With the kaleidoscope of Court seemingly freezing into place, the Lord stopped her drifting and let herself slip into an attentive pose. She allows herself to smile briefly and nod towards the Harpy Allison Black and dear Ms Tunt Claire Tunt .
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With the kaleidoscope of Court seemingly freezing into place, the Lord stopped her drifting and let herself slip into an attentive pose. She allows herself to smile briefly and nod towards the Harpy Allison Black and dear Ms Tunt Claire Tunt .
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With his office door open, even Dillon - in the shape of a man and lacking Auspex - can hear the clear tone of Martha's prim and proper voice addressing those gathered. The pen he is twirling in his hand continues to do so for a few more seconds, as he makes no immediate move to stand.
The other hand supports his jaw, braced against the large desk at the base of his elbow. Documents of every kind litter the surface, and many tabs and programs tax his small netbook to capacity nearby. Seemingly thousands of thoughts crowd the noisy Beast in his mind, putting it in a foul and growly mood. Only his near-two-centuries of experience at wrestling with the hellhound in his psyche allows him to keep any thoughts straight at all. And even then, problems were hardly solving themselves merely by holding them in his mind's eye. Despite the recent stability of the domain, there are always things to conquer. There are always problems. There are always attitudes. There are always other minds.
The pen stops twirling.
As the Gangrel stands, his mannerisms betray none of the weight on his broad shoulders. Dillon is spry, and precise. One hand places the pen near a spot on the desk he had been focusing; various reports from mortals on current situations, which he is still piecing together. The pen marks that spot as a reminder.
The other hand automatically goes to the tie at his throat. It's already loosened, and Dillon considers tightening it. Then he briefly considers leaving it as is. But as he strides between the coffee table in the center of the space, and the couch on his left, he pulls the tie free and casts it over the back of the sofa in passing.
Closing his office door behind him as he exits, Dillon prepares himself for the experience of Courtly politics at Elysium. It is a solely mental preparation, as he is physically prepared for the absolute worst at all times.
If a summoned efreeti abruptly fell through the ceiling from the club above, you can bet Dillon would be the first on its back; calmly cycling through methods of attack in order to find out which one is most effective. As though that sort of thing happens once a week.
Mentally, though, is a different story. Conversation with sentient individuals require a great deal more attention, perception, and finesse than printed reports and Kindred Beasts.
As he comes around the corner, the first thing he or anyone else knows is the press of other Beasts. Which makes the devil dog behind Dillon's thoughts lunge against all three collars. It snarls angrily with three snapping maws, belching threatening plumes of ash and cinder as far as its senses can reach. And then, gets brought readily to heal by its stubborn Master.
The Reeve wears a somber look on his face. One of almost disappointment. Not at Martha or her pending announcement, of course. Other things. The expression softens somewhat when he sees familiar faces that he hadn't in a while. But for now, he lingers near a squashy chair at the edge of one of the sitting areas. His hip shows a facade of leaning against the furniture, even though his feet are still bearing his weight. Powerfully muscled arms cross, only then revealing their shape when the sleeves of his suit jacket are pulled more taught around them.
Those arms never fold completely. One only lays across the other. A competent student of body language will realize that he looks relaxed, but Dillon is in fact ready to take action at the first instant action is needed.
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Kassidy blinked as a familiar sense of power washed over the court, and quickly glanced around that Dillon had entered. The small crossdressing found himself relaxing a little more. He gave a quick glance to Martha again, then edged his way to the Reeve and gave a small wave and matching smile in greeting.
"Reeve. I'm a little surprised I hadn't noticed you sooner. You're hard to miss." His smile quirked to one side when he said that; there was no way that Kassidy would want to miss Dillon. Not that he'd admit it, but Dillon's presence, for all it set his instincts off like fire alarms, was a comfort. He glanced back to Martha's announcement and let his brows furrow.
"Is this a New thing? I don't remember any Announcement about the Elysium rules in the previous courts I attended."
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Arnold Culler arrives, his large frame dwarfing the stairway as he descends.
