven and gain the benefit of the close contact you enjoy with your Regent. Is that a fair assessment of the nature of the contract we are discussing, sir?"

Martha seems bewildered, wide eyed and friendly too...but still bewildered.

"Allow me to answer your question with another question, if you were wanting to form an alliance with another kindred what would you want in your partner?" Conner asked doing his best to swallow his frustration at how complicated this discussion has become. Conner had underestimated the Keeper and her youthful nature.

Martha giggles merrily: that was an unexpected question and she found it gave her a lot to think about! Rubbing harder at her thigh now, she falls into silent thought. Watching Conner and looking about the room, gave the whole thing some consideration.

"Perhaps my standards are high, sir. But, as an ally and a friend, sir: I would look for loyalty, honesty and strength, sir...a firm loyalty...not one based upon mere expedience or contingent upon ease of circumstance. Someone who, in a rain drenched foxhole, would share their last pair of warm, dry socks...someone who would brave the raking machine-gun fire of No Man's Land to collect a wounded comrade from the corpse strewn barbed wire fence. Honesty and strength are self explanatory and require no further comment..." she grips harder at her maimed leg again, clutches at the small haversack by her side, "As a lover...well, the heroism of a friend..." she sighs, lets the rest of her interests in a lover go unspoken, looking at her stiff foot again, she falls silent for a while. "In my fellow Kindred my requirements are the same as for friends...but also simpler for more routine encounters: I would hope that they do not seek to slay me, oppose me or oppose or disrupt the Domain of the Prince. Naturally, I do not seek to slay or oppose anyone either!" she giggles again, as if the very thought is alien to her "As Keeper though: I must be, first and foremost, alert to the safety, comfort and needs of the Prince and the Elysia and the Kindred therein! Nothing should interfere unduly with that..." Martha smiles again, all cheery and bright in her words "Beyond this, sir...well...that would depend upon the deeper nature of the relationship they wished to have with me, sir!" Martha smiles merrily, gripping her leg tighter and her haversack closer.

Conner nodded and did his best to follow along with the conversation. At the mention of a Lover he had to do his best to not raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Keeper Villiers, it seems you and I, although very different obviously, are looking for the same thing in both a friend and an Ally. I am also looking for someone with Loyalty, honesty and strength. And I had hoped that I will find that in you." Conner said.

Martha blinks...this was a happy turn of events: friendship...not a transaction!

Tiny Martha rubs hard at her maimed leg. Wide eyed, she smiles, "Ah! Friendship is such a treasure! It transcends wealth and status and...so many other things! While I lack potent strength, sir...and sadly...agility...I will happily share with you, good sir, my loyalty and honesty! We can possess and share trust and Justice, thereby! I hope, though, that neither of us will need to dash across a No Man's Land under heavy fire to rescue the other, or feel any cause to dispute or confront The Prince!" another smile, an even harder rub at her leg, a brighter smile.

"Yes, especially one that I see being as mutually beneficial as ours." Conner says "Now in order to better understand each other and facilitate our friendship, perhaps we should get to know each other better. There must be questions you have for me?" Conner was truly playing the role know. "I do reserve the right not to answer, of course."

Martha smiles, nodding...momentarily padding her hand at the soft cover of the couch, she leans back to match Conner's posture, smiling; "Naturally, sir! I fully agree! My immediate thoughts are upon the masks, sir...you seem to be most interested in masks! I shall not ask why just yet...but you should know that it interests me greatly! Though, I must ask: do you wear only decorative ones as these, sir?" she smiles, nods to the masks on the wall...lets her leg be free of rubbing for the moment and clutches her haversack close with both arms to her chest, wide eyed...clearly pleased at the way the conversation seems to be turning.

Conner nodded figuring that would be a question asked. "My Masks are a form of expression for me. I wear them for multiple reasons all of them being I feel more as I should with one of my masks on. Without one, I feel, vulnerable." Conner looked to the masks on the walls, all made by his own hand. Some were better done then others. Some could be considered art even.

