Shadows and a Lord

[Milton]

"Wonderful," Milton replies, looking like he's found a particularly good piece of produce at the supermarket. It's his, muted, form of excitement. "I will be in contact to make further arrangements. Thank you again, Priscus Durant." He says no more concerning the matter. Quinn had taught him a valuable lesson at their last meeting: the Nox is no place to talk business.

The rest of the Shadows offer precious little by way of conversation. Well, perhaps it is for the best, given their track record. Still, it's a little disappointing. Milton had hoped for something a little more lively out of them.

"Adequation, Ms. O'Ryan, implies a neutrality bordering on negation. If all is equal, then all is nought. I hope you don't plan on evaporating this evening," he replies to Maeve. A little riposte to see if he can stir a reaction, said is his typically measured tone.

Eyes flick to Quinn, perhaps she catches an amused twinkle there, then to Conner, "I wonder, does the Church have anything to say on such matters, Mr. Wells?"

[Quinn Durant]

Quinn nodded in response for a moment before offering a little smile. "Excellent. I will look forward to your call, Mr. Northbridge." And for a moment she took a glance over the court, taking the pulse of the place. The pawns were all moving into place, and the more substantial pieces were already in place. To bad this wasn't an actual theatre where at least you had the luxury of lights flickering to let you know when everything was gunna start. The waiting was the sucky part.

Quinn regarded Milton a moment at his little prod at Maeve, and looked to her cousin wondering what she'd lob back. Quinn found a level of almost irony on the fact that Milton was making commentary on banality. In fact she rather loved it, and gave Milton and appreciative look. Meeting his gaze a moment, and then glancing down a second nodding a little to herself and looked back at Maeve with a smile. "See...he changed his tie to purple and now he's got jokes!" She said with a little grin.

Quinn looked to Conner as well, some mirth in her smile at last. Even in court. Though they all knew something major was gunna go down.... the clock was ticking.

[Maeve]

Maeve raises an eyebrow to Milton, "Well, Mr. Northbridge, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to bait me into intellectual discussion. Negation is to be in denial or to contradict something, the opposite of positive. As far as I'm aware, and I am well read, adequate is to say satisfactory, meaning no tangible negatives. To say that their synonyms satisfactory and denial are even slightly interchangeable is blatantly incorrect."

So, effectively, you're wrong.

"But, thank you for engaging me in a word game. They are my favorite. Perhaps you enjoy them as much as I do?" she gives a sweet smile that borders on predatory with her smoky eyes, blue iris' piercing.

Suck it, bitch! ...God, I'm so lucky Quinn can't read my mind in here. But no, certainly Maeve isn't looking to start a fight. Just a little bit of fun with playing on words.

[Conner Wells]

So, more business? Milton certainly didn't seem the leisure type. Or maybe that was how he calmed his nerves; the brief glimpse of Milton cowering before Prince Antiori last Court flashed before his mind's eye. Everyone has their comfort zone to retreat to.

Milton makes his jab at Maeve and Conner resists the urge to growl. This is what Quinn had told them to expect :"take whatever bullshit they give you, because they took the same..." Turning the other cheek was beginning to grate on Conner's nerves. There was even a part of him, however dark and brooding, that wondered if Quinn had put Milton up to this as a personal test...

But that brief bought of paranoia was crushed when Maeve articulately takes the jab and turns it around like a fencing champion. The facade shimmers for a second as Conner lets just a bit of familial pride leak through. But he still didn't look directly at her, if only because he was afraid of what he'd be tempted to do if he let those eyes linger on him for too long.

So, the Lord wanted to know his opinion? Perhaps a chance for some gentler tactics."Contentment is a spiritual freedom too often overlooked. Certainly being thankful for one's blessings isn't a sin, if anything it's a directive. After all, if God rested on the seventh day and called his Creation 'good' then who are we mortals to judge. Contentment should inspire us to act out of that thankfulness for what we have." He would've added a bit about Lords knowing or not knowing contentment all too well; but no need to add injury to insult. Unless...
"You know, I'd been working on possible sermon ideas for once the Lancea meeting place is established. Thank you for stirring my creativity, Mr. Northbridge." He smiles and nods to Milton, hoping the Ventrue knew full well he'd just volunteered himself as a future sermon illustration.

[Milton]

Ah—there’s a little spark, a little life. The blue-haired Mekhet is not without some intelligence.

“You mistake me, Ms. O’Ryan,” Milton replies. “My argument is not semantic. It’s ontological. It bears on states of being and not linguistic meaning. Simply put, if ‘all things are equal,’ adequate, nothing is distinct and therefore nothing exists. Stasis is nihil.” A thoughtful pause. “Take, for example, Her Grace, the Prince. She is not equal or adequate: she is supra-adequate. Above or outside the adequate. And, by her position and power, she creates meaning and value for those of us in the domain,” a significant look at Conner. After all, is this not the theological importance of God himself? What Lucretius called the Clinamen. “The difference or gradient introduced by her power creates the conditions under which a place and meaning can be assigned to all Kidred in Sacramento, from the most prestigious down to the merely unacknowledged,” he says this last bit with a knowing smile.

But, speaking of the Prince, it is at this moment that Alessandra begins her announcement. Accordingly, Milton stops his discourse with an apologetic look to the three Shadows and respectfully turns his attention to what looks more and more like a public execution. His bland exterior does not betray his growing trepidation.

