Meeting Ventrue's Whip

In front of the club a line of kine, awaiting their turn to enter, is starting to form. Slightly inebriated rich kids, some nervous teens rehearsing the birthday on their fake ID's, pretty guys and playful women shark the crowd, scouting this night's victim.

He has decided that so long as he doesn't know and understand the unspoken social rules of the Sacramento domain, he's going to play it safe. His grandsire expects him to act as a representative of the New York Chapter and of their blood. He does not want to disappoint. This is why Adler stands outside of the Avalon, a good twenty minutes before his appointment with Whip Ricardo Rodriguez . He is unsure of whether or not he can just walk into the underground Elysium, without a court official such as the Deputy to accompany him.

Otherwise he is quite relaxed. Rodriguez sounded fairly straightforward on the telephone. So he expects less multi-layered conversation. Besides, the Whip knows what it is Adler wants to speak about.

He stands a few meters away from the line of kine. Leaning against a lantern pole, he pretends to be talking to someone on his mobile. Besides his usual attire, he holds a leather satchel over his shoulder. Inside it holds his note book, his fountain pen, and a gift.

ooc

I assume this is after the Meeting at the Lily

Arriving about ten minutes or so before the scheduled meeting time, Ricardo spots Alder outside. Although the Mexican Lord finds this a little strange, he does his best not to show it. This time, his the Smoking Mirror only objects a little."Good evening, Mr Walder." He says extending his hand to his cousin. Weather or not the other man shakes, the Hispanic Ventrue proceeds to ask: "Shall we head inside?" After all, there could be a reason for him waiting out here.

OOC

I'll go along with that assumption as well.

Finally. A simple greeting. Adler puts away the telephone and takes the Whip's hand in a firm grip. He can control the urge to directly pull away and make a run for it. "Good evening, mr. Rodriguez." He walks towards the entrance and gestures for Ricardo to follow. "Yes, lets go inside. I was merely waiting for you, you see."

Walking past the line of kine, straight past security, and through the front door almost gives him a sense of importance. If only the jealous stares came, not from slightly buzzed adolescents mortals, but from other kindred. "How have these past nights treated you? - if you don't mind me asking, have you been well?"

if Ricardo cares at all about the Kine around, he doesn't show it. Instead he leads them to a private room in the Kindred only part of the Avalon. "The past few nights have been treating me well. As I am sure you have heard, we always win." It was half joke, and half a reminder of the responsibilities that came with their blood. "So, what specifically would you like to talk about Mr Walder?" Ricardo asks, once they are away from the danger of being overheard by Kine.

And finally a proud Lord. As he gets himself seated, Adler produces a genuine smile, "Indeed, Whip Rodriguez, I have heard something to that effect." He pulls his satchel up on his lap and takes his time to take out a notebook and his fountain pent. Carefully he notes down the Whip's remark. Adler makes no attempt to hide what he writes. If Rodriguez attempts to see what he writes down, he will see pages dense with scribbling in a meticulous handwriting. The words are written in a mix of alphabets,* the sentences consist of a cocktail of languages.**

He looks up, at Rodriguez. Taking in the man's mighty presence - the confidence he so comfortably exhibits, Adler is suddenly not so very certain of himself. When he produces a thin book from the satchel on his lap, he tries to reveal no emotion. It is a copy of Hesiod's Theogeny. "What I would like is to hear you talk about us, Ventrue," the booklet is in front of him on the table, he taps it rhythmically with his fingers. Apparently absent minded.

It is probably best to be upfront with his intentions. The man is a Deputy and will probably have a pretty good bull-shit meter. "You see, in the past I have taken an interest in the common mythologies of the kindred. Presently, I wish to further expand my knowledge of our shared blood." It is silent for a moment. "My primary concern is, thus, the furtherance of my own knowledge." Adler does his best to compose what he is going to say next in such a way so as not to give the impression of being a gossip queen. "During my acknowledgement, the conversation I had with madame Priscus Donovan turned to the very same topic. I made a remark, similar to the one you just made," the palm of his right hand is turned upwards, outstretched fingers gesturing at Ricardo, "She replied with a, for me, more than intriguing answer. That rule of thumb - 'Lords excel at what they do,' or 'we always win' - does not, as she saw it, hold true for all of our cousins in this Domain." The index finger and thumb of the hand that was just outstretched trace the contours of his moustache and end up on his chin. "Polite as she is, she did not wish to pursue the topic farther than that. Instead she advised that I speak with the Lords of Sacramento myself. So that I might draw my own conclusions." Again he takes a moment to let his words sink in.

In one motion Adler sits up straight and slides the booklet over to Ricardo's end of the table. "A gift. To thank you for meeting me in private." he nods respectfully, "And a tribute to Ventrue's Whip." Leaning back in his chair, he crosses his legs before continuing, "There is a second use these conversations I plan on having with our cousins might be put towards. One, I hope, you might appreciate as our Clan's Whip," he forces a polite smile to appear on his static face, "'s Why I wanted to speak with you first: in some sense I ask for you blessing."

Where was I? - Adler scratches the back of his head, "Ah, yes -," he folds his arms behind his head, without breaking eye contact with the Whip, "Madame Priscus Donovan also informed me that Sacramento's Ven give little weight to lineage. Seeing as this is a Domain of immigrants, that is understandable. But-" he sits up straight again, and stretches out his arm, "-I think it is a shame - a shame, mind you, not shameful. History-" his finger taps on the table just in front of the Theogeny, "-The story of those that went before us, should be preserved. Reiterated. Ties of blood might be our common ground for the 'what' of our existence. However it is the words of past tides that bind us together - they echo the reason for why we are what we are."

