(1609) Eternal Court

[Vampire ST]

Eternal Court

The Nox Populi Nightclub.

In the heart of downtown Sacramento there is a place of intrigue, excitement and entertainment. The modern flare of this venue is host to exclusive parties. The seduction of this establishment may take you away as you drink, dance and socialize. There are private services available upon request. The best DJ’s in town are in line to play a wide variety of music. Some of you may dine…as long as you have your VIP pass.

As Kindred arrive at Nox, they are discreetly met and led to the back of the club; some may recognize the area leading to rear stairs upward. The space downstairs is decorated in dark, rich woods and expensive furniture. There's a coat room that will also hold one's 'unmentionables'; namely, weapons, at the foot of the stairs. There are also private areas, dark, and furnished with soft couches, as well as meeting rooms with conference tables and chairs, and an area with several televisions. The Court area is decorated with long black and purple silken drapes cascading from floor to ceiling. Draped in elegant bunches and gathered into valances across door frames and between supporting pillars; the lighting is intentionally low, and the dull throb of music upstairs creates a low, rumbling pulse.

The common area circles the Court proper, and it becomes apparent that this is not decorated for a single evening. Small symbols note areas for Kindred only that branch off of the Commons, which will be necessary once those Kine privileged enough to see behind the Masquerade filter in: ghouls, herd members, or even devotees.


Another evening; another Danse. For some it will their first, for some it shall be their last. After all, this is the Prince's Elysium, and subject to the Laws of the Domain.

This evening might be colored by the pall that seeps into these nights. Whispers of Hunters and Brood, and a Bloodhunt. Whispers given weight by the absence of some.

Have they fled?

Were they Hunted?

Maybe Sacrificed.


Eternal Court is open once more...

Please remember that Predator's Taint is in effect and role-play is expected, or rolls will be asked for!


This is a great place to get Acknowledged

[Emma French]

Emma took special care with her dress selection for court. After all it was her first court since arriving back in town yesterday. She had slipped into Sacramento quietly, or so she hoped. She was staying with a former student who knew how she liked to work at night and slept all day, circadian rhythm being out of whack as the reason. The dress was a strapless black bodice with a floor length chiffon skirt that went from black into soft yellow, green, red, and purple. The dress made her look taller than she was but helped to exude the look of grace and confidence. Confident she was, for the most part. Graceful, well as graceful as a Gangrel could be. Her grace usually was when she was fighting, walking amongst the likes of Daeva and Ventrue was another matter. Emma gave a small sigh and walked to table to get an ornate hair comb. She carefully pulled her hair back and twisted the long black tendrils into a French twist then slide the comb in to hold it. She let go of the hair and felt the comb slipped and landed on the floor with a metallic thud. “Fuck, how do other women do this so easily?”. She picked up the comb and set it down. Twisted the hair once more and this time secured it with bobby pins. After 6 pins the hair stayed put and she slid the comb in again. This time everything stayed in place and she sprayed the crap out of it with hair spray. She put on her heels and took a few wobbly steps. “Stupid heels, why the hell do people ware these things?” She took off the heels and carried them to her red jeep. She placed the heels on the seat and left for court.

Emma pulled up to court and opened her door twisting herself around so she could put on her shoes. Once the heels were back on she started to get out of the car and felt a tug on her dress. She had somehow wrapped the dress around the seat belt. And the dress was now pulled high on her thigh showing her long legs and a little of her panties. “Urg!” After releasing the dress, she stepped away from the car and closed the door praying no one had witnessed that little show. She somehow managed to make it to the door in one piece. Once she arrived in the building she was discretely led to the private party area. An unnecessary but helpful deep breath and in she went radiating confidence, because sometimes you had to fake it to make it. Beast decided now was the time to start yanking at the chain and cloud Emma’s mind with negativity. Kill them all. They all will hate you. Blood, we want blood. The prince will want to ash you. You are nothing. You need to show them you are boss. Kill them all. Blood you little whore we want blood. Look at you all dressed up like a doll. Run free, leave here and feast on the city. Emma pressed her hand to her chest and leaned on the doorway for support. She slowly counted to ten taking in deep steady breaths, hearing the breath sounds gave her focus and helped her contain the beast within. Once her beast settled down she passed through the doors into Court.

Emma paused at the doorway and took it all in. She missed this place. What a strange feeling to be back. She searched for any familiar faces. The only one was the Prince. Should she head towards him? She stood to the right side of the door watching the Prince for a moment. Maybe if she stood really still no one would notice her, she thought. Okay, that is just stupid. You are here and you will talk to people. Don’t worry about getting titles wrong. Crap, titles. Why did she want to be back where titles matter and people get so offended when you get them wrong. See dumbass? Beast kicked back in. You are just a scared little school girl. You are nothing without me. Shut up! Emma thought in her head at beast. Emma continued to smile as she fought with herself and beast in her head. Hell, who needed real people to talk to. She had enough to deal with arguing with herself. She then shifted her smile into a full real smile as she realized what a great crazy bag lady she would have made. Her gaze refocused on the Prince and her thoughts on what her next move should be.

