2024.09.20: The Abduction of Lizzy McCrory

The events of 09/19/24 had a profound impact on the kindred of New Albion. They are immediately preceded by  Fake IDs and fateful decisions and immediately followed by  Storm Ophelia.

## Part 1: The Mission

"You want this now, or after we're done workin'?" Lizzy asks as she navigates the streets. "Cuz, like, this ain't work safe."
"Darling, the definition of work-safe is not exactly conventional. What is it?" He looks confusedly at her.
"Emotionally punchy, and if we gotta focus, we gotta focus."
"I would rather get the emotionally punchy bits out of the way first. What's the matter, darling? Our observant will still be at work in twenty minutes."
"Okay... but fair warning, you are now a captive audience."
She takes a deep breath before she starts.
"I'm worried about us. Like, somethin' feels off. I'm worried that you're unintentionally usin' me ta pretend ta be more human than you actually are. Like, you're tryin' so damn hard to bend over backwards to try ta make me happy that it just, like, rings kinda false. It feels like you're tryin' to distract me, but I think you recognize at least that much."
He actually looks floored. He stammers, probably for the first time she has known him. "Unintention... Us...what..?" He takes a breath as his shock subsides, and he looks at her - no powers at all. "Lizzy, what makes you think that?"
Lizzy drives a little slower so she can do emotional labor and drive safely at the same time, but judging by the frown on her face, this is not what she wanted to do. "Madame Tonnerre told me a lot of things about the vampiric condition. How emotions are less subtle. Some might feel more intense, while others are deadened cuz they require more nuance. But, like, you try to spend a lot of time with me, and when we are together, it feel like you're kinda puttin' me on a pedestal. Like I'm somehow better than everything else around you. It's kinda overwhelmin', if I'm honest."
He looks at her, processing her words. "Elder Tonnerre has walked this earth for centuries, and I would not question her knowledge of what I am. I like you, Lizzy - you are special to me. How would you rather that I treat you?"
"I honestly don't know. I'm not sure how much of this is what you are and how much of this is me just havin' low standards with partners in the past, but I felt like if I didn't say somethin', it would just continue as it was and I'd just get more and more awkward about it."
"And... well... with the bond, I'm not sure if I'm capable of fully reciprocating what you're puttin' out." She looks pained just to say it. "Bein' with you isn't a betrayal to Mr. Gordon at all, so that definitely helps, but I know that..."
She struggles to find the words to phrase it.
"...because of that, I'm not... I can't invest myself as fully as I would like. That said, I'd probably run myself ragged just tryin' to keep up. You are super-attentive."
His face falls in a mix of sorrow and confusion. "I'm sorry, Lizzy - this is uncharted territory for me as well. I like you - rather a lot - in spite of the bond with Gordon. If you need space..." His voice trails off.
"I don't know what I need, really. I don't dislike you. Far from it. But if you're okay with me not being able to fully reciprocate, I'll do my best."
"I won't lie - it isn't ideal - but I would rather be with you than not. Besides, I have asked you to share me, have i not?" He makes an attempt at levity
"This is true, but that's a slightly different situation... unless you two have..."
"Unless we have..." He looks at her, waiting for her to finish the sentence.
She steels herself and keeps her focus on the road. "...do you two drink each other's blood?"
"We have - though I am led to understand that is common to our kind." It may not be what she wants to hear - but he tells her the truth. "We have greater resistance to its power than mortals - its effects are lessened."
Lizzy can't bring herself to look at Marcus, her gaze out the windshield. Still, her grip on the wheel is tight, white-knuckled even. "...this is why I wanted this conversation to wait," she says quietly. "Tell me more about this job."
He looks at her now, concerned. "This troubles you."
He does not go into details yet - there is time.
"Ya think?!" Lizzy blurts out.
"I offered you the same, to the only meana available to me." He is calm, now, understanding somewhat, but wanting her to speak. "Why?"
"It's different with me. My blood doesn't force you to love me."
"Nor does hers force me to love her. As powerful as out blood is, there are bonds more powerful still.
Lizzy looks at Marcus like he's just said the N-word, then pulls over. They're a few blocks from the diner. "Okay, first of all, it may not be force, but it isn't a non-factor. Second, we're damn near where we need to be, but we've been bein' all feelsy and shit that I have no idea what the fuck our game plan is when we get there, so, like, why don't we put that shit aside for long enough to get what we need to do done, then we can fight about this other crap?"