[Quinn Durant]

Quinn was for once enjoying court with her clan, and the addition of Mr. Northbridge was a lovely one indeed. She was digging the debate theme going on, all with playful overtones and very polite discourse. So much enjoyment in fact for a moment she forgot about the ominous tone of the night, until of course the Prince made her announcement. Quinn's infections smile, quickly fell to neutral lines. Quinn and Mr. Northbridge looked like male and female matching bookends. Peacefully blank, despite the churning sensation of sickness at the pit of her stomach.

She resisted the urge to give a meaningful look at Maeve and Conner. Oh they were about to discover what happens when you fuck around and find out in Prince Antinori's court. Quinn's stance strengthened as her gaze found the accused, and flicked once to Jennifer. She felt for her in this moment. Her index and thumb encircled her wrist as she stood to watch the show.

[Conner Wells]

Conner takes in the conversation between Maeve and Milton with interest. Is this what pleasant discourse looks like here? It's certainly not unpleasant. ​And yet there was just enough of him wondering who would snap first? The Shadow or the Lord. If nothing else he could count on Maeve's stubbornness to get her through today. And then what? What happens next? What happens with us?

Milton starts backpedaling...or as might say, 'elaborating' his earlier statement. This was the kind of discourse that grated on Conner: big words that served little purpose other than to flaunt vocabulary. As if he really cared about how her evening was. And there was Milton using some rather distinct language of the Prince. He was about to suggest if Milton was equating the Prince with God, when...Speak of the Devil.

And speak she did. The Prince's voice rang through the halls of Elysium, speaking of a terrible crime and its consequences. The pieces fell into place in Conner's mind. That's why she made sure everyone was here. To make sure the punishment would be public, be seen. He didn't envy Mr. Kowalsic's position, even though he was certainly there by a lesser degree. He envied less the other Haunts, who seemed to be in various stages of bitter acceptance. Is this what it looks like? To be truly shunned? To know that you were dragged down because of someone else? He drives the fears from his mind, not wanting to think of being in the Elder Nosferatu's shoes.

But there was fear still; fear born from Prince Antiori's deliberate choice of punishment. 'Lose your flesh?' That could be literal, in the Shakespearean sense. But Kindred could heal over time, so the injury would have to be severe to leave an impression. But there was also the metaphorical sense: flesh meaning family. And the younger Kowalsic hadn't moved. Cold, bitter fear seeped through Conner as he relived an all-to-familiar panic. But he holds his ground, he hides behind his stoic mask of a face, and he waits for the oncoming storm.

[Milton]

The punishment unfolds with all of the gruesome formality and stateliness that Milton would expect.

Mr. Kowalsic makes his apologies, and faces his fate, with a strength of character that Milton cannot help but admire. He would rather not try to imagine himself in that position.

Both the Prince and the Judex are beautiful and terrible, embodiments of the Devouring Feminine. Perhaps this is what the Acolytes are always going on about. He resists the urge to glance at Simone, knowing that he must not look away from the lesson carved into undead flesh.

He attempts to hide his apprehension, but it becomes increasingly difficult as the frame is produced from the shadows. Anyone looking his way will surely see that this public display is having its desired effect upon the Lord.

Look Strong, Milton: failure

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2021-07-20 10:47:16	Milton rolls 4 to Composure + Subterfuge (10 Again)	1, 3, 6, 7	failure

[Maeve]

Beautiful, terrible, horrifying... these are the traits of the Prince.

Maeve is about to respond when the Prince finally makes her announcement and she wishes she were shocked. Personally, she expected a complete death sentence. Or is this? Flesh? What does that mean? That's not a commonly used phrase, not in modern times. They are Kindred though. So, flesh for the pain or flesh as in kin? Oh, hell no.

Is she really going to harm the ... bullshit.

She watches in horror as it all goes down, watching Twist and she purses her lips, waiting silently, trying not to look away. She wants to remember this to add to her reminders of why she hates this society.

[Quinn Durant]

The charges were interesting for Kowalsic. The balls on this motherfucker. Trying to frame the Archon for his sins. Did he really think anyone would believe him? Quinn sure as fuck wouldn't. The position and trust Twist had earned within the court was such that Quinn herself went with the Duchess without hesitation. Twist had fought for this court, and continued to fight for it as the Archon. She supported the laws of Prince Antinori and was a shining example to all.

The sentence was just in Quinn's mind. Any who were complicit in this deserved the same treatment. She wondered if someone else didn't help this ruse. Was it all really just Kowalsic? The Mehket entertained her thoughts even as the shindig got on to the gruesome part. Her beast paced angrily in its cage. How dare she let herself be caught in this room with all of these monsters. The flight response kicked into overdrive. She shoved it down, and Quinn was once again deeply thankful for the Coil she had learned to have even more control of her beast.

Quinn looked to Milton and instantly knew he was not alright. The urge to comfort him arose. Quinn was not without empathy for those in her court. Yet, she doubted much the Lord would appreciate such a gesture. So she simply stood her ground as the example. The example for her clan. The example for her allies. Maeve and Conner were doing very well, and she looked to each of them now with a little nod, both for encouragement and courage.

"Mark this well, Mehket," Quinn said, very very softly, as things were about to get intense.