Emma's Dress

[unlimited sink]

The streets are alive with Kine. They are as variable as the weather, as turbulent as well. A dance or swarm of embodiment, of language and flesh. And blood. Moment to moment, the composition of the crowd changes about Henri as he takes the fresh night air. He's been walking for a while now, lost in the ever-changing throng, preparing himself for the events of the evening. Just a lonely old man, cheeks ruddied as if by slight exertion, in a sea of enthusiastic youth, neither annoyed nor covetous of their vivacity. Observing, always observing.

He stops across the street from the Nox, appraising its exterior. A cigarette is lit, slowly, carefully, and It sends a signal of fear through him. Henri, focused, exhales a plume of smoke and pulls the cigarette away from his lips, forcing himself to look at it, if only for a moment. Enough to show It the paltry limits of its power. I will not give ground on my desire. Anyhow, tonight he would face much worse: a room full of unfamiliar Kindred, each more threatening than the last. So, another drag.

Eventually, he drops the smoke and grinds it out under a polished, tan Florsheim. A moment is taken to, somewhat fastidiously, straighten the jacket of his brown tweed suit, matching waistcoat, and tie. Wire-rimmed glasses are removed, wiped with a small square of cloth from his pocket, and perched back on his nose. A hand is run through his shock of grey hair.

At just that moment, a car pulls up across the street, in front of the club. And out steps a beautiful woman. Briefly, she struggles to extricate herself from the vehicle, but Henri isn’t really paying attention, engaged as he is with his own struggle. Fighting against It, the irrational urge to flee into the night at the sight of her. He closes his dark blue eyes for a moment, seeking to compose himself, and when they open again she is disappearing into the building.

Nothing to do but follow. He crosses the street, entering the Nox. More Kine, crowding in on him as he makes toward the back of the club. Thinking: There is only cause in that which does not work.

Down the stairs and into the company of the dead.

He stops for a moment at the foot of the stairs, once again wrangling with the Fear Instinct that seems to whisper run, run, run. Surely, It speaks—but only through him. If he does not afford It the words, It has no agency. Stop your infernal stuttering. And it does—for now at least.

That settled, Henri approaches the woman he spotted outside ( Psychangel ). Stopping at a respectful distance, he offers her a courteous nod, “Good evening,” he straightens, a smile on his face, warm and inviting, “I am Henri Michaud. Recently arrived to the Domain.” His eyes follow the direction of her gaze, before returning to her. "I hope I'm not intruding."

[Alice Hart]

It hadn't been as hard as she thought to convince Robert Cross to match his tie to her dress. Something she would have balked at before her eyes fell to ash, before the weeks spent surrounded by the late summer winds; Notos, and the sisters three.

For the first time in her unlife, willingly she placed not black and white upon her dead-doll-flesh, nor the light pastel shades she was growing to enjoy, but a bright red dress. A true red, like a splash of blood against her ceramic seeming flesh, her ghostly locks meeting bare shoulders. Even as an arm was placed on Robert's as he lead them through the writhing throng of the Nox's club goers. Her eyes shut tight, even as she tilted her head closer to the Burned Man, taking comfort in the scent of him. What egsisted under the burned hair and skin, just like the man under the scars. She didn't know where whatever they had was heading, and she doubted that he knew either, but it was something, and they had forever to figure it out.

When the atmosphere changed, the places only allowing Kindred, or their thralls Alice stopped short, at the landing at the top of the stairs. The presence of two unfamiliar Beasts, let the Wraith's ice free. The Blind Doll freezes, as the Wraith uncoils, the weaker Beast dismissed, as inconsequential. The other, an equal almost had Alice hissing aloud. how dare they? This place was hers! this pla- Alice sucked in a breath. The frozen trail the Wraith leaves, thawed as she forces it back behind cold iron bars.

Even as the nights pass, and Alice learns how to navigate her new sightless world, social acrobatics was still outside of her area of expertise. Especially now that facial ques, and body language were outside of her ability to read. Alice ducks her head in greeting. Not knowing who these two new kindred were, but wishing not to insult them lest they prove to be in a position of power. Much had changed since she'd been a regular presence in the Domain. But as her head raises, the Blind Doll opens her eyelids, showing to all the hollow pits of darkness that remained of her eyes.