He nods. "Okay, here goes. Believe it or not, Gordon, Doris - our friends - are the good guys in this world. As good as it gets, anyways. There are bad guys as well - real monsters, the stuff of nightmares. There is a waitress at this restaurant who - like you, in a way - is bonded, and we think she may be bonded to one of them. We're just going in to sit, have a drink, and observe. I'm going to try to poke around in her cell phone while she's working, and try to get a feel for her work schedule."
"That somethin' you can do from the car?"
He nods. "Probably, yes."
"That way, we can finish talking, and I can try to teach you a little bit more about the world you've found yourself thrust into"
"That... that's not what I was gonna go with." Lizzy shakes her head. "I was thinkin' if I go in alone, it's less suspicious. I can more convincingly bitch about my work shift not too far away."
He ponders for a moment. "You're right." The phone is out, a photograph of the woman from his dossier is passed before her. "This is your target."
Lizzy looks it over. "Mmkay. Anything in particular I should look out for?"
"Watch how she interacts with patrons, watch how you feel around her - I believe she is using a very limited power on her customers - possibly a power you share. Actually..." He looks at her for a moment. "You have access to some of the powers that Gordon and I possess. That access is limited, but let me show you the one she uses - and try to teach you to use it yourself, if you can."
"Mmkay..." She sounds less certain of that.
"When I turn this on, you should feel something in your own blood - it will not be strong - pay attention to that feeling. Now." He closes his eyes - more for show than anything else - and activates Awe - his eyes open and are a flash in the darkness - like Gordon's, but not quite.
"Lizzy, what do you feel?"
"Less annoyed at you," she replies as she turns to look at him. "More inclined to look at you, for sure."
Marcus' voice is still soft, but there is a depth to it, a power drawing her in."
"That's good - now dig deeper - not into your heart, but into your veins - try to feel your blood's reaction."
Lizzy looks a little perplexed at Marcus' request, but she closes her eyes, as if that will help with... something... "So... when you do that, what do you feel?"
He ponders the question for a moment focusing on himself before answering. "When I do this, I feel - I condense, somehow, and I feel like I'm on a stage. Your face - everyone's face - goes dim. It's like an intense concentration..." He pauses. "I don't know if you have this gift... and I was never taught to teach."
He looks lost in thought a moment. "It is intense self-centeredness, focused outward." In summation.
"So, like, big dick energy."
He looks at her, having clearly never heard the expression before.
Lizzy sighs. "When you have a big dick, and know it, and thus don't need to compensate for anything, and you have the extra swagger to go with it."
"Obviously a concept invented by people with small dicks, but yes, we'll go with that for a start. Except translate that to being on stage." New expression, but he gets the idea.
"That's a little harder for folks who don't normally perform at that scale, but based on what you've described, I could see why someone would use that. Hell, I'd use it to get better tips."
"That's what she's doing - but using our powers for reasons like that is beneath us. It is beneath YOU. Nevertheless, try it on me. I don't know if you possess the ability or not, but we can only try." His smile is genuine.
"On one condition. You tell me how to turn it off."
"Regain your focus on one person - me, in this case."
Lizzy frowns a little, grumpy that her idea is somehow not deemed acceptable. "Maybe in a slightly safer environment, but now I at least know what to look for."
He nods "It's subtle - and dangerous. But I will be here if you need me." He trusts her, it seems, and he gives her a smile. "Darling, you know I care for you - very much. We will sort this out."
She nods, then takes a breath. "I think I'ma walk from here, then ping you when I'm ready. That way, it'll look like I'm callin' a Lyft. You okay drivin' a mid-market car?" she asks with a wry grin.
His response is deadpanned "Are you sure this is a car?" He leans over to kiss her as she gets out, and withdraws a book from a pocket somewhere before getting into the driver's seat.
Lizzy returns the kiss quickly, but can't seem to get out of the car fast enough. She makes the walk from there, heading to the restaurant in the hopes of a late night meal and a chance to vent...
Marcus watches her, and pulls away, finding a spot around the corner with a bench under a tree, and a lamppost - where he can still see the restaurant. He sits, paperback in hand, and he waits for her call.
*The remainder of this scene is redacted. The result, however, was a car chase and a deliberate hit-and-run by Marcus at what appeared to be two children, at the corner of 12th and Willingham. This resulted in a car accident, with Lizzy's Prius a complete write-off. Marcus escaped on foot; Lizzy was kidnapped by the Sabbat.*

