Fake Nice

**Clara E. Verne** · Jul 5th, 2018 10:59 PM

Leaves had just finished loading the last bit of Clara's unmentionables into the dryer. The Bacchante watched him using reflections and her Vampiric Senses. She was wearing short-shorts and a heavy brown wool cardigan two sizes too big over bare flesh. She was well-fed. Heck, she'd fed last night. So why were her eyes focused on Leaves' supple neck and her ears tuned to every slight beat of his sweet heart? I'm torturing myself. She dropped the thought. Introspection didn't serve her kind well. "Hey, Clara, it's getting a little late...I, uh, forgot to bring my toothbrush, but--"

She cut him off. "Sorry, my old man wants me to read these." A quick gesture to the unsorted mountain of bills, deeds, and notes dominating her sleek Ikea work desk. "Making sure the lawyer isn't screwing us. Maybe next time?" Leaves was already nodding when she apologized and Clara's heart broke a little. Leaves freely gave a deep kiss and was out the door. Clara was waving with one hand; her other was clenched into a fist so tight drops of Vitae started to poke out of the skin. It was only 10 and Clara was already regretting letting Leaves go for the night. She fiddled with her smartphone and the Bluetooth speaker at her desk started to fill her basement apartment with the beat of a song. Then she was browsing her contact list, partially entertaining a Lick. Davis' saved number came into focus and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a promissory note dated December 8, 1840. She shot him a quick text and hit send before going back to browsing her contact list for Licks. After two minutes she was already moving on to Instagram for sneaker photos.

**Clara E. Verne** · Jul 5th, 2018 11:02 PM

Spending Vitae for bookkeeping

Jul 5th, 2018 11:49 PM

Davis laid on his haven floor staring at the dusty ceiling, pondering his future in Sacramento. Far removed was his unlife along the Mississippi aboard the Dixie Lily, hosting a traveling Elysium for Kindred from New Orleans to Saint Louis and beyond. Under the protection of the Southern Lords, he was free to travel between domains shuffling from court to court like the Ace of Spades in a stacked deck.

His reverie is disturbed by the chirping of birds. Birds? Underground? Looking toward the source of the chirping, Davis spies his portable telegraph device. A cell phone the kine of today called it.

Sitting upright, Davis reaches for the phone. With a flick of his wrist, he flips it open and sees the indicator of a telegraph message. They call them texts. He presses a series of buttons.

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

"Dag nab it!" Davis cursed as he tried to access the correct function on his phone. After a couple of minutes, he succeeds and opens the text from Clara.

"Doc!" Davis's eyes widen at the thought of that insufferable woman. His fingers tighten on the device. Davis senses he is about to break it and loosens his grasp letting it fall to the ground. Luckily it was an older model and built of stronger material than the modern razor thin telegraph devices the kine lust over today. But Davis's temper was far from sated.

His beast growled loud enough that it could be heard from the mouth of Davis. Looking at the hole in the wall left from his last fit following last months Elysium, he took a swift punched and put a second one beside the first. Clutching his possibly fractured hand, he focused his blood and healed the damage and then some.

Reaching down, he picked up the phone and looked at the message again. There was a funny dot on a map beneath the telegraphed message. Did Clara arrange a sit down with Simmons? Is this a setup? Only one way to find out.

His beast was starving for blood and so was he. Davis strapped on his guns and threw on his duster to conceal them. In three steps he was outside his haven and heading for the streets of Sacramento.

Davis tapped a reply back to Clara.

He would try not to eat the cab driver on the way to the rendezvous.

**Clara E. Verne** · Jul 6th, 2018 12:21 AM

Clara had forgotten the text and found her rental unit too stuffy. It was a clean room, freshly vacuumed with the lingering scent of pine on the new Ikea furniture. She decided the one-bedroom basement smelled too much like Leaves. Or it smelled too much like he'd clean. Either one was an excuse to step out onto the patio with a borrowed laptop and a sea breeze scented candle. She sat down at a metal circular table resting on a wet dark green lawn, lit her candle, and opened the laptop. The still warm air served as a reprieve from the harsh AC.

She was pulling up her old bookmarks that had been set aside for looking into the notes. She was fine for now and was paid up on rent, but she wanted access to the literal mountain of gold sitting at the foot of her bed. And the urge to do it now had overtaken her. A few frantic searches had her find a promising lead to promissory note redemption limits, years, and forms...and then Clara got an e-mail for an invitation to an exclusive gathering of some of Sacramento's most depraved individuals.

That needed immediate attention. The blue-screen lit up the woman's face on the quiet summer night. Her cardigan was buttoned up just enough to be decent and her propped up knee served as a head rest as her eyes read over the list of attendees.

failure

1 success

failure

Jul 6th, 2018 12:43 AM

The cab ride across town tempered Davis's beast. It was all he could do not to let loose in a hungry crazed feeding frenzy upon the driver. But the driver needed to get Davis to Clara, so he would live. Unlike the last driver I had. Is that a memorial on his dashboard?

The Yellow Cab pulled up at its destination. Davis handed the driver the fare plus a meager tip. Penance for killing his coworker.

Stepping away from the cab and toward the patio where Clara waited. "You chirped or is that a tweet?" he waved the phone in the air. "Where's the Doc?"