[Alessandra]

A new night and a new Court. This one would be different for her. Her first one as Priscus, and a Deputy. Plus her first one with pretty much all the family she had known ashed or gone. She’s still pissed that Konrad had gotten away as cleanly as he had. He should have been made to face his failings as a Priscus and Gangrel. Maybe one days she’ll get her claws into him, and it would be a day she would look forward to.

Anyways, she picks another vest for the night. This one had a high back of the neck and was a little dressier then some of her other ones. It was still held closed by one clasp below her bust, which was covered in a red, no shirt was present. Her little splash of color for the night. Black leather pants and her steel toed boots completed the look while her long hair was piled at the back. Maybe thick pieces hung lose here and there. Numerous, too many to count, tattoos were visible everywhere her skin showed, and clearly there were more hidden. She had chosen not to arm herself, one perk of being a Deputy, figuring her claws were more dangerous than her guns.

Entering Court, she was struck by a Beast that dared to challenge hers. Who does this woman think she is to enter and challenge Ale?! Her Beast growled its displeasure while another Beast, this one weaker, tempted her own to tear it limb from limb. Add a splash of Vitae to the walls, maybe an arm or leg. She sees Alice, in a beautiful red dress, and nods her head in greeting.

Wrangling her Beast into submission, she approaches the two, who she hadn’t seen before. Both were dressed up, which wasn’t uncommon, perhaps Daeva? They always seemed to like to preen and look their best.

“Buonasera,” greets the Italian with a smile, “Always fun to see new faces, welcome to Sacramento.” Her tone was friendly enough, “Who do I have the pleasure of talking to?” dark eyes sweep between the two.

[Robert Cross]

To Cross, the Kine that fill the Nox are below notice. Little more than obstacles to be navigated as he and Alice approach the stairs that will lead them down into another court. More than a few are shouldered out of the way. A couple of the Breathers look like they'll say something, until their eyes find his face. Angry words die on their lips at the sight of his scars and those flat, blue eyes.

Eyes that remain dead, until he glances over at Alice. And then, if only for a moment, they are filled with something else. An emotion that even he would be hard pressed to describe. Having her on his arm this evening is like a miracle to the Burned Man. When she pauses at the top of the stairs, he takes the opportunity to admire her again. He's told her more than once that she looks amazing in her dress. Words, however, fail him. As always. It almost makes him forget the whole business of the matching tie, worn with his usual, nondescript black suit. Almost.

But then, he too feels the pressure of the Beast. A wave of fire and pain that washes over him, tracing the pattern of scars that covers his body. An unholy mixture of rage and fear. He lets the sight of Alice soothe him for one more moment, settling himself before they descend.

Just as they approach the two strangers, Alessandra also appears. Cross mimics Alice's nod to them, then adds a deeper bow to Ale, a cue for Alice to do the same: "Good evening," he says generally. Voice polite, though gravelly as always. Before adding: "Priscus Antinori, a pleasure." She's already asked the names of the new arrivals, which saves him the trouble of doing the same.

[Asa]

Like most evenings, the Prince of Sacramento wore a dark suit accented by a deep purple tie. Some might have seen it as a sign of Invictus stagnation and lack of imagination, but the simple truth was that men's fashion was every bit as eternally boring as the wrongful accusation would have been.

The sound and sight of other predators intruded upon couture lamentations; igniting into existence with flames of hate and sizzling blood-thirst. With the rumors of Brood in the air, any of them could be... and the safest number was one. Even the hidden ones could be consumed in the rage he pushed downward until it was a dull ache waiting for a new opportunity.

The smile had never left his lips and widened slightly at two Kindred. The first being the newest to petition the Unconquered and the second at the absolutely striking Alice Hart. It wasn't desire or even her features that drew his eyes, but the contrast of rose-petal red and bone-white of her dress and skin. And the tie.

I remember...

The first night his tie had matched Ishani's dress. And did the man who had unwittingly claimed her title matched his tie with the same intent and sentiment?

...

It wasn't often Asa stared. But he caught himself staring in the dark pits where eyes should have been before turning his own away slowly.

Haunts.

[Victoria Stamford]

The rapid fire arrival of so many in a short amount of time spiked Victoria's curiosity and sense of duty given the state of the domain lately she couldn't afford to slack. She took several deep breaths to steady herself before rounding the back corner of the court where the hallway to her office met with the court proper.

Taking the few extra seconds never helped...and again she wondered why she bothered with the tradition even as the wasp buzzed and spat in the furthest reaches of her brain. It demanded that she destroy the trespassers before they turned on her. Attack before you are attacked! It screamed at her. The gorgeous brunette ignored it and mentally pushed it back to its hive with an imagined torch. That first sight of another with the beast was never easy, especially with new ones present.