He is dressed in his ubiquitous trench coat and fedora. The Lord of the Necropolis pauses at the entrance of court proper, surveying the crowd. His gaze lingers ever so slightly longer on Callum McCann and then on the Reeve, who he nods. It has more than several years since he has held that post. While his gaze does not linger on Brenn Lawrence, he knows of her. One of Grayson's posse that had entered his sewers.
Pivoting slightly he steps to one side, counting the scant number of Haunts that are in the room. His gaze finally rests on Herald Villiars who he nods to. It is her letter that has brought him here tonight. Culler idly wonders what announcement the tiny Shadow has planned. The absence of Asa and Twist does not go unnoticed by the man.
Giant; Pres 3; Mask of Tranquility
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Velma gracefully and elegantly takes center stage and gives a crisp outline of the main rules of the Elysian Fields.
It doesn't take long. But her presence center stage certainly allows Martha to watch Velma carefully...and fear returning to center stage herself.
It's like, she recalls a recent ZeroPunctuation video witnessed at on a friends iPad at a local comic shop, following Freddie Mercury onto stage.
I warmed 'em up for ya...
Before hurrying away to take her rightful place at The Ember Velma concedes the metaphoric rostrum and hands back to Martha.
Nodding gratitude to Velma then respect to the newly arrived Lord Arnold Culler, Martha smiles and adds;
"Thank you, Miss Star, for that update. Good evening to you, Mr Culler." she nods once more to Velma and Culler and then adds;
"Lords, Ladies and gentlemen...I promised an announcement. I shall now make good on that promise."
"I am declaring open a contest. A contest which is open to all those Acknowledged within the Domain."
With this she takes from inside her blazer pocket a rolled up letter. Unrolling she shows it to generally and in a dignified manner;
"This is a copy of a letter...it is a Warrant awarding the Regency ~ as Mesne Lord or Lady ~ of the Subinfeudantion of the Tenurial Domain of Valencia, within the curtilage of this Metropolitan Domain of Sacramento."
"Now, the original of this Warrant is concealed in a small and robust tubular case hidden somewhere in the precincts of this Domain. There are four other letters concealed about the Domain. Each is held in identical water resistant tubular document cases...typical of the sort used by artists or architects to keep their work safe from harm."
The letter she held and demonstrated is now returned to her blazer pocket.
"Each letter contains a cryptic clue to the next clue and, to make things interesting, also therein is encoded a clue to the location of the Warrant itself; though each clue can, I hope, be read without sequence. I worked hard to craft each clue with this multiple layering in mind."
"The cases may be found at altitude or at depth...they may require stealth or physical skill or effort to reach."
"Now, the basic rules are simple: locating each letter and the ultimate warrant cannot be done by breaching the Masquerade nor by the threat of violence to coerce the secret locations of letters from others."
"The first Kindred to reach the other letters must leave them where they are for others to find. Likewise the destruction or alteration of the clues isn't permitted. Such an act isn't very sporting and I shall view such misbehavior with displeasure!"
"Once found there is a second letter along with the Warrant. This letter explains to the Kindred who arrives second that they have lost and the contest is won. As such, this letter must be left behind."
"Kindred are invited to work together or operate solo as they see fit. But if they work as a team, only one person can hold the Regency by name."
"The finder of the Warrant must come to the Avalon Court to present their find and be awarded their prize. An official Court will also be held to officially recognize and celebrate the victor and a offer a chance for participants to swap stories of their Quest. Afterall, as the then mortal Bishop of Pennsylvania reminded us in 1908 about the Olympic Games; it is as much about the taking part as the victory itself."
She smiles sincerely. Doubtless showing her persistent English-ness in the hope that others will be Good Sports about it all.
"The first clue to the first letter is this.." she adjusts her hat and recites crisply and clearly from her powerful memory the first clue;
"We once protected from the terrors of each street.
Alack! In such a state we were crudely shackled. Bound to the earth's asphalted ore.
