1501 Monomacy Court

[Michael Redfill]

Michael enters the main chamber of the Asylum after finishing his preparations. He is wearing a black heavy leather jacket and athletic shoes tonight, hands hanging relaxed by his sides. The Beast, finally allowed to take advantage of Protean, is tugging him to launch forward and rip into everyone and everything in the room, almost forcing the Deputy to bare his fangs.

He doesn't, of course. Instead, he bows in the direction of the senior Court officers, giving an especially warm smile after seeing Martha, and then remains by the door.

It would be such a hassle to run to the door to block it when the losers' fear of death kicks in and they suddently decide they want to live.

[Erika Brady]

Erika Brady wasn't the sort of cheap harlot to show up in some sort of ridiculous costume.

Yet, her attire was entirely appropriate. The ignorant might miss the buckle, militantly svelte cut, or cross-neck that hinted at a knot -- all of which were subtle, tasteful nods at their location. A scholar had no boundaries, and if anyone were to wonder where, or how, Erika Brady had been able to make the decisions that went in to her dress selection?

Like most other questions about Erika Brady, the would be left wondering.

Slow, unwavering steps took her directly towards the Prince, but she stopped several feet away. When their eyes met, the Regent of Citrus Heights gave a slow, respectful bow.

Courtesies paid, she slipped away to an empty corner.

[Josephine Sterling]

Auggie and Jo-jo Continue here...

[Edwin Bridges]

Vivian & Edwin

[Cameron]

Angel and Julian continue here...

[Brownlee]

Thomas steps aside after the Prince's greeting, one to appreciate custom and courteousy without wanting to belabor it.

He smiles at the sound of a familiar voice. "Michael." Thomas embraces his friend, doesn't care who sees, what they think, or what side they're on. In truth, he doesn't yet know what the fight is about. Doesn't matter. "No, not dead--so there's no need to rush there to meet me anymore. Shall we step aside?"

Travis and Galilei

Michael Travis

[Max Heinz]

Max Heinz
Mask of Tranquility Active
Presence 3 (Nonchalant)

Asylum. Max hadn't been here in years. Once upon a time it had been an active part of the Kindred social scene; and Max had visited the fetish club more than once. Partially to converse with the other members of the Domain who had an interest in the alternative scene the Asylum catered to, partially because he had an interest in whether the BDSM practices could be incorporated into the teaching of the Ordo Dracul. For better or worse he had gotten his answers, and the Mekhet's interest slowly drifted away from the club; much like the Kindred clientele. Still, it was nice to be back on familiar ground; even if it was for something as macabre as another execution Court.

The Invictus could gussy it up with whatever fancy title they wanted, the fact remained that by the night's end at least one of the city's Kindred would be reduced to a pile of inert ash. Max can only hope this one will go smoother then the last; the immolation of Heathcliff Staley had turned into a near riot. Only the quick intervention of some of the Domain's more physically active members had prevented it from becoming a full-on Masquerade Breach.

He wasn't sure what the appropriate attire for a Monomacy would be, but at least Max remembers the proper attire for the Asylum; and if there was one thing the thin Mekhet knew how to do, it was blend in. He had sent his Ghoul out with orders to find the most stereotypically "goth" outfit his meager resources would allow, and Samantha had certainly followed his instructions to the letter. Decked out in a black leather trench coat, complete with embossed wings on the back, a zip-up sweatshirt with upturned collar, black jeans, and black combat boots; all that was needed to complete the look was enough hair gel to defy the gravitational pull of a black hole.

It was certainly a change from the man's usual Court attire; but where else could he get away with an over-the-top display other than an event where the main event was gladiatorial combat? At least his pale complexion meant he didn't need any make-up...

It takes a few moments for him to get through security, which isn't surprising, and it gives Max a few precious moments to steady himself for the onrush of Unmasked Beasts that lay inside the club. And what a crush it is. It seems Max was running late tonight; the sheer weight of fear and anger that washes over the Mekhet threatens to overwhelm the Man as his Beast stirs once more from it's slumber. Thankfully, a few moments of concentration is all that is required to lull his baser instincts back to sleep; Max letting his eyes wander across the mass of gathered Kindred.

There were several faces that were familiar to the Dragon already in attendance; most already engaged in the ever-present conversations that marked these get-togethers. Max was all to happy to remain unengaged at the moment. After all, Sacramento's Kindred weren't here for polite chit-chat tonight; the play's the thing. He offers a deep bow to the Prince, or at least as deep as his current attire will allow, but does not approach. It seems Clarke has enough well-wishers surrounding him at the moment.

Instead, Max wanders off to find a good vantage point for the coming fight. He didn't relish the coming bloodshed, but the violence inherent to the Beast was simply another facet of the Kindred condition. And if the past few years had taught him anything, it was the inescapable fact that there were some things even a Dragon couldn't change...

[Hildegarde Bingen]

Hildegarde had been enjoying her study of the various tools and implements left in situ; some purposes she could guess, others were cunningly mysterious to her. The Beast crooned while the Woman pondered... Many of the toys had applications she could turn to the Rite of Impalement she was certain - with a bit of lateral thinking, of course.

Her ruminations were disturbed by the slowly accreting press of Beasts building up around her. The weight of the Cacophony was as great as it ever was but she could detect subtleties now, nuances which she had not noticed before. The familiar was new once more, and with that came the realisation that her understanding of the Blood and altered too. The feeling of power which came with the revelation only served to distract her a little more, but at last, even that was drowned out by the white noise and the urge to squeeze, to crush, to dominate - twinned as it was with the sudden spikes of fear and the unconscionable voids in which the more rational part of her mind warned, lay the most powerful of Beasts.

She avoids looking at the cage and the sycophants congregating around the Alder Duke.

Quite by accident, she finds herself wandering into the orbit of Michael Redfill (oh the joyous urge to crush! To squeeze! To pour and pierce!). Instead her face makes an appropriate mask - a sneaky smile, hungry, malicious.

"Quite a turn out. I do hope tonight will be more than precious cage fighting. So gauche." A half turn of the head, shift of eye. "Why - you seem to have placed yourself well away from the action. You might not be able to see anything from here..."

A lie of course. With their naturally attuned senses, the Kindred could see and hear and smell to a much greater degree than the mortal herd; the confines of the club posed no obstacle - though the press forming near the cage might.

[Thomas Galilei]

Thomas makes his way through the gathered Beasts, suppressing his own, and comes to stand before Lord Baldwin. Thomas' smile is true. Baldwin was the second Kindred Thomas had met in the city. Moreover, their confession feels, to Thomas, like the only ministry of his that had gone right in the the city: Thomas's church was nearly burnt by the Deputy, and Josephine's branding had ended with his torpor and her nude streaking.

Thomas coughs quietly to gain the Knight's attention. "Lord Baldwin,"--the Knight is too keen not to guess at Thomas' intent--"I'm truly glad to find you well despite the dangers of your day-to-day. God has his hand of blessing on your unlife, the good that you do for all those gathered here without their knowing. Not wishing to offend, I had hoped we might have a word about the task at hand. As a man of duty, I would never question what you believe yours requires, but mine requires that I seek understanding and sow peace where I can. Might we step aside?"

Cross Peter Baldwin