The Masquarade will Close on 07/19/2011
The Masquarade will Close on 07/19/2011
Sidor, thus far, had spent a pleasant evening talking to politicians. The conversations of the Kindred around him hadn't included him, and he hadn't been approached, which was vaguely amusing. He wondered if he just radiated such a force of repulsion. But that was more than interesting. It had given him time to talk to the mortals. He could take advantage of it, he considered. It was always good to find his way into more areas.
Particiularly when those areas reeked of corruption.
Dana sees the gentleman almost at the same time as she feels his Beast intimidating hers into flight instinct, but she sobers up and approaches him. The night was going on and, besides the little converstion with the Herald, she barely said a word to anyone.
"I don't think we've met yet, sir."
Sidor felt the urging of his Beast suddenly, intently desiring to tear out and eat the approaching Kindred's heart. He smiled faintly in the shadows behind the plain white mask, and turned to her, inclining his head slightly and offering her a gloved hand.
"No, I do not believe we have," he said quietly, his Russian accent sounding sharp behind the mask which covered his mouth. "A pleasure." His voice was ambivalent, as he assessed the newcomer. He suspected they could not have been in town very long, although it would be an instant tell that they had at least been around Court a few times if the accent gave him away.
Did she already heard that accent before? Sounded a bit like Katrina's, but she was not sure. He didn't have the lost aura newcomers (like she, just a few weeks ago) had, not sure who to talk to; even so, she didn't remember hearing that voice, that accent before. But again, there were many fellow vampires she had only glanced at at previous Courts, she didn't know everyone.
"The pleasure is mine."
"I'm afraid I don't recognize you - but these masks won't help us on that regard, will they? Also, I've been here for only a few weeks, I'm afraid I don't know everyone from our... Family yet."
"I think that's rather the point, isn't it?" Sidor said, his voice quite polite. Ah, that would explain it. She has not been around Court long enough for me to have observed her extensively. Understandable. "I am just one of those people who haunts the place, I'm afraid. Nothing special." It was natural enough for him to speak in the code of the Kindred that his voice didn't give up stress cues. He had a talent for being composed enough to be unreadable.
"Perhaps you'd care to introduce yourself?" The mask's blacked out eyes hid the rippling shadows beneath, but also denied any possibility of eye contact. With the film over them, there was no view into the holes.
A Nosferatu... She takes notice of that. "I'm Bogdana Blazsanyik, from the savage side of family. And you, sir, are...?"
"I still didn't have the time to meet many people here in Sacramento, you see."
"Sidor Rurikovitch Grigoriev, Miss Blazsanyik," Sidor introduced himself, his accent making the consonants harder than they should be. He considered that the Gangrel needed more practice concealing her tells in sentences. He waited for the inevitable Western mangling of his name, but that wasn't particularly important. It was better than people trying to impersonate an accent and sounding like a Cold War villian from an American film.
"I'm often around. I believe I've noticed you before." He seemed to remember a new Savage arriving not too long ago, at any rate.
So he was Russian, like Katrina after all. Not that she had a love for Russians, after all. "It's possible you have. I've been trying to be around for as long as I have been here in Sacramento."
"To be fair, I was expecting to find more known people here tonight; it seems most of us favored staying at home, after all."
"Not everyone is interested in such social gatherings," Sidor said, his gaze skimming across the crowds of politicians, trading their corruption. Places like this made him think of Sverdlovsk, and home, although this was uniquely American in it's decadance, to him. No quiet little meetings under bridges to pass on bundles of money in the freezing wind. Instead, there were dancers. "I am. I feel it's very important to be charitable, don't you agree?" He let the statement hang, ambiguous.
"Charity never seemed to work for me, mr. Grigoriev; my experience tells me it's never, or almost never, there for people who actually need it. But I try to not hold it against anyone who feels important to be charitable."
She follows his glance to the masked people gathered around the dancers. "People who want to appear charitable, of course, are an entirely different matter..."
"But these people meeting here seem to be at least somewhat sincere, don't they? At least that was my impression of it."
Interesting. So she hadn't been drawn here by the corruption of the place. Well, while there was no accounting for taste, he could understand a Kindred wanting to be sincere about charitable works. It amused the Russian Haunt a little; the idea of a charitable vampire, still going out every night and drinking blood from unsuspecting victims. He clamped down on his self-control as the hunger bubbled up. He could feel his fangs itching to extend in his mouth. The idea of feeding, so tempting, but forbidden. He was stronger than that.
"You can never tell with politicians, of course. They ply their trade in always appearing to be sincere. But I'm sure they care about what they're doing here," Sidor said politely. Well, of course he knew they cared. They were bankrolling. Most rich Americans cared deeply about what was in their pockets. "And of course, it is such excellent PR."
