Dockside Acknowledgement

[Konrad Roth]

-1 Vitae for Blush of Life
Equipment: Reinforced Clothing, Recording Device, Lockpicks, Combat Knife

The 'docks' that Konrad spoke of were little more than a board walk bordering Sacramento's Historical District on the river front. Long ago the city had been raised up to avoid flooding from the river which left a few buildings suspended high above the edge of the water on long thick wooden posts. Metal railings jut out from the district sidewalks and train tracks and follow a path down to reach the docks themselves.

The Tower Bridge glows with electric light that shines off the river. Restaurants are lit up as well with the still bustling nightlife of the Historic District. Konrad's fed here a few times before, the thin space being a great location just outside the Rack for some prime party-goers enjoying the view.

Despite the warm night air, Konrad wears his thick leather jacket, a bare minimum of added protection. And beneath it is a sheathed blade for additional protection if need be. A new Kindred in the city brought all sorts of potential problems. And the docks would provide an easy disposal point of the ash. Of course, not all his cousins are so easily dispatched. But better safe than sorry.

[Forn Clakes]

Google is a God-damned lifesaver.

Her phone was secured in its holder that was attached to the cruiser’s handlebars and after living in Manhattan all of her life, Sacramento was pretty easy to navigate. Still, newbie in a new city meant Maps was the way forward, ‘cos she really didn’t want to get lost to her acknowledgement date.

Not a date.

Pulling her bike up near to the docks, Whitney pulled off her helmet and shook out her blonde locks so they hung over her shoulders, contrasting nicely with the brown leather jacket. Apart from that, her binoculars were tucked away inside, folded away for when she needed them. Taken out her phone and securing the helmet into its compartment, Whitney began to walk towards the meeting place.

And then she saw him and her guts instantly twisted like the worst case of gastroenteritis she’d ever known, making her want to crawl back up inside her shell and not acknowledge anyone or anything.

Fuuuuuuuuuck.

And he was handsome, in a I’m-gonna-rip-out-your-spine kinda way, because that’s all that Whitney could think about right now as she tried in vain to control the raging Beast inside.

If you’re not hungry, you’re angry or you’re scared, you damn bitch!

It took a moment to calm but when she got there, Whitney wiped at the corner of her mouth with the back of her pale hand and remembered that without her helmet, she practically looked anemic with blusher and lip-gloss. Urging her precious life-fluid to course through her skin, she felt more alive even if she was starting to feel....moreish. Once happy, Whitney carried on walking, her hands digging into the pockets of her jacket, her blue jeans and knee length tan boots finishing tonight’s outfit.

“Guess you weren’t wrong about recognising you,” Whitney joked, trying to ignore the way her insides were being manhandled. “I’m Whitney. Thanks for taking the time to see me, it’s always scary in a new place, you know?”

[Konrad Roth]

Even the barest sound of her approach is enough to give rise to the Beast's hackles, his senses standing on end at the sound and then sight of another predator. Even anticipating the surge of fury doesn't make it any easier to resist the urge to walk over and sink his knife deep into her chest. One less thing to worry about. But as far as first impressions go, that wouldn't make for the best. Konrad reminds himself that more than Family, she's a potential ally as well, one more piece on the chessboard.

After calming himself he starts to take a good look at her. The blonde bubbly look sort of reminds him of Brittany, though the hourglass figure and New York accent are some major differences from the sweet girl-next-door.

He smirks, an attempt to look friendly as he extends a hand towards the rival. "Konrad. Welcome to Sacramento, Whitney. I know the feeling. Only been a couple years that I've called this place home. Stick around long enough and you warm up to the place, or the place warms up to you."

"Guess you'd have to make your way through the Historic District to get here. Nice spot. Docks are low-key, though there's a couple camera fixtures you'll want to stay clear of. They're just to make sure no one's taking off with some of the ships docked here," he warns, gesturing with his other hand to distant gray specks further down the boardwalk.

"But otherwise we should be able to talk freely, so long as we don't raises our voices."

[Forn Clakes]

”From little what I’ve seen, it’s a lovely city,” Whitney replied, relaxing a touch more as the seconds passed by. It was never easy, meeting new Kindred. Luckily, the Neonate had learned that the more she got used to the sight of others, the more bearable it was. Taking in the glow of the restaurants not far away, she suddenly craved for a fat, juicy steak. “A couple of years, yeah? That’s longer than I’ve been dead,” she grinned. “Still getting used to it, you know? Best thing though is no longer having to worry about my weight; healthy size twelve from here to eternity. Downside? The constant hunger pangs, right?”

Pausing for figurative breath, the blonde Savage came to realise she was rambling. “Sorry, I prattle on when I’m nervous. I’m pretty sure you’re not interested in a girl’s dress size, you know, unless it’s my birthday. Which isn’t until February. Although, I’ve always wondered, do we have to celebrate our, er, deathday now? Embrace Day, perhaps?” Whitney shrugged, adding, “Don’t matter, they’re both in February.”

“So, do you need to, you know, know anything about me apart from my dress size and that I can’t stop talking? My favourite color is pink and I’m a fully-fledged vet.”

[Konrad Roth]

Rather than share in her grin, Konrad grows more serious at her mention of her age. A Neonate, perfect. More prone for trouble, he thinks pessimistically.

"Right," he answers automatically, noting her nervousness. "Oh no worries, I'm always interested in hearing a woman's measurements," he quips as he pulls his hand back from the empty handshake. He'd known other Kindred who didn't care for the invasive contact. If anything it tells him that she backs down from the challenge. Of course knowing she's a Neonate explains why.