## Part 2: The Chaos

   Following the abduction of Lizzy McCrory, the city is plunged into further chaos. News reports begin to circulate of a hit-and-run involving two children, with Marcus' name linked to the assumed stolen car. A massive electrical fault occurs, rendering the majority of the city's cameras and many kindreds' cellphones useless.

Quickly, the kindred begin to mobilize. Marcus Antoninus makes it to Gordon Tower, where he meets Doris Valeria Ashview and Marcel "Marcus" Gordon VI; Doris Valeria Ashview and Veronica Black go to rescue Lizzy McCrory; Gavin Sheridan volunteers with the help of Dre-Son to shut down all media reports.

Lizzy is eventually rescued, although she is found in a revealing dress. The story continues later that night in Storm Ophelia.

* Gordon Tower
* Executive Outcomes
* Bon Vivant Streets
* Executive Outcomes 2

This is Channel 12, serving New Albion 24 hours a day with our award winning coverage. From the Metro Park to NAU, North Albion to Hibernia, THIS is Channel 12.
The beautiful, blonde face of Carly Behr appears on screen.
"And, ha ha, I guess next time, little Cheeto will have to wear his bandido outfit. Wasn't that adorable? One moment. ::pause, smile vanishes:: This just in. We're getting reports of an accident at the junction of Willingham and 12th. We're not sure if anyone's hurt at present, but it sounds like it's gonna really hit the morning commute. We now go live to our cameras on scene."
Grainy footage of a camera crew trying to film the totaled wreck of a Toyota Prius, powder blue, the car smashed throughout its crumple zones and the airbags hanging limply in the seats. The doors have been flung open. Nobody is visible. Red and blue lights flash, sending the lighting of the scene into chaos. Shapes crowd around the steaming wreck, the nearest tyre twisted at an obtuse angle. Almost immediately police officers descend, pushing the cameras back as they set up a cordon. The image minimizes down into the corner as it returns to the blonde-haired anchor::
"We aren't aware if anyone has been hurt, although it would appear... this just in. New Albion Police Department are appealing for information regarding the driver of a powder-blue Toyota Prius which was involved in a hit-and-run collision earlier tonight at the junction of Willingham and 12th. The driver is believed to have fled the scene. We're not sure if the Prius was stolen or if its owner was involved at present, and, again, we are yet to confirm if anyone has been injured. Currently, all traffic is advised to avoid both 12th and the Willingham turnoff for the Expressway, which is blocked in both directions. We'll be staying with this story as it develops. If you have any information, you can call our RangerLine on..."
*An hour later*
"... And back to our top story tonight. Police are eager to speak with a man believed to have been involved in a hit-and-run collision at the junction of Willingham and 12th. A police spokesperson described the figure as "a white male, aged in his late 30s to early 40s, around six foot in height with dark hair". A source has informed Channel 12 that police are currently attempting to contact the owner of the Prius, who is not believed to be the man sought in relation to the incident.
"Once again, 12th is currently under cordon and the Willingham turnoff is under diversion down Roman Way. If you have any information regarding the incident, you can contact the NAPD directly or call Channel 12's RangerLine. I'm also asked to remind viewers that if you have footage for broadcast, to please contact the studio directly."
The camera pans out of the studio, cutting to an advert of an old man dressed as a cowboy complaining about his prostate, the gent looking straight at the screen as numerous side effects about death and dismemberment scroll below "I went to the doctor and told 'im IT HURTS WHEN I PEES!"...
*Two hours later*
The manufactured, bottle-blonde image of the local news anchor smiles as the program returns, as she stands in front of a background that shows the fading dark across New Albion. For those who are really observant, for some reason she has moved her mic from one side of her blouse to the other.
"... And as we head toward morning rush hour, I'm happy to say 12th is now open to one lane of traffic and the diversion at the Willingham turnoff has ended. This following a crash at the junction which led to several hours of lane closure. NAPD confirm they are still attempting to contact the driver of the vehicle involved in the accident. As always, our RangerLine is open for anyone with information.
"Channel 12 is also receiving reports of some technical difficulties tonight around New Albion. We’re currently waiting for additional sources to confirm the exact nature of the problem. The good news is that if you’re fixin’ to go to work this morning, all Metro systems and the monorail are reporting a full, on-time service, and if we take a gander at our traffic cameras on Roman Way, you can see everything is following smoothly into downtown.