"Can you ever tell it with anyone? Everyone lies, if not to others, at least to themselves. But, yes, surprisingly, they seem to care."
She looks over the crowd for a while before speaking again to Sidor. "You know, I was actually expecting to see some people I haven't been in touch with for some weeks now. Or at least to hear from them."
"Almost as if lying were part of the human condition, isn't it?" Sidor said. His eyes remained on the crowd. He thought the girl a little naive from that comment. He, personally, saw a great deal of value in being able to assess oneself honestly and forthrightly. Particularly the more unpleasant aspects of one's personality.
"There's always the telephone," the Russian Haunt said. "Most important people have their numbers publically listed, of course. Was there someone in particular you were looking for?"
"Two people actually... I've been trying to reach one of them for some days now over the phone. Miss Katrina Scherbotsky, you know her, right?"
The other is a cousin I'm not really close to, but I've been trying to speak to him to, we have some matters to settle. A mr. Daniel Higgins?"
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Lance leads Ariana away from her female companions and into a slow dance. His mask hid the crease of effort that appeared on his forehead as he directed some of his focus on not stepping on his partner's feet. "I love your mask. Would you like to play the guessing game about Identities? Because I have to admit that I have an unfair advantage as to who you are. A little birdie ruined the game for me."
"Thank you. Your mask is also unique, and very stunning." She said with a bright smile. "You are correct, you do have an unfair advantage." Ariana laughed softly. They were dancing at a slow enough pace to continue speaking. One hand at his shoulder, the other palm to palm in a normal dance position. It may have appeared that she had danced a few times before.
"Sure, a guessing game may be fun. Although there are a lot of new people in the city as of late. You could really have me at a disadvantage." She chuckled quietly again.
He smiles at the complement. "Thank you, I wanted to show some family pride. I thought wearing a rose mask would be about as subtle as sack of hammers to the face though." Lance is silent for a little bit as he gets further used to the pace and tempo of the dance. "I am quite new here, that's true, but I doubt that there is any way I could keep any meaningful advantage over someone as charming as you. I've been meaning to meet you for some time at something official, but I've been stymied by the fact that I only have a name to go on, no face." He mock sighs. "Perhaps we should wear some identifying article at the next function to see if we can find each other? We could make a game of it."
Ariana was finally enjoying herself as the mysterious gentleman lead them in time to the music. Pondering some of his hints, she easily figured out his clan. “Is there any particular reason you have been meaning to meet me?” Her head turned for a moment in question as they continued the motions.
“Perhaps a game would be a crowning achievement?” She smiled with an accidentally wink, which could be seen easily from within her mask. Ariana seemed to be running into many roses that night. “If I may ask, how much do you know about the particular colors of roses?” She smiled inquisitively. “If you are familiar with a sterling rose, perhaps I could wear one of them?” This would identify her in two ways, although she was unsure if he knew much about the First Estate. Ariana was quite aware of the actual garden variety of roses, since it was a past time of her mother’s.
Lance responds smoothly with "Oh, I wanted to tell you about the help someone gave me on my fist night in the city, but good lord," placing subtle emphasis on that one word, "I think that would make me a poor dancing partner, talking about other women when dancing with someone like you. Don't you think?"
Taking a cue from some of the other dancers, Lance lightly spins Ariana away and then back before continuing. "Sadly, I wasn't being witty when I said I have two black thumbs. I haven't gardened in ages. I can look them up on the internet if I have to though, unless you'd like to share what you know with me. I do have a question if you'd rather continue our game. I recently attended a family reunion and it seems I am the only unattached member of my family while most of the others seem to be married to their politics. I'm guessing it would be too much to assume that you were unattached as well?"
Ariana laughed, “That all depends on you; and whether this dance is business or pleasure.” The curiosity was weighted in her tone.
She enjoyed the slow spin that the man in the mask lead her in and she smiled with approval. “Perhaps I shall have you look it up, to further our game.” She winked.
“Yes, I am attached to a particular party.” Ariana said with a slight tone of pride. “Are you not fond of such attachments?” She glanced around for a moment at the site of another couple dancing as well. “So, masked stranger, you still have me wondering who you may be.” She chuckled slightly. “Although I will not deny that this is rather intriguing.”
"Pleasure, of course. We have all the time in the world to deal with business. Tonight has been set aside for enjoyment." He turns his lips up in a smirk, though it is a gentle one. "In either case, I'm sure there's some of my family here and I'd rather die than let them think I'm something other than a young, unrepentant sybarite. It's so much more fun to let them look down their noses at me while underestimating me. It certainly helps that I am a young, unrepentant sybarite."
Lance puts his hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. "I love attachments, I just didn't want my relationship with my father to dictate my the ones I could make for myself. He was in one of those radical movements, so everyone thought I was going to be in one too. When I moved here I started exploring my options. Intriguing is good, but it would be rude to keep you in the dark, wouldn't it?" He leans in close to whisper in her ear. "Please call me Lance."
