(1501) Sterling and Galilei

[Thomas Galilei]

A pale figure clad in black, purple, and gold appeared at the Priest's elbow, gliding up with hands hidden in the folds of her sleeves. Her face was placid, a sculpture of white, painted wax, or perhaps a mask of porcelain and onyx, yet then the black eyes slid over to regard Thomas, the twin ebony pools the only sources of movement in that fixed visage. For some moments they lingered upon the urn in his arms, but what transpired within her necromatically preserved skull it could not be easily guessed. Finally, they alighted upon his face, and then the stillness was broken as she began to speak.

"Hello, Father Galilei. I would normally bid you a good evening, but I do not think such to be the appropriate sentiment for this night. It is a time of trial, upon many levels, and I believe that this evening will not encompass them all, but instead only introduce them. Nevertheless, I take solace in the fact that it is not I, but rather we that shall be facing these trials." A slow inclination of her head was given to him, and then she asked, "Have you had the opportunity to speak to Baldwin or Travis, yet? It had been my intent to do so, yet I found myself delayed."

Thomas shares Josephine's silent regard for the silver urn.

"Ms. Sterling,"--he bows his head to both Archivist and Priscus, unsure of which title to use in public--"We, yes . . ." It's good to know that the burden--in this instant--of Faith is split between them. "I've spoken with both, however brief, and expect, despite this, to carry one's ashes out this evening." His effort, as the saying goes, had been too little too late. Thomas extends his regard with a silent nod toward Michael Travis as the combatants enter the cage.

"I admit I have trouble discerning God's will in this, but will not cease to seek it. What of you, dear sister?" It would go without saying that she could expect his full support against the return of former Priscus Galloway--not in itself the business of a Priest, but Thomas feels, with the possibility of Travis' imminent death, the precious value of his remaining friend and confidant as well as the critical power base of the Lancea Sanctum in Sacramento. "Or is it too soon to say?"

[Josephine Sterling]

"Perhaps it is too soon to say, yet I do not believe that it is expressly God's hand which guides this event. Rather, I believe that these creations of the Lord have chosen their path, of their own free will, and it is that same free will which has allowed them to ignore that which God has graced them with. 'Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall,' and tonight we shall witness such a fall. Perhaps many," Josephine commented slowly, attempting to smooth a veneer of placidity over her tone.

Her eyes had turned towards the two kindred inside the cage, the two souls preparing to send the other into their final, eternal damnation. Her own soul, warped demon that it was, keenly felt the presence of the kindred spirits around her, and as it roiled in vitriol and hate she ruminated upon what she would do if she one day wished to end the existence of a kindred upon the earth, or if one wished to do the same to her.

[Thomas Galilei]

Enviable: his sister's clear detachment; Thomas can hope, at most, only for the appearance of such--the Face. For this, and other qualities, he admires her deeply.

His clarity is obscured by personal investment: time, emotion, by his own feelings of loss. By his pride, he supposes--it's not that Travis and Baldwin were someone's friends that pained Thomas so, but that they were his friends. And there's a fair chance, now, that he'll lose them both.

All the more to rely on God, his mind knows, but his heart rages at the trite little proverb, the stale impersonal truth of it. "Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall." Will the same be said of Thomas when he meets his inevitable end? He exhales when he hears her words, that perhaps many would fall. Thomas promises himself he will try to catch as many as he can.

He offers her his hand, more for himself than her. "Shall we approach the cage?"

[Josephine Sterling]

"Perhaps the arm," Josephine murmured as she stepped towards Galilei. Taking his hand, well, that was a bit too personal for the image she felt they should send. That was the sort of thing which only lovers did. The arm, over, while intimate, was more so a show of support than it was one of comfort. An important distinction in a house of demons. Thus she freed her hands from the concealment of her sleeves and slipped her arm around Galilei's, turning her head to regard him.

"Let's. Though if I am shot, do not let me fall, if you please."

With that, she let him lead her to the cage.

We going back to the main thread?

[Thomas Galilei]

An arm . . . yes. Her blood in him, though little, makes its display, would hopefully stay little. He assures her that he won't let her fall as they step forward.

Thomas is silent through the brutal exhibition. It had been said that the Monomancy wouldn't be a sports event--and that might have been the Prince's intent--but Thomas doubts it to a certainty.

Gratuitous: the slapping, the taunting. Thomas was a prisoner of war--he knows the look of pleasure in an assailant. He is a Priest--he knows what duty requires and what it doesn't. This was public humiliation, one man justifying his descent. Thomas smells Draugr.

Though his face is placid, his sister may feel the tightness, the slight shaking in his arm as the bullshit bravado reaches its bloody crescendo. He begins to wonder if this is what it takes to get Domain attention, to make a point. Is that what's missing from his own method? Would God be better received in Sacramento if Thomas wore a necklace made of ears, carried in his pocket a bottle full of teeth that rattled when he walked? If it should come to it, he knows whose ears and teeth he would start with.

Thomas knows nothing about projecting Menace as a Nosferatu might, unsubtle and lacking sophistication. He needs no cage nor spotlight--better that none should see past the calm contrived upon his face. A Ventrue does not fail in their purpose. A Priest is master of control. And a true friend never forgets. Forgiveness must come from God directly on this count. Thomas would hear no more lies from Baldwin about heartfelt penitence or expedient duty.

Live by the sword . . .

Only if you like.

Thomas moves to retrieve Travis' ashes; Josephine may accompany him, if she likes.

[Josephine Sterling]

Though her companion's hold might have been tense, his visage remained enviably calm, and that's all that mattered, the Priscus of Lords and Ladies thought as she realized that she could not keep her own mask from cracking. A grimace formed itself over her flesh and bleak eyes looked on as Baldwin enacted his fetishistic display of brutality. It was a grimace, however, that found itself twisting into something like a sneer once ash had begun to fall away from the newly re-leashed attack dog. That was what he truly was. It was the Prince, in reality, who was responsible for allowing this display of flesh's tyranny and it was more than fitting that his chosen weapon had ended up subverting the very intent of this event. What was supposed to have been a display of Order had become nothing more than a sadists romp. A play that had stumbled into bathos and scorn. Unsurprising, when considering that not even the Prince's chosen enforcer of the law was interested in ensuring order, let alone decorum. Perhaps the Prince was truly just a victim beset on all sides by incompetence, but Josephine was more than happy to place the sins of the fallen at the feet of their lord. Especially when she, herself, was one of those pawns.

Nevertheless, for all of her scorn, once the Prince's eyes fell upon them Josephine made pains to wipe the expression from her face. She did not wish to become the next dab of ash hanging from the attack dog's jaws. Not until she'd done something truly worthy of it.

"You've been called for. See to the rites of your friend, just as he would have wished it," Josephine bade her coterie-mate, releasing his arm.

   3 successes to hide dat look from Clarke

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2015-01-23 03:16:50		Jo-jo rolls 6 to wipe dat look off her face (manip2+subter1+WP) (10 Again, WillPower)		3, 8, 8, 4, 10, 7, 3		3 successes