Rejoice! For now our alchemical resurrection is complete,
and it is upon flashing, argentine, shod hooves that we now soar!
Woe to those who's minds think only of stone.
Kindred with truer and Elemental Questing vision will see the heart
and reach their thorn crowned throne."
She lets a soft silence fall while those still interested ponder the contest and the intentionally cryptic verse.
"I shall be available should any have questions relating to the wider Domain. Though should any ask me the location of the clues; that question will earn only a swift spanking!" she seems in a high and playful mood now.
"Lord, Ladies...gentlemen; I sincerely wish you all well! If any Kindred wish to speak with me, I shall be over there..." she gestures to the piano and...nodding to those present, takes her leave of the center stage and...after smiling sweetly to Dillon, limps towards the grand piano and begins to play gentle, unobtrusive and melodic works by Satie.
Roderick had to resist the urge to laugh at the absurd sounding contest brought forth by the Herald. Personal rule over a section of the city allowing someone to decide what happens within those borders so long as the Prince wills it though a contest? It feels like giving the rank of General to the first officer to finish a Rubic cube. But as Roderick thought on it, it dawned on him that it was a proper test, hidden under the guise of a game.
Roderick had no desire to take part, no sense in burning a potentially useful bridge or building one that only brings woe at this early point in the Vampire's Requiem. The old soldier instead watches from the sidelines, seeing what moves everyone else makes.
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Kassidy's head jerked up in surprise at the more important announcement and pulled out his phone to text Catherine the news. He didn't see her here, but no matter what he'd help her get it. That would be... It was something that would help her, maybe. Just maybe the Chains holding her back wouldn't tighten around her this one time. He wish he had something to right that down with that was faster than his phone.
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Claire grins as her mind begins to tick through various meanings of the proffered verbal puzzle. With such thoughts turning in her head, and her conversation with Redfill and Raluca, she finds intermittent spaces to scan the crowd for those who might be suitable business partners for such an endeavor as this.
She is unsure whether to be pleased or disappointed at Kassidy's fingers tip-tapping on a phone so soon.
And Valencia, of all places. It seems she should speak with a certain religious figure of that community.
The Deputy noted Arnold Culler 's stare and met it equally calmly. It was interesting to say the least, as this was the first time the man had ever taken even passing notice of his existence. I see you too big guy. For one reason or another it reminded him that he owed Dillon Connery a report, and his eyes met the Reeve's as well. A nod with the hint of a smile for the man he delighted in calling 'boss'.
Martha's announcement was not entirely unexpected, although the choice of contest was. Callum's gaze swept the room for reactions but he kept his own thoughts to himself. I'll add that to the list. We've got a lot of catching up to do...
As the Herald moved over to the piano he reflected on the puzzle and resolved to action one the court came to an end.
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He was late to Court tonight, but that tended to happen when one started taking on so much. As Hierophant and Deputy Reeve, Doctor Swift found himself with less and less time to socialize. And now even Court was less of a social opportunity. Still, he liked being involved and his positions afforded him more opportunity to assist the domain than before, so that was alright.
Having checked his hat and coat but retaining his cane, Dr. Swift makes his way down the stairs just in time for the Herald's announcement. For a moment he simply stops, shocked. A Regency as a prize for a fucking scavenger hunt!?! He would be damned - and that's saying something for the Hierophant of the Circle - if some punk neonate was placed as Regent over his home because of a damn treasure hunt.
After a moment, though, he relaxes. This was just another test, he realized. While he was Hierophant of the Circle, he knew he was young and inexperienced for the position. He was, after all, a Hero of the Circle as well, not yet the Father that would watch and guide or the Hermit that would prefer solitude for study. This was a quest, and that was precisely what Heroes did. They went on quests.
Nodding to himself, he sets into motion once more. No one had yet bolted from the room, and the clue would take some dwelling on to decipher. So, instead, he decides its time to do some socializing. See if anyone needed to speak with the Hierophant, needed the services of a Deputy, or had some interesting thoughts on the newly announced treasure hunt.
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