(Fairest) Hidden Gem

[Yumyumcrow]

Molotov's was hidden gem, squirrelled away in the back streets near Sacramento State. Smokey brown brick walls, unadorned except for pieces of artwork; red cushions of seats and lounges; aroma of coffee duelled with herbal smells from strategically placed censors lent the place a hint of mystery. Conversation's always bubbled here, in this place where artists and student's mingled - this was thier club, hard on the interface between culture, academia, art, and the street: if the clientele did not tell you this, the art hanging from the walls and the weekend entertainment most surely would.

On this night there was a show for aspiring local artists. Headlining the show was Boff, the street poet, whose cutting critic and inspiring koans were chanted to a harsh beat. Of course, the word was that the real headline act would be adorning the walls this night and everyone who mattered knew that Zelda's stocks had risen when Marvin Stax had purchased her works and was now displaying them at his new club in San Francisco. The simmering rumour mill all but insisted he was coming back for more.

The atmosphere in Molotov's had been building all afternoon and by nightfall it had become an energised soup of students, artists, edgy critics, and those who liked to stand in opposition to the establishment. The club was alive to the throb of humanity - a whirl of ever-changing configurations and conversations both stimulating and banal.

Characters will have heard about this event through their Allies or Contacts in Culture, Entertainment, News Media or Street spheres of influence. Over to you Chrisie Gabrielle Phoenix SoraLow . Your plot begins here.

[Phoenix]

Gabrielle had learned about the Molotov and thought it would be a marvelous place to visit. Not only did it have excellent artists whose work were being displayed here, but the stand against the establishment rang a bell towards her Carthian proclivities, the exact kind of place to mix business and pleasure as it seems.

For the evening, she wore relaxed clothing, a jeans and t-shirt with a Dali painting on it. Around her neck, she wore a necklace with a flaming bird. She took a seat in the Molotov, hoping to get a good spot to hear Boff, the street poet, hoping to get some inspiration for the Carthian covenant. It was always necessary for the movement to keep a close hear to the kine, especially when they were as motivated as Boff seemed to be.

While she does that, she remained vigilant in case other kindred shows up to the place. The memory of her 'meeting' with Baldwin remained and she was leery of meeting similar kindred in that venue ...

[SoraLow]

Word on the street was that some rich art enthusiast was back in town looking to invest and so he took a trip downtown near the University to a spot called Molotov, the place he'd heard was going to be the hot spot for the evening. He didn't really have much of a plan for the way the night would go, would he find himself standing over an incapacitated rich guy while he made off with the loot, perhaps, or maybe he would sit back in the cut, watch the kine drink and smoke themselves into euphoria then take his time draining all that energy for himself. Either way from the description he'd got the place made for good stomping grounds for fine art and edge worthy culture.

Tonight Richard dressed to blind in with a younger crowd, a black tee with a grey hoodie on top, a gold chain hanging around his neck and a ti-dye bucket cap. He heads inside and immediately senses the presence of a very familiar beast near by. He takes a moment to survey the room until he finally spots Gabrielle sitting alone inside. As he approaches her the creature living with him raises itself in challenge, he could see himself snatching her from her seat, slamming her to the ground and seizing her delicious vitae.

A level head prevails however and he greats her with a smile without fangs,"Gabby, makes sense that I would find you here. How are you?" he ask as he takes the seat next to her.

[Martha Villiers]

..Molotov...

The name conjured in Martha's mind a very special and very dangerous breed of delusional professional revolutionary and agitator.

The sort of bomb throwing revolutionary who just wanted to watch the world burn. Men driven by a murderous zeal that crushed kindness and, whilst promising a Utopia, demanded the ruthless extinction of anything standing in its way.

Martha had met his sort.

She didn't like his sort.

Limping into the bar, Martha gripped her cane and made a playfully sinister promise to eat the next person to unironically utter the words problematic...heteronormative...intersectional...o r logical fallacy...

Leaning on her cane, she hesitated at the door for a few moments. Trying to establish the points of exit. The presence of Mortals and hints of conversation for the promised thrill of being at the very edge of Hipster revolution.

Smiling, she had to remind herself that, for all its posturing, the Molotov was unlikely to be Paris of Boulanger; Italy of the Futurists... or London under the wicked bombs and hands of the Autonomie Club...

Gripping her simple metal cane in one hand, Martha hobbled through the bar. Looking for a friendly face or the lure of interesting conversation...

As she navigates the club, tiny Martha offers smiles to those who look her way and her gaze fell on more than one pair of long legs and high heels. As she limps close to the bar, her C-Leg dragging, she winces in obvious pain, and pauses to study the legs of an elegant lady at the bar.

Her eyes study the legs and knees of the nearest lady. Blinking to herself, Martha nodded cheerily to girl she'd studied and limped over towards Gaby and Richard...

Tiny Martha is neatly attired in her black Edwardian style English school uniform.

There are the hipster spectacles perched daintily on the end of her nose. So too is the short gymslip with its almost immodest hemline is to mid thigh; revealing a single, toned and trim, leg obviously clad in a serviceable black stocking. Her trim and dancer's leg musculature is obvious.

Martha's hair is an odd shade. To the expert eye, her twin tails are 'zombie blue' with a subtle hint of 'zombie green' thrown in for good measure. Red lipstick and a dash of blusher adds to her cosmetic look and porcelain beauty.

A swift glance would reveal that she's wearing her more elaborate and modern C-Leg, though she's only wearing a stocking on her flesh leg. Oxford pattern black shoes round out her attire.