Conner had thought, as he hid in the underground City of the Nosferatu, that he would take the Unyielding mask. Maybe one day he still would. Abraham had shown him how but they were never able to do the deed. And in his current place in the world it would be very much a hindrance.

"Now, Miss Villiers if I may ask you a question." Conner paused before deciding to steer away from the obvious, "Where are you from?" He asked.

Martha smiles, it was a stronger answer than she'd hoped for...it made sense and she welcomed it, nodding with clear understanding. Clearly warming to Conner in this new candour they were enjoying, clutching at her haversack, she leans closer on the couch, as if trying to get closer to his words and enjoy the comfort of the soft furnishings. "Oh...from England, sir. I was born there...though I was raised also in India, East Africa...and elsewhere, but England was were Father and Mother spent much of their time. I received most of my education there too." her chirpy, slightly posh, English accent only supports her claims...another happy smile, wide eyed.

"I am guessing, your Father was a Soldier of sorts?" Conner asked taking in the signs and putting together pieces.

Martha smiles, impressed by the deduction, she watches Conner, all wide eyed, "Yes, sir! Yes, sir...soldier, artist and diplomat! He was also an explorer...after a fashion. He was a very clever man, sir! Dedicated to his Duty and Country and...well...all that a good soldier should be dedicated to..." she nods, blinks hard and resume rubbing hard at her maimed thigh, clutching the Army surplus haversack closer to her.

"And...what of your parents, sir...might I enquire?" she asks with delicate care.

"My Father is dead." Conner said rather coldly. Showing no emotion toward his Father or his Father's death other then it being a simple fact. "And I never knew my mother."

Conner felt it best to leave out the fact that he had killed his Father less then a year ago. And his mother, a prostitute, had overdosed and died with a needle in her arm. Those little facts would not help the polite conversation they were having.

Martha understood the coldness of the reply. The cold comment, absent of any love at all, deterred further questions and she knew better than to ask.

Nodding in respectful comprehension...if she spots the white lies or incomplete information in the reply (which she was alert to: honesty being a primary pre-condition for Trust in her view!), she makes no comment upon them.

Martha sits quietly a moment, watching Conner. Taking in his words...demeanour...his art. Things began, she assumed, to be making some sense at last. Another smile, respectful, calm...gentle as she offers praise.

"Your work as an artist is impressive, sir!"

She looks to her clumsy looking haversack, pouts slightly, then smiles back to Conner, timidly. "Do you craft other things...any sculpture, for example, sir?"

"No Miss, I wish I did. But when I try what I craft is just... lifeless. What I see in my head is never truly what comes out in the product." Conner said being honest in his words, "What of you Keeper Villiers, what are your hidden talents?"

"I understand, sir...most vexing that." Martha nods, she too had experienced some trouble in composing, frowning slightly, as she nods. Her demeanour brightens at the question though; "Oh...but...hidden talents?" a small giggle, the haversack still gripped close, "Well, I play the piano, sir...I wouldn't claim to be an expert...but, it is something I enjoy and gain a measure of satisfaction from playing. I also paint somewhat inexpert watercolours and oils, but...the study of music has dominated my hobbies until recently...along with a delight in scholastic study." another bashful smile. "Again, however, others are better placed to assess any attempt at expertise on my part."

The two Kindred continue their talk for a while longer on less weighty matters before Martha decides it is time to leave. Conner stands and, even before he can call for his ghoul, Cheyenne is there. Cheyenne bows her head as she is given instruction to escort the Keeper wherever she wishes.

"Good Evening Keeper Villiers, I am very pleased this meeting was so pleasant."

"Thank you for being so generous and kind host, sir! I truly hope we have many more meetings as pleasant!" a genuine smile, a happy, if unsteady, curtsy...soon she is back in her coat and scarf...the cane and haversack held close and then off into the car to be dropped near her own Haven.

As Cheyenne drives through lonely rain lashed streets, Martha ponders the encounter It was a fine thing, she silently observes, to meet with a new friend.