2013.09.17 - The Dead Attract The Dead

There is a Red Cross charity ball going on tonight. In attendance are a lot of fancy people, and almost a third of them are undead. See, the Red Cross is actually run by vampires. This is a little known fact, and may not actually apply to the entirety of the organization, but it seems obvious enough a move for the more clever of vampires to make. Long-term planning for 'just incase' is what seperates the vampires who continue on to become elders from the parasitic fodder that think Anne Rice novels are real.
In attendance at this ball is someone not on the list, definitely undead, and just as definitely not a vampire. See, vampires in Gotham is something that Empress Necro was made aware of via one of her lieutenants, Marcus Cranston, investigating a certain disturbance at the Gotham Waterfront with a Shadow Avatar. Necro took interest, and rather than leave a matter like this in the hands of a dubiously loyal individual like Marcus, she decided to handle first contact personally.
A shortish woman, with slavic features and pale caucasian skin, bright blue eyes, and long, golden-blonde hair sweeps through the high-class hotel whose ball room reserved for special functions, parties, and similar is filled with the rich and well-to-do. She wears a gossamer dress of unclear coloration -- seemingly even shifting in hue and opacity at times. Like... She's not completely there in the room. In life, her name was Sasha Alkaev. But she has not answered to that name in about six centuries. She could have worn a Flesh Disguise to an event like this, but she decided to splurge on some magic and simply charmed all of the hotel staff and most of the party attendants to accept her as completely normal and as though she belongs there. Hiding herself is something she finds objectionable, so the most allowance she is willing to make is this mystical hypnosis.
It won't hold forever, and any number of things can break it, including a vampire using his or her own hypnosis to override it. But it shall suffice for Necro's purposes, and as long as she is not exposed to direct sunlight she will continue to appear as she does now -- a semi-apparition with a human enough appearance. When sunlight comes into play, however... She appears as she truly is.
Necro's purpose here is to approach a woman whose face and location she knows, but not her name -- beyond an alias that she is sure the vampire would rather not have spoken aloud in mixed company. She wants to make a business proposition...
The Sanguine Syndicate had it's hands in many things, both legitimate and much less savory, as most organized crime groups did. From assassinations to extortion to theft to charity organizations. Hey, even though certain chapters of it (like the Gotham General one) was ran by vampires, it still did a lot of good for a lot of people! You know, what portion of the aid actually reached the people. And a never-ending supply of blood donors brought in by a fictional 'blood shortage' certainly never hurt.
Bianca herself was partial to A-.
Bianca Tonetti, of the infamous Tonetti Family with their rumored ties to the Sanguine Syndicate, daughter and debutante of the head of that household, wasn't the usual person one would expect to meet at such conventions. Especially given that it was known she was little more than a socialite, some of whose indiscretions were almost legendary. But she regularly attended such functions in the place of her father, becoming sort of the 'face' of his legitimate enterprises. Many whispered about what a shame it was that the poor girl didn't seem to have a clue what her father was into.
Yet there she is, chatting up gaily with other well-to-dos thrice her own apparent age as she sips champagne in a silver cocktail dress. It was held up by a loop around her neck, leaving the shoudlers bare, falling down to the floor, save for a slit on the side for ease of walking that went almost indecently far up her hip. A string of pearls around her throat and a pair of diamonds dangling from her ears, Bianca laughs at something an older gentleman suggests to her, brushing her long, dark, loose hair behind her back.
She'd already given her speech at the beginning of the affair, and they'd already held the silent auction for handsome bachelors to help raise money for the charity. Miss Tonetti herself had chosen a companion for the evening, paying handsomely. His pulse had simply roared in her ears too loudly. Unlucky for him that it'd likely be the last evening anyone saw him alive again. Now promoters of her organization were making the rounds, trying to convince the wealthy to part with their money in exchange for tax breaks and writeoffs.