**Clara E. Verne** · Jul 6th, 2018 12:54 AM

Clara was now cyber-stalking a particularly cute Instagram model's vacation through Europe. Europe would be amazing to visit...if it wasn't filling to the brim with Vampires old enough to remember the first Thanksgiving. She was lost in thought when the familiar pull of danger had her eyes snap to a cab that had pulled up.

She watched as a haggard-looking Davis stepped out and blinked at his question. "Its...called a text, John." She then titled her head at him. The Doctor? Doctor Simmons? "What sort of rumors have you heard to ask such a thing? All bad I hope." She was smiling as she asked the question, half-wondering who would spread such salacious gossip.

Jul 6th, 2018 01:06 AM

"Your 'text' said you needed help with some Docs. I thought that meant Miss Simmons." Davis preened a little as he approaches Clara. If the Doc was not present there was less reason to be prone to attack.

"No rumors worth wasting breath over, I assure you. If that changes you rest easy as you will be the first I shall inform." Pondering her question a moment. "Why do you ask? Is there something I should know?"

Now standing over her, Davis gestures to an empty chair. "May I?"

**Clara E. Verne** · Jul 6th, 2018 01:33 AM

Clara stared at John Davis. Her computer screen blacked out and now her features were wrapped in the dark hue of night. It was at about that time that she burst out laughing and couldn't stop until John asked for a seat. She was nodding and failing to stifle a giggle as he took his seat.

"Okay, okay." She said after a good long minute. "That one is partially on me. No, John, I just got some promissory notes and bonds that date back to Andrew Johnson and I wanted to see if you could make out some of the bank names. Documents, John. In texts you shorten the words." She shut her laptop and leaned into her chair. Her words were spoken without chastisement, mainly because she learned texting just last year. "But the issue is sorting through what's now trash and what might be worth something someday. And I was bored of it before I texted you." She shrugged. "Sorry."

She was watching John now. He was intrigued by the mention of rumors. "No, I'm not well-connected to the phone tree. Yet. Why, you trying to spread news about you taking care of that nuisance? Mentioning the blow you took might also help." Now that she said it out loud, it sounded like the right move in her book.

Jul 6th, 2018 09:51 AM

"Promissory notes and bonds. IOU's from the 40's. You don't say. Ha well, you do say. Their value will, of course, depend on who issued them. There were many lost investments after the War. Especially those who put their money in paper and chattel. Myself, I put my money into these." Reaching into his pants pocket.

What a novel idea. Pockets in pants. Pockets didn't exist in the time Clara had dug up.

Removing a small round disk, Davis placed it on the table with a distinctive clang of something of worth. "Gold, Clara. Gold. It is what brought me here in '49. The war is over and all the paper currency from the Confederacy is worthless. But that?" Pointing to the coin with a striking finger. "That still has significant value. Won that particular one off a drunk Confederate General in Vicksburg. Been my luck charm ever since."

Did she say phone tree? I have seen all manner of fruit tree, but never one that produces phones. Maybe she is referring to that so call Apple Tree that produces all those computers and such. A Macintosh Tree I believe its called.

Smiling at his internal musings. "Pay it no nevermind. My thoughts have been plagued as of late and trivial things remind me of past individuals. She most frequently." Davis stops to rub the hand he smashed into a wall. "She tasks me, and I shall have her. In due time. All in due time. If she can't see my value to this City then she and those convinced by her honied drivel, then my friend, they are blind. I say, let me quote my pappy on the matter 'I see, I see, said the blind man!' To which I reply 'liar!'. A blind man most assuredly cannot see, just as Miss Simmons and those she has bedeviled cannot."

Davis dare not say more, for all he knew Clara could be playing him and the Doctor is waiting on the other side of the door.

"Now about those IOU's."

**Clara E. Verne** · Jul 6th, 2018 11:49 PM

The clink of metal on metal as Davis expounded on the value of gold punctuated the pauses. She nodded acknowledging his words and wore a puzzled expression. What the Doctor was doing festering in Davis' mind was of little concern to Clara. A part of her thought on pressing the matter. Pushing Davis with every trick she knew to figure out how she could use this feud to her advantage. But the sentiments of the girl she'd been when living had a hold on her, and the thought left Clara feeling disdainful at her own half-thought machinations.

Instead she rose and sauntered indoors. A moment later she appeared with an accordion folder stuffed haphazardly with various bills, deeds, and promissory notes written over a century prior. Some were crumpled and creased out of lack of care, others beyond legible. She set it on the black metal patio table with a distinct thud and collapsed into her seat. "Well a suspicious mind may not be easy for resting, but it is useful for the Danse." She motioned with an open hand to the folder stuffed beyond capacity. "Behold, my estate." She chuckled at her own little joke. "I have enough squirreled away to avoid going with the more...spartan havens some have to resort to, but one of these documents could be my ticket to a proper dwelling. Want to try your luck?"

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-07-06 00:04:11		Clara E. Verne rolls 1 to Researching Esoteric Bank laws (Int - Acad (unskilled)) (10 Again)		4		failure

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-07-06 00:04:26		Clara E. Verne rolls 1 to Researching Esoteric Bank laws (Int - Acad (unskilled)) (10 Again)		9		1 success

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2018-07-06 00:04:37		Clara E. Verne rolls 1 to Researching Esoteric Bank laws (Int - Acad (unskilled)) (10 Again)		1		failure

Fake Nice

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