Realizing that that was quite an extensive answer to a simple question, he sits back and keeps quite, awaiting the Whip's reaction. I hope he doesn't think me pedantic.

ooc

* (Latin, Greek, Arabic, Cyrillic, Hebrew)
** (Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, Russian, French, German, Spanish)

When the other Lord records his remark, Hispanic Lord half raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

When his cousin brings up Ariana, Ricardo gives him a nuanced reply. "Perhaps I should clarify. I don't believe being Embraced as a Lord automatically makes someone 'always win.' I think potential Sires tend chose Kine who are driven and/or competent because they want them to win. On the other hand, once they have Sired, those same Kindred put very demanding expectations on the new Childe. Those, plus many other factors, make the Clan what it is tonight."

The Mexican Lord inclines his head and graciously accepts the gift. "Thank you." He made a mental note to read it later.

"Lineage becomes impossible to prove when none of the Kindred you are referring to are in the City. Anyone can claim that their Sire was Prince or Archbishop. Furthermore the value of having such a prestigious Sire is limited by them not having any power or even prestige here." Feeling that he had already spoken a good deal, he stops to give Alder time to reply if he so chooses.

At the Whip's answers Adler nods as if to agree. Most likely Rodriguez, like Ariana, does consider himself one of those lords who 'always win.' Else he would not be afraid to imply that there are those of their blood who don't. The display of his formidable presence makes Adler agree with the Whip's image of himself. At least outwardly.

He takes his time to note down Ricardo's answers. The man, after all, has made no indication that he frowns upon the fact that Adler records his words. He looks back up at his cousin, but remains silent for a moment. Taking his time to formulate a next question.

"I can agree with your reasoning and explanation, Whip Rodriguez," he turns both hands upwards and stretches them out slightly as if to present a gift, "And I admire the fact that one of your position is not afraid to not valourise those of our blood simply for being lucky enough to be embraced into the Clan. I can imagine that, as Whip, it is tempting to do do that in order to ensure you are favoured by all," he grins, "But it would be so un-Lordly, I suppose."

He leans back in his chair, "Seeing as there is, as you say, no way to fact-check your answer," his face reveals no distrust, "Would you mind sharing with me a bit about your lineage? Where do you come from and, more importantly, what do you think made your sire choose you? - What is it, that makes you a Ventrue? And was he - or she a true Lord in your opinion?"

Ricardo remembers the feeling of kicking his Sire in the nuts. Then, he remembers the man jumping on him and tearing his neck apart. His last living memory abruptly ends there. The he realized that he had been thinking instead of talking. As a reflex, he recited his lineage "My Sire was a Father Luis Ortega, Priest of the Sanctified; in turn his Sire was Beatriz Quadros Roca, a mortal decedent Moctezuma himself; she was Sired by Vinicio Peralta de Mosquera who was a Colonial." Reciting that gave the Hispanic Ventrue a moment to think. "Mr. Walder, what exactly do you intend to do with your notes?" It is one thing to write down generalities. It is quite another to write down anything specific about another Kindred.

Adler's hand halts in the middle of writing down Rodriguez' lineage. Without looking up he states in fluent Spanish:* "We can continue in your native tongue, if you would prefer." It is a guess. But an educated one. All of the names the Whip just recited are, at the least, of Romance descent. He finishes noting down the man's direct family, adding the Whip's question about the notes themselves.

He looks back up and stares at Ricardo's face for a while. Silent. The question is legitimate. If anything, Adler is surprised that it is posed this late in their conversation. Still, it warrants a careful answer. "Why does anyone take notes?"** The question is obviously rhetorical and the answer follows promptly, "To externalize memories. So one is able to oversee them in an organized manner, without the associative blur of the mind's eye." He turns the notebook a hundred-and-eighty degrees and slides it over to Rodriguez, allowing the man to try and decipher the writing. "As I have indicated earlier, Whip Rodriguez, my primary concern is to further my own knowledge of our blood. I am a scholar, taking notes is what I do - it is my end all be all." Adler cocks his head slightly to the left and raises his eyebrows, his eyes still locked on the Whip's, "I could not take notes now if that is what you want. But rest assured that - and I say this because I do not want to lie to you - rest assured that I will write down what I remember, as soon as you leave me. You could of course," a thin smile appears on his face and the tone of his voice shifts to a more powerfull timbre, "Make my mind forgetfull. But that would make all of this," he gestures with his hand, indicating the space around them as well as the words to their conversation, "A waste of time - yours and mine."

Once more Adler deliberately falls silent. This time because he wants to make sure that the gravity of his (semi-)bluff becomes apparent. His face is still again, exhibiting no emotion. Only his eyes may reveal some semblance of motivation: curiousity born of boredom. "If, however, it is tribute - a minor boon you desire," he shrugs, "If that is what is needed for me to gain your trust. Then so be it. I had not expected you to open up to me completely tonight in any case."

ooc

*I speak very little Spanish, and I do not want to butcher the language in trying to write it down. I don't know if you do speak it. If so, and Ricardo decides to continue in Spanish, would you mind writing the RP in Spanish and then translating it in a spoiler? It might allow me to pick up a word here and there.

**for the moment he proceeds in English

Ricardo listens to Adler's points, and carefully considers his reply. "First, I am not going to erase your memory." The Mexican Lord waves his had as if he had not even considered it. "Nor am I asking for tribute. I am, however concerned for the Masquerade. Even if one witch hunter couldn't translate it, multiple ones working together over the internet probably could." I really wish Jen had taught me more about it before she left. "I also wonder what Priscus Donovan said about your project." Although the Hispanic Ventrue says it like a statement, it feels like a question.