“It seems we all forget to take time for enjoyment.” Ariana shook her head slightly. “Well I am not here to judge you, that is not what tonight is about.” A delighted grin appeared on her lips.
His words hit home a little as he spoke about his father, which may have meant sire if they were still reading between the lines. Surprisingly, Ariana did not flinch when her back was touched this time. “Some find comfort in those attachments. More so perhaps, a sense of stability.” She snickered. “Well that all depends on the type of dark you speak of,” She whispered back, “Lance. No surname?” Almost as if she was concerned someone would over hear her. “I believe you already know mine.” Still wondering who may have told him, although she was certain Amelita was somewhere.
“Well enough with business and political movements.” Ariana laughed softly. “What other forms of enjoyment do you prefer?” She said as her frame was still close with his.
"Rayner, if you must know, but please call me Lance when there isn't anyone around who would be scandalized by you being so informal. As for other forms of enjoyment, there's the clubs of course and there's always something going on around those young people going to college. They're happy to let anyone if as long as they can supply some kind of party favor." Lance didn't know what the Harpy's views on drugs were and this was no time to go talking about them in any case. "I'm taking some night classes in an effort to improve myself. Spanish for beginners, an art class, those kinds of things." He spins her again, this time leading into a natural dip with Lance supporting her by the shoulder. "So I've been told you are the queen of the Sacramento Bee, I take it you enjoy the newspaper?"
Maybe someone told Lance of her consistent formalities, this only lead to her further intrigue of the man. “Well, if you insist, Lance...” She had whispered the name in his ear again, accidentally grazing it with her lip. “Oh I have been to those scenes.” She said with a laugh. “To watch others partake has its own reward at times.” An indication Ariana was well aware as to what party favors he was referring.
“Perusing what you want is an excellent idea, before it is too late. Although much like Hollywood, we all have a chance to reinvent ourselves.” Ariana’s frame shifted with him as he dipped her and an approving chuckle came from within. “I would not say the queen, yet. I am an editor at the Bee. I do enjoy it immensely, the writing, the knowledge and let us not forget front row seats and back stage passes.” She smiled with a wink as her hand slipped slightly over his shoulder as they continued dancing.
"Well I'm sure it's only a matter of time before they fall to your not-inconsiderable charms then," Lance says with a wink as they dance. "I must respectfully disagree though, because no one can ever reinvent themselves. No matter how much you remodel the house it still has the same foundations. There's no reason you can't add another floor though."
“That is entirely true. As long as you are remodeling with good reason and not attempting to keep up with the Jones’; so to speak.” A curious smile lay upon Ariana’s lips. “That all depends on how much someone values those charms. Sometimes they never get past the threshold.” She pondered for a moment if she should press a question. “If you are an authority of such charms, perhaps you could enlighten me as to which qualities are of interest to you.” Even though she had a name, she still had no face to go on. Ariana was definitely fascinated at their conversation.
The band finishes up their number as the party starts to die down. "I hardly know the Jonses here, that's one of the reasons I rent a tux and come to these things." He affects a pensive expression as he leads Ariana from the dance floor. "Well I am a fan of beauty in all it's forms, but my appreciation of style, grace, wit, charm and subtlety is universal. To those you have added not only flexibility and a sense of humor but the ability to make me feel as if I knew what I was doing during the dance and for that I thank you." He takes one hand in his and brings it up to his mouth as if to kiss it. "I pledge to you that I will go look up the sterling rose when I get home and wear one at the next official function so we may officially meet. Until then I will be devastated by the lack of your company, I promise you."
“Well flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Rayner.” Ariana said with a wink as her hand was in Lance’s. Hopefully he understood her formality once again as they left the dance floor. “I do look forward to meeting you once again, hopefully unmasked.” She said laughing softly. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you have wonderful evening.”
Ariana was a bit stunned. It was not often someone was so forward and instant upon a few things. It seemed that masks were changing a lot as of late. She was rather enjoying that. She began walking to the main entrance to leave for the evening.
John turns and sees that the all the other Kindred are ether dancing or chatting, so it seemed that John found himself in a bit of a wall flower position.
He chuckles to himself at the turn of events.
He begins to chat with the mortal attendees, he wondered if anything he got from them could be of use to the Harpy later of the the News paper. After chatting with the Humans, if no kindred speaks to John, he makes his way to the door.
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After Brenn had wandered away from Amelita she found, much to her surprise, that the masquerade was almost over. She scowled beneath her mask, standing off to the side, pondering what to do, before she finally decided it would be best to call it an evening. She called a cab and then stopped briefly by all of her kindred acquaintances, and friends, to bid them a good evening before she plodded back out, into the night.
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