"You’re watching *Rise & Shine*, I’m Carly Behr. Now if y’all missed it earlier, here’s a treat to brighten up your day. Cheeto, one brave little chihuahua, has been raising money to fight canine cancer by re-enacting his favorite movie scenes - with a little help from his owner, of course. Hannah Wang has more..."
In the underground parking garage of Gordon Tower, there is a bustle of activity. Black SUVs are being loaded with equipment. What appear to be SWAT members are checking gear. There is much evidence of the Gordon Industries logo. There is also a smallish redheaded woman chatting with a middle-aged man chewing idly on an unlit cigar. Both are wearing tactical armor. His right shoulderpiece has a stylized tower on it in Ventrue blue. Hers has a red icon that, on inspection, is a chesspiece.
A Black SUV enters the facility and the team helps out @Marcus Antoninus from the vehicle. He has scratches and pieces of windshield glass still on him. His clothes are ruined and is missing a shoe.
He thanks the team that helped him out of the car, and turns to the others - looking for his Pelican case as well.
They remove it from the SUV but keep it in custody for review. One of the Tac team herds you to the triage bay for a check over and tope off.
There is no point in running around - he allows himself to be led to the medic, and asks that a tactical suit be brought over in the meantime.
Doris looks up, frowns, then folds her arms. She is clearly ill-disposed to stand on protocol. The triage team might move slightly more briskly.
Rooke looks at Marcus and says, "You are grounded right now until you are checked out and debriefed, Mr. Gordon's procedural orders."
"May I have a word first, Lieutenant?" Doris' voice is crisp.
He turns to Rooke. "Understood Lieutenant. If your team is quick, you may get the ghoul."
His voice drops low. "Get her back, Lieutenant."
"Yes Miss Ashview, you may. I have people to get on the streets. The phone signal is gone from the 9-1-1 calls so I think they destroyed the phone. We have a bit of work to do."
"Is Chief Bradshaw still monitoring the car?" Marcus is currently being ignored in a manner that suggests Doris is more than aware he is right there.
Maybe it is coming down off of whatever the adrenaline is, but he sits, now. Quietly, despondent, watching the team assemble - not reaching to check his weapon.
"They started to dip through alleyways and industrial complexes. Their evasion techniques are decent. We have been running programs to deduce their locations with spotting on our cameras when we see them. It will take a little time, and first team is on the road with the second heading out right now. they seem to be circling around the Bon Vivant district just no end location yet."
"Get her back. And ash the ones that took her." Quiet, defiant - his emotions are clearly in a yo-yo.
"Get him in Triage now before I muzzle him, "Rooke Orders and a few more men forcible escort you to Triage.
He goes, quietly, for now, muttering "It's just a scratch."
"I did not dismiss him." Quietly. "I wield His Majesty's authority as Seneschal."
"Interview him in Triage, he needs to calm down."
"I am aware of your job. Mine is to get things done, and I am doing it in My Lord's House."
"Fine." Doris acquiesces and follows the team. The heels of her jump boots click on the cement.
"Thank you," Rooke says gratefully when she turns and leaves. He then gets back in getting the third team out the door.
The moment they are out of eye and earshot of the tactical teams, Doris stops the forward progress. "You. Out." The escort is dismissed.
Marcus is sitting again, eyes down, his expression is pure sorrow.
There are a few measures beats. Then, without much telegraphing or warning, the Seneschal of New Albion hauls off and backhands the disconsolate neonate. It is reminiscent of a medieval noble chastising an underling. Or the mistress of a Victorian household.