The aroma of minty toothpaste and lemons lingers around Martha.

She emits no Beast.

Her pale and petite presence exudes an almost tangible sweetness and innocence.

-1 Blush of Life

Making her apologies as she hobbled through the crowd, she wondered if one of them was Boff.

Looking for possible signs of Stax she saw the tie-dyed cap of Richard above the throng.

Limping badly, she made a timid approach. Gripping her cane, pain stabbed through what was left of her thigh and she fought a terrible instinct to do awful things to everyone close by.

Especially Gabby's jeans...

And Richard's neck...

Her Beast wriggled and fought. One night, Martha knew, it was a struggle she might lose. For now though, her Beast whimpered and greater pain stabbed up her stump.

Smiling through, she nodded a greeting to Richard and Gabby; "G...g...good evening!" she chirped timidly to both. Nodding respectfully to the Kindred. "I.. I hope you're both well! It promises to be an exciting evening!" she added more happily and easily now as she came to rest and leaned hard on her cane.

[Phoenix]

She was looking whether Boff would be going on stage when the familiar and unsettling call of the beast beckoned. While her mind recognized Richard as someone she could partially trusts, the monster inside her only saw someone who was trying to contest the Molotov territory from her. The fact that she didn't know he would be here and her wanting to have a night away from the intrigue of the Danse Macabre didn't help matters.

Still, she managed to greet him in a somewhat friendly manner, though the beast was seeping under the surface.

"Hello there Richard. You here to get a hold of the artistic crowd or just here for fun?"

Before the Ordo Dracul Daeva could answer, the familiar figure of the keeper of Elyseum appeared before both of their eyes. The place was becoming crowded fast. Thankfully, Martha emitted no beast or the situation could have become more difficult quickly.

"Greetings there. I see the place is becoming fast popular among the in crowd."

And that's all she said for the moment, giving time for the other kindred to answer and maybe Boff to interrupt them when he would be getting on the scene ....

[Yumyumcrow]

le BUMP! Don't mind me When its time, Things Will Happen.

[Martha Villiers]

With a trembling grip on her cane and almost visible frustration at staring at Gaby's jeans wrapped legs, Martha nodded merrily. Chirping, "The In-Crowd? Ah! One can but hope! I hear many fascinating things about this place!" for a moment she wanted to share her thoughts on what it was like to see the emergence of the Futurists, but wisdom held her tongue.

Stealing a cheery glance to Gaby and Richard, tiny Martha added, "Do you feel Stax will make an appearance tonight too? It would be interesting to see how people can steer the art market at such proximity!" a happy smile is offered as she rubs at her hip.

[SoraLow]

A smile crept across Richard face, flushed with two rows of shining white teeth, a distinctly pleasant in it's delivery as always, was anyone able to see through the diversion and perceive the dragons simper. He had emerged this evening with the intent to continue canvasing the city for place in which he could stake his claim, he had been in this city long enough to know that he had no intention of leaving, it was high time he cultivated a reliable herd in a community that suited his more distinguished needs for nights in which he wasn't keen on drunken harlots dancing out their sorrow. At least for now, he sought a more lively crowd.

That was the plan he had emerged with. Running into Gabby and Martha, who thankfully spared his beast the anxiety attack of her arrival, had now given him cause to adjust his priorities. He would make time to taste the scene later, for now (and until they have parted ways), the Dragon set his focus on his company. It was likely that Gabby had come here tonight for similar reason as he, which meant he had an opportunity to observe her among kine, would he be sharing this sphere with his cousin? Martha was a bit more of a mystery, as per usual, what was her motivations for coming out tonight? Was this a trivial pursuit of knowledge? He didn't put it past the encyclopedic Martha to have an interest in anything on the spectrum, she seemed the type to sit through a seminar about doors if only to find out why the knob was on the left side. So many questions arose in his mind and he was pretty sure there was a hint of excitement laced within each one of them.

To Gabby he says, "Mostly here for fun, though my definition of fun can be sporadic at times. It's a good thing that I found you here, now I am sure to enjoy the evening" He turns his attention to Martha who had recently arrived after him,"Martha! How good to see you, this just gets better and better"

[Phoenix]

She was a bit unhappy to see other kindred already there, but was not that surprised. Richard as a Daeva certainly had reasons to 'have fun' there. She was however unsure of what the mysterious Kindred,Martha, would be looking for in a place such as this. She doubted it was for purerly academical reasons. But hey, to hell to with that, not that her inner beast was content to let that slide, at least as far as Richard was concerned.

She gave a polite smile to both Kindred.

"I see, it certainly looks like a good place to have fun. I am anxious to see the artists but if the title of the place is any indication, it should be the bomb, pardon my expression."

While talking to the other kindred, she observed the mortals that were being present, not only to get a feeling about why they came here but also in search for good prospect to relieve of some of their blood...

[Yumyumcrow]

The poet Boff takes the stage again, this time with a partner. An electric buzz ripples through the crowd as an audience materialises to listen to the poetry duel. Conversation ripples and whirls about Molotov's like an agitated ocean.

Gabrielle Phoenix may read the madding crowd with an extended Wits + Socialise roll. More success uncovers more layers of intrigue and interest beneath the excited drone of conversation. Martha Chrisie and Richard SoraLow may support this action with Teamwork if you so desire.

While Gaby works out the lay of the land, the other Kindred may plot and mingle as they see fit...