"Mine was last month. My Embrace was in July. I remember because it was near the hottest day of that Summer. I don't feel the need to celebrate, since I'm pretty sure I've never mentioned it before to anyone."

"A vet, huh? Animal doctor?" Weird. What possessed her Sire to Embrace a woman who healed animals? It preys on Konrad's curiosity too much not to ask. "But yeah, there's a few things I've got to ask you about. And a few things to fill you in on before you'll be able to tend to those hunger pangs you mentioned. Firstly, mind if I ask you about your Sire? What was their deal? Why aren't they with you now?"

[Forn Clakes]

“Yep, an actual real-life animal doctor. Patches and scratches, all creatures great and small, a friend to canines, equines and felines. A bit like Doctor Dolittle but with better hair and bigger breasts, you know?”

Just because Konrad wasn't cracking a grin didn't mean she was suddenly gonna stop trying. It helped to ease the tension.

At mention of her Sire, Whitney wondered if their paths had crossed. From what she understood, their Clan certainly enjoyed the more nomadic lifestyle. The only time she’d moved was for this relocation.

“I hit him in my car after driving home from a late night call-out; I thought I hit a stray dog. When I checked, it was a wolf, he wasn't breathing and then he lashed out.” Whitney shrugged, an expression of ‘meh’. “Can't really blame him, I had just struck him with my mini, you know? He told me he felt guilty, I think he was lonely. We hung out in Manhattan for about a year when I decided to up sticks and move out here, work on my tan. He quite liked the idea and travelled with me, teaching me enroute, you know, how to survive out of towns and shit. I think he was looking forward to checking out San Francisco. ”

[Konrad Roth]

"He felt guilty for you hitting him? Getting stuck by a car can be some nasty business, even for us." Probably kept her around as a food source until he got back on his feet and didn't have the nerve to repay the favor with a swift death. He could relate though, given his history with Ghouls.

"Yeah alright. So you're from out east? Quite the trip. I think we've had a few Kindred from out that way, but I'm drawing a blank on who exactly. You'll find out soon enough when the next Court comes around."

"Which leads me to the matter of Acknowledgment. You've probably come through enough Domains to know the score. No different here, except that Acknowledgement is handled by the Priscii of each Clan, as you know. The Domain of Sacramento is ruled by Prince Clarke, member of the First Estate so residents gotta follow those policies. You've heard of the Three Traditions I'm sure. No Masquerade Breaches, Siring without permission, or committing the Amaranth. Residents get the benefit of protection in and outside Elysium. So don't go running any other Kindred over or violating a Haven of someone in good standing, like. No Vinculum between Kindred without permission, and you'll be expected to take part in Blood Hunts if any are issued. Only been one since I've been here and that resolved rather quickly."

Konrad shifts his weight as if to shake off the discomfort of the memory.

"You're to keep your fangs off any EMTs, firemen, and police and hospital staff. It tends to bring in a bigger investigation from the Kine. You're to show up at Court regularly to preserve your Acknowledgment and be on your best behavior so you don't provoke the wrong person. Especially to the Prince and his officers."

"So, any questions? That's what I'm here for."

[Forn Clakes]

For once, Whitney kept her mouth shut as Konrad went through the list, making mental notes as he went. Even though she may be a greenhorn when it came to the Danse, the young Savage certainly wasn’t stupid. This was the important shit, the fine print, which could make the difference between getting by or getting staked.

“Awww, no firemen?” she teased before shaking her head as he asked her if there were any questions. “Oh, actually, yes. Could you point me to where Court is held so I, you know, don’t get lost hunting for it. That was definitely going to be her next port of call.

[Konrad Roth]

Konrad forces his lungs to expel a breath that makes for a sharp laugh. "Doesn't count if it's just pretend. I bet I could find you someone willing to dress up if that's your thing." There's some sass and some humor, but Konrad finds it refreshing. Sometimes a sense of humor is the only thing that keeps a Requiem from growing sour.

"Elysium's at the center of Downtown, east side of Capitol Mall. A nightclub known as the Nox. There's a back entrance for us, down some stairs. That's another thing. Most of Downtown is off limits to feeding. We call it the Rack, Prince's private reserve. Also reduces suspicion around Elysium so it's in your best interest to avoid that temptation. Runs from 5th street through 29th street, and J street through W street. Don't get caught poaching. It doesn't end well, trust me."

"So I've got another question for ya. You ever Diablerize someone? You or your Sire?"

[Forn Clakes]

Whitney grinned, relaxing as Konrad chuckled at her joke. At least she could safely assume he had a sense of humour, which was handy. Sometimes, a good sense of humour could be the sexiest attribute. Not that she was thinking of Konrad in that way. Way too early.

Nodding after he explained the Rack and where Court was, his next question brought a serious look to Whitney’s face. “Fuck no! That’s like asking whether I take it up the ass! Totally off limits, right? It sounds fucking disgusting, like cannibalism, only much, much worse.”

Taking a moment to compose herself, Whitney realised that Konrad had also posed the same query about her Sire and she could only shrug. “Not that I know. He was involved in a hunt against some dude who had been proven to have committed the act, and was pretty heat up at taking the bastard down. He once told me that even though we, you know, have to survive however we must, crossing that line is the worst thing imaginable. He then went on to explain how he’d literally tear me a new one if he ever found out I’d done it. So, no, as far as I’m aware, he isn’t a Diablerist.”