One of the young woman's bodyguards, are pair of hulking brutes wearing sunglasses indoors, bends down and murmurs over the dimunitive woman's shoulders. Bianca turns in the direction he's indicated, and spies a rather unusual figure almost... gliding towards her.
Well, the dead did tend to attract the dead.
Some people have been left alone or may be naturally resistant enough to her spells to take notice. Some may notice the fact that she is there but not piece together that she is... 'Different'. Some like Bianca's body guards, and definitely any other vampires. She wasn't trying to fool THEM, after all. They are -- to her way of thinking -- allies (even if they don't know it yet) due to their shared state status as undead. Also, vampires tend to have a bit of mental resilience in general since they have their own abilities of that sort. Thus, while mortal party goers seem to simply move aside without realizing it, without even looking at or acknowledging the blonde's presence, Bianca should see the odd behavior of the others and the odd semi-transparency around the legs as Necro approaches just fine.
Necro is technically not a ghost, nor is she incorporeal without the appropriate magic, so she can't just pass through everyone in her way. She stops a 'safe' distance from Bianca, not because she feels she is in any danger but more for diplomacy's sake -- to make sure Bianca herself feels safe. It's hard to rein in her ego, but at least she's dealing with a 'fellow undead', and that means she is not as chafed by the mantle of respect for others as she would be if she were dealing with the living. Of course, if it were the living who were to be interacted with, Necro wouldn't have bothered to come herself.
In a barely-discernible Russian accent, Necro speaks in English as she inclines her head as much as her arrogance dares allow in an imitation of a perfunctory bow. "I am called Empress Necro. It hast been made known to me the presence of thy 'people' here in this city. I have ventured here to discuss with thee a proposition." She barely spares a half-glance for the 'older gentleman'. If she must she can scramble his thoughts so hard he'll forget how to breathe, but for now she relies on simply saying, "...Somewhere prying eyes and curious ears may be less likely to face an unkind fate might be more fitting."
The vampiress waits silently, patiently, as one would expect of someone who's lived as long as she had. You either learned patience or you... just went insane. And she'd seen plenty of that among her 'kin' before to know she had no desire for an eternity of madness. So she simply waits, even as the people nearest her follow her eyes and see nothing out of the ordinary taking place or coming towards them. Just another party-goer or some such, whatever the strange woman has ensorcelled them with.
It's not hard for Bianca to recognize the signs of a hypnotic spell being cast, she had experienced magic before in the courts of vampires older than she, particularly the one she had spent so much time learning at. She raises an eyebrow at the introduction of the 'Empress', but otherwise keeps her affably congenial expression of greeting.
Self-styled nobility. In Bianca's experience that usually meant someone with 'grand plans' for the planet Earth. She doesn't respond immediately, merely turning to her guests, holding their gazes... and dismissing them. Not as a master to blood-filled morsels of food, simply asking them to excuse her while she dealt with this strange intruder who clearly knew something about her that she made a habit of not letting be known.
"Well... 'Necro', was it? Most of the people here are far too self-absorbed to do something so pedestrian as eavesdrop." And no way in hell was she putting herself in a position to be caught somewhere alone with a stranger with powers. "But if you'd like," She continues in that same sweetly conversational tone, both of her hands wrapped about her thin-stemmed glass. "We could step out onto the balcony for a chat."
She tilts her head coyly towards the veranda, letting loose of her champagne with one hand so as to pinch the skirt of her dress between thumb and forefinger enough to lift it slightly up. The other vampires in the room not the gesture as well, and begin to subtly position themselves with their conversation companions to isolate, and get closer to, the indicated area. The two burly bodyguards remain steadfastly mute, scowling around like overprotective watchdogs for their 'boss's' daughter.