The Ventrue noticed Asa and gave him a warm smile and a small covert waggle of her fingers as a greeting. She wanted to personally greet and get a feel for the new arrivals even with her deputies there already. Their presence was something she felt a little pride in, the fact that they were already there, it made her feel better about her choice in them. So instead of following up on her impulse she made her way over toward Asa and gave her new deputies a chance to shine.

She wore a short leather miniskirt with black leggings, boots, a dark sweater, and leather jacket. The whole thing combined was rather professional looking and fashionable. A strap was over one shoulder with a custom designed, zippered document tube, that an architect might carry with blueprints inside. Combined with her outfit she looked a successful young businesswoman from a hip new company.

Caretaker Hart though was a slight surprise. Either she suffered a recent injury or some strange power of her blood manifested. Given the way the two haunts matched and the way the two of them clung to each other, Victoria thought that she must be blind and that they have gotten quite close. The doll wouldn't be the first blind kindred that this city saw.

"Your Grace, handsome as always I see." Victoria purred softly in greeting. She kept the cluster of kindred and the entryway in her line of sight when she came to a stop.

"Aren't they just the sweetest thing?" she teased softly looking toward the two haunts with a smile.

[unlimited sink]

Before proper introductions can be made between Henri and the lovely woman he’d spotted outside, other monsters descend upon them. Like sharks, he thinks with a flash of fear. Recognizing Its hand in this comparison, however, he dismisses the thought, turning to offer the Burned Man and the Blind Doll each a nod in turn, that same warm and welcoming smile on his lips. If he notices their disfigurements, or their physical proximity to one another, it does not show. Though his eyes are too searching for anyone to believe he misses much.

However, it’s the Italian accented voice that catches his ear and he turns to face Alessandra . “Priscus Antinori,” he repeats after the Burned Man, as if savoring the words, focusing on their pronunciation rather than Its terrified protests. “Bonsoir,” his eyes travel up and down her form. It’s not exactly lascivious, more a gesture of appreciation, as if he is admiring a particularly accomplished work of art. “It is, I must agree, a pleasure. I cannot tell you how nice it is to hear the voice of another from the continent,” his own French accent is quite apparent.

“I was just asking her the same thing,” he says in response to Alessandra’s asking after their names. Then, with a bow of respect, “I am Henri Michaud, Scribe of the Sanguine Terror,” straightening, “or so they would say in my covenant, and of the Blood of Daeva.” As he finishes his introduction, he holds his hands, palm out, at his sides, as if to say Voila, here I am, before they are clasped behind his back. “As you can probably tell, I am new to the Domain. I’ve come tonight to present myself, with all deference of course.”

His eyes sweep the room, briefly, as he searches for Twist. No one fitting her description has appeared as of yet. How does he know what she looks like? Well, Kindred talk, just like the Kine, and every set of fangs in the city knows of the Royal Archon. Henri does his homework, though it wasn’t difficult to acquire a general description. Instead, he spots the man and woman standing apart from them. The woman immediately strikes a chord of horror inside him, he can almost feel It shrink away from such a powerful predator. He knows that such an image is a silly thing—It has no body to flinch with but his own.

The man, on the other hand, is the one he knows he should fear, despite the absence of his Beast. Like Twist, he’s heard more than enough about Asa Clarke, Prince of the Domain. Just as lovely a specimen as Henri had been told. And no doubt just as deadly. A deep bow is offered to both of them, though Henri does not dare approach until he is bidden to do so. Instead, he straightens and turns his attention back to the Priscus, “I hope your evening has been a pleasant one thus far,” his eyes move between Alessandra and the other Kindred assembled in their vicinity, including them in his pleasantry.

[Emma French]

A wave of anger swept over Emma when she heard thegentleman with the French accent. Hereyes darkened to a deep forest green as she fought for control. Beast hissed in her head, drain him he isweak. Just as she was about to speak tothe gentleman a female with an Italian accent spoke to her. Beast howled with the challenge. At leastthey were above literally sniffing each other’s butts like dogs. Emma steadied her thoughts before responding. With a bright and confident smile she startedto speak but quickly realized she did not know if any of these people hadtitles she needed to know. Mr. Michardsaid he was new so he probably didn’t have a title, but this beast in front ofher didn’t even say her name before demanding who they were. She probably had a title and would getoffended easily. This certainly was apickle she was in now.
While she was working this out another gentleman spokecausing another tug at the chain from beast and another flash of anger. This gentleman referred to the Italian ladyas Priscus Antinori. Awesome, stayingsilent and thinking before you speak has once again saved her embarrassment. Emma gave a nod of her head and said, “Goodevening Priscus Antinori. I am Dr. EmmaFrench, newly returning to the domain.”