Following the trail.

Distractions.

Charlotte knew that if she had one great failing, it was a tendancy to allow herself to be distracted. It was all too easy for an interesting example or a half-formed concept to spark up against the Mekhet's relentless curiosity, sending her off into a lazy spiral of self-indulgent reading and research before she could drag herself back to what she was supposed to be doing. Enjoyable to be sure, but frustrating when she had something important to do. Charlotte blinked in the soft, dim light of her Haven and glanced up, catching sight of herself in a mirror. There was a thin, hungry look about her.

Not just a distraction. Dangerous.

She hadn't been feeding as much as she should. Enough to get by without slipping into torpor, of course. It was easier to rely on infrequent meetings with her mortal...whatever he was, than trawl around the disgusting little drinking holes and underground clubs that peppered this part of Sacramento looking for someone drunk enough to let her take a nip from them.

"Enough." Charlotte muttered, dismissing her thoughts. She picked up the stack of medical textbooks she had entertained herself with the month prior and placed them in a pile by her feet, then swept the collection of locks and makeshift picks that had recently occupied her mind into a drawer. Reaching towards one of the neat stacks of files on her desk, Charlotte ran a delicate finger down one, stopped halfway, then pulled out a sheath of notes and a ratty diary. The most critical parts of Joe's research, along with the irritating Kindred she and two others had dealt with. Privately, Charlotte doubted that there would be any further issues with the Masquerade. One was dead and the other being schooled by Larkin Trask on proper Kindred behavior halfway across the country.

But, she hadn't gotten anywhere without being thorough.

  10 successes across 2 rolls for Int+Occult, 4 across 4 rolls for Int+Academics

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2013-01-27 18:18:46		Charlotte rolls 6 to int+academics (10 Again)		6, 5, 7, 5, 7, 8		1 success
2013-01-27 18:18:34		Charlotte rolls 6 to int+academics (10 Again)		8, 8, 1, 5, 7, 3		2 successes
2013-01-27 18:18:23		Charlotte rolls 6 to int+academics (10 Again)		3, 5, 7, 1, 2, 6		failure
2013-01-27 18:18:13		Charlotte rolls 6 to int+academics (10 Again)		5, 10, 2, 4, 2, 1, 1		1 success
2013-01-27 18:13:31		Charlotte rolls 8 to int+occult (10 Again)		7, 7, 9, 10, 10, 5, 2, 5, 1, 5		3 successes
2013-01-27 18:13:13		Charlotte rolls 8 to int+occult (10 Again)		2, 10, 9, 5, 10, 8, 2, 8, 9, 8		7 successes

In Joe’s writings, like Charlotte saw before, full of scribbling. Although in some of those writings, Joe indeed seemed to be onto something. And yet, in some aspects not even close. Still, Joe’s writings were dangerously close to the Masquerade. In a Vampire’s eyes, it was probably a good thing the weirdass guy died in the tub.

In Karl’s journals, there was something far more keen to his writing. From what Charlotee could begin discovering is that it was indeed another Mekhet with perhaps a gift far more great than her own. From what she could determine, Karl was an Alucinor. From her previous studies of history, Charlotte would know that they are the Shadows of Dreams. In the wrong hands they could be dangerous, as they all nearly found out.

Karl’s intent was to give Joe enough information so that any Kine would just think the book would be a different type of Vampire story. However, enough information so that it would piss off as many Kindred who read it, and perhaps more. Words like Vitae and Frenzy riddled the pages of Karl’s notes, not to mention clan and covenant names.

There were also pieces in the Alucinor’s journal explaining how he dropped dream suggestions for Joe to move to Sacramento for inspiration. Despite no real reason for the move, Karl made indications that it was a off the wall enough sort of town that he could still feed and Joe could be away from the hustle of Hollywood and it’s pressures. It was much easier to read a mind that wasn’t caught up in tons of worries.

There was only a few blurbs about Karl’s sire. How he hated him for the Embrace. How he was taken against his will and throw away like a stick of gum; chewed up and spit out. He vowed to make them all pay in some way. The Alucinor didn’t give a flying fuck about anyone but himself. He’d heard rumors that his sire was of the Dracul, and references to it were amid the writing in Karl’s journal. In Joe’s writings, it was referred to as the Dragon Cult. For any kindred aware of the Covent of the Ordo, that was something that would stick and piss off a bunch of them.

Charlotte could easily see Karl’s intentions were malicious to all Kindred. Even though there was no direct exposure, the Mekhet knew it would give hunters enough to go on. Perhaps more than enough. One thing that was critical were the glyph markings in Joe’s journal. And upon close study, Charlotte could determine that they were actually Karl’s handwriting. These markings were the ones on Elysias and other Kindred-friendly locations. Something that would have lead hunters to them all in the future.

Charlotte skimmed over Joe's writings. She'd looked through them at his apartment enough to get a fairly solid idea of what was contained within, and now that she'd had the chance to sit down and pick through them in her own time, found that her earlier conclusions had been correct. The author had managed to stumble upon fragments of Kindred lore and terminology, but hadn't seen the underlying patterns that connected to them. Charlotte supposed she regretted that he had died. It wouldn't have been impossible to persuade him to drop his project - for his own sake, if nothing else - and his death seemed rather wasteful. But in the long run, he didn't really matter. He was just one Kine.

And an annoying one at that.

Ploughing through Joe's notes had been, mostly, a formality. Karl's journal, on the other hand...Charlotte found the mindsets of other Kindred fascinating, and the little she'd read of the other Mekhet's writings had rather whetted her appetite. She tore into the little book ravenously, eyes flicking back and forth as she began to take in what was written within.

Her good mood didn't last.

Karl was an Alucinor. One of the Shadows of Dreams. She'd heard rumours, stories of their abilities. They were rare, and she had dearly wanted to meet one, question one, possibly even learn from one.

And she had met one. She'd dumped his torpid body into the back of a van, and watched Larkin Trask drive him off, out of Sacramento, out of her life, most likely forever.

Charlotte stared at the pages for a moment in horrified, silent outrage. Then she calmly reached over, picked up a little desk-tidy full of pens, and hurled it at the wall.

"Damn!" She snapped, rising from her seat. Her beast uncoiled within her, stoking her anger into rage. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!"

Her voice rose with each word, ending in a bitter shriek through clenched teeth. Charlotte snarled and kicked a waste-paper bin across the room, spinning and searching for something further to vent her impotent fury upon.

No! Force it down, control it! Control YOURSELF! You are the master, not the beast!

Charlotte twitched and seethed, lingering on the edge of frenzy for a moment further, before letting out a long, irritated hiss. She slipped back into her seat and forced herself to continue reading.

Again, her earlier suspicions were confirmed. Karl was indeed the pathetic, self-hating wretch she had taken him to be. Even in the best of moods she had little patience for Kindred who took their inability to deal with their condition out on other people, and in her current foul temper, found herself completely unable to feel even the slightest drop symapthy for him. But still. Pathetic he might have been, but cunning and manipulative enough to lash out effectively at the society he refused to conform to. Elysia markings, even. That would certainly not bode well for the high-and-mighty Kindred of the city if the journal fell into the wrong hands.

She would indeed have to take this to Trax, and trust Vorrigan would get the information to whoever needed to hear it. Her composure regained, Charlotte flexed her fingers and began typing up a report.

"You know, Karl?" She muttered, shooting a poisonous look at the Journal. "I hope Trask twists your damn, fool head right off. I really do."