That's fine with Necro. She is old enough to put together the goings on around her as well. With senses mystically based, she notes the movement of everyone around her within her range. She does not feel endangered and does not begrudge fellow undead who have yet to learn of her grandeur for taking the steps they deem necessary to protect themselves and their fellows. She nods her head and slightly, the faint smile on her pale face unflinching, the centers of her eyes where there should be black remaining white even when the light sources that might have been reflecting within such pools of cerulean are no longer positioned to cast such illumination. When they venture out onto the balcony, fabric trailing slowly through the air behind her in defiance of air currents or even her rate of moment, Necro immediately begins.
"Thou art, in a manner of speaking, akin to the manner of superior being that I am. To have transcended death and arisen not as mere mortal but something more -- something BETTER -- is a gift bestowed, received, or claimed by a fortunate few. An incident hast taken place by the water, in a structure for the housing of goods and wares, I have learned. By this route did I learn of thy presence and that of the others of thy kind. Thou Nightborne already hold a favored position within the ranks of those who hast accepted the invitation to become allies of the Empress of Undeath. For those who prefer less formal connections, opportunity still exists for mutual benefit. But the eldest of Nightborne oft become stubborn and fixed in ways that do not aid their futures or those of the rest of thine kind. They do not see the //possibilities// that an established power-base and fathomless resources can afford in placing our kind at our rightful place in the world -- as its openly-acknowledged rulers." Necro turns her gaze on the sky, seemingly perfectly comfortable leaving her eyes off a potentially dangerous woman and her bare back to any number of supernaturally fast and strong beings who could rush her from behind.
"This may be much to take in all at once, but the words have been said. If thou require further convicing, gifts may be yours -- knowledge, wealth, and more direct aid. But first I wouldst ask, the two most fundamental questions." She turns her eyes back on Bianca then, and in the moonlight she allows a hint of her magical aura to escape -- just enough for her presence as something other than what she appears to be to be felt. Her eyes glow with otherworldly power that hints at something far, far, FAR greater than a mere mage, or ghost, or whatever else. "The first question is thus: Dost thou desireth the power? The second question: Dost thou requireth more time to consider?"
As they make their way out onto the balcony, Bianca looks perfectly at ease, as if it were just another social conversation with another member of Gotham's high society during an evening of pleasant and mild party-going. The wind teases her hair and the hem of her dress, but she goes back to using both hands to cup her drink, tilting her head back ever so slightly as she faces the undead lich-thing before her, giving the appearance that she's a bit shorter than she really is.
Her features show a few emotions during Necro's offer, bemusement, surprise, a little bit of consternation. After a moment, she allows a sheepish smile to grace her features, leaning forward in playful conspiratority. "I can certainly say you've caught me off gaurd. Of all the things I imagined you might have to say to me, that certainly wasn't it."
She glances off into the night for a second, letting the cool Gotham air play over them and the muted sounds of the merrygoing within to pour out through the veranda. Finally, she simply tilts her head, and gives it a tiny shake. "...No."
"I've seen what happens when the mighty try to take the throne. And, Empress, the final fate of all Empires is to fall. There are no exceptions. These people are our food, and I don't object to ruling them. But from the shadows. The truly powerful are targets, trapped as much by their titles as freed by them. There is a reason I hide behind facade: because it is the cunning who survive."
She takes a sip of her bubbly drink, reaching a hand up to tuck a stray strand of wind-blown hair behind her ear. "If you have a business arrangement which needs to make use of our organization, then I'm listening. We are a for-profit organization, after all, and our payment need not be monetary. We certainly handle all manner of tasks. Is there some service you require?"
Necro's wide eyes sink just a bit, the light fading from them. They are not narrowing in anger. Her smile remains, though pale-pink lips purse slightly. Her expression is saddened, or perhaps disappointed. "Then we shall merely need to agree to disagree. When my empire has encompassed the breadth of the world and reaches beyond, I can not promise a position of authority for thee. But thou shalt at least be spared the fate of those who would commit the transgression of attempting to halt the inevitable. Some of the more elder of the Nightborne in europe have already been taught what precisely that entails. Thou have, thus far, shown prudence they have not. That speaks well for thee, and indeed there art another offer I came prepared to make of a business venture."
Necro turns, gossamer 'wings' at the back of her gown failing to catch the light from any source and yet seeming to have light ambiently shone upon them from angles where no light is visible. "Enemies of both thy organization and my own Empire exist that would benefit us both to have removed from play. I offer instruction in sorcery and mystic tools to thee personally, wealth to thy organization to both recoup any assets expended or lost and to earn thee a profit, and direction when a foe has been identified as a threat and yet would be best not slain by mine own servants. Each task shall be paid for seperately, and if ever there is a desire or need to obtain more aid than art provided by this business relationship..."
Necro turns her head to look over her shoulder, and her neck twists far enough and in a manner it probably shouldn't if there were truly flesh to get in the way. "...I art open to renegotiations of our relationship."
"Why, I thank you heartily for your mercy upon my poor and humble house," The 'young' woman splays a hand over her heart and half-curtsies, dipping her gaze demurely. Bianca, of course, had her own sire that she was beholden to when he was near, a fact which galled her to no end. And while she wasn't quite an elder herself yet, she had a hard time believing that those who were, those cunning, devious, powerful, and dangerous enough to live for a millenia or more and grow their power-bases across entire countries, fell so easily. But then, she'd been in the presence of the first of her line before.
It wasn't an experience easily forgotten.
"If it's simple eliminations you want, that can easily be arranged. We have our own special cadre for just such assignments, well-versed in most any target and quite capable of making all manner of eldritch and mortal beings vanish with stealth and subtlety. Knowledge is always a welcome reward, but we can leave the particulars of expenditures to one of my associates. I prefer not to burden myself too much with the minutae of accounting. It distracts from the larger picture."
With a small, gracious smile, she nods her head at the offer of renegotiations and the odd-angled head-twist. She'd had her own neck broken a few times. It was always rather unpleasant. "But perhaps before you go, a better method of contact would be in order when you need to... outsource your enterprises?" Bianca half-turns, still looking at Necro, and holds out one hand expectantly. The guard to her right, without even changing expression, reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a cellphone. The vampiress in turn holds it out to the other dead woman. "Modern conveniences make it so much easier than beguiling a room full of guests when you need something."
When the phone is held out, for the first time since her appearance, Necro shows noticeable displeasure. Her smile fades to a mere down-curved line, her head tilts up and back as though she were being presented with something odious (and perhaps she is, in her view). She says, "There art matters that are left to my associates as well. The handling of... 'Modern conveniences' is one of these." She casually motions with one hand towards the phone in a limp-wristed manner and suddenly the air moisture seems to condense on the barely-visible frame of something vaguely humanoid and bitterly cold. The echoing, rasping 'breaths' of the phantasmal creature remain steady and measured as the unclear definition of its limbs and exact position allow it to lift the phone from Bianca's hand without making any noticeable contact. Perhaps it merely levitated the phone.
"...The intent is still appreciated, and contact via this method shall be conducted henceforth. It is uncommon for me to approach or interact with potential candidates for alliance in-person. I wouldst not expect that we shall interact directly in the future... But over the course of centuries, things which ought not be expected to occur sometimes do." Necro performs a curtsy of her own now, and says, "The ensorcellment shall fade within an hour of my departure, or upon thou willing it to be so. I have already taken the liberty of according dominion over terminating the spell prematurely to thee. None who saw or heard shall remember mine presence or any details of our interactions -- except, of course, for those that were not ensorcelled to begin with." Her gaze flicks in the direction of the various other vampires back in the ball room.
"It hast been a pleasure, Lady Tonetti," Necro offers as she starts to float up over the railing and into a shimmering green mist that appears ahead of her. The freezing phantom has already vanished back into the thin air it emerged from. "I have sensed significant magical potential within thee. Give thought to the matter of instruction, would you?" Then the Lich coats into the mist. It reaches out to embrace her, sucks her into itself, and then is gone.
Category:Log