Medical is staying as they are checking the wound and pulling out a blood bag to make sure Marcus drinks it.
He reels from the blow, he did not see it coming, and looks up, waiting.
"What were you thinking? You let her go alone." The voice is cold, flat. "I trusted you."
There is a pause. The Siren commences pacing. His Majesty's ghouls shift uncomfortably, clearly more interested in leaving than doing their jobs. Angry Irish Elder is clearly in a temper to hurt someone. "Marcellus trusted you. Explain your stupidity, and quickly."
"She made the argument that it was sounder tactically - for the purposes of fulfilling our objective - that she go in alone and observe. I agreed. We were in communication by text through the evening." His voice cracks. "I saw her speak with a woman who arrived - the woman I was chasing - and sent instructions not to go with her. She didn't follow instructions and got in the car anyways."
"Because your target is undoubtedly another Kindred, you idiot child. Did you think anything through before you left on this utter clusterfuck?" Snarled. "The Sabbat have members of all the pillar Clans among their numbers."
More pacing. The dressing down continues. "She is your responsibility but my asset and Marcellus' ghoul. You have caused to become mislaid a piece of Elysium and property of the Crown."
He answers her quietly, his heart clearly heavy "I thought through everything - she said it would be less conspicuous for her to go in and observe the other ghoul. I should have insisted."
There is only an exasperated, disappointed sigh. Doris runs both hands through her hair, then ties it back in a ponytail.
"However we still need to get her back - and bring in the ghoul we were trying to observe, if she's still at work."
"What we? I am off to clean up your mess."
"The last time I checked, part of the function of leadership was cleaning up one's own messes." He rises, now, resolute if naught else.
"Sit. Down." The icy tone cuts like a whip. There is something in her body language and tone that has a hint of compulsion in it.
He sits, quiet for a moment. "So what can I do?"
"Keep out of the way." With that, Doris turns on her heel and begins stalking back towards the parking garage and her ride.

He nods, quietly, and turns to make the short walk to his own Haven.
It doesn't take long for Marcus to arrive home. He pours himself a drink, and walks upstairs to his bank of computers. His face is a mixed expression of grief, worry, and resolve. His whisky is cold across his tongue, and he quickly logs into the security camera network around the city - checking the area around the restaurant he left not long ago for signs of activity - signs of the wet-work teams that had assembled at Gordon Tower earlier - and evidence that the ghoul he was looking into was still inside the restaurant.
As Marcus looks through he hears a verbal beatbox...
*Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...*
For the Siren Siren (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
You think you’re sweet (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
But you’ll never find this Beat (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
The notes you will hear, are quite sour (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
Because secretly you want to cower (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
Caitie is gone.
She left after the accident.
He looks startled at the sound, and settles in to work, asking only once. "Can you hear me?" to the sound of the beatbox. He takes the photograph of the ghoul, and feeds it through the city's database of driver's licenses and facial recognition software.
She has no car and has a bus pass. Her base financials are well, but fluxes as a restaurant staffer. Her last purchase was a uber to The Rose
And then he shakes his head, putting two and two together - making a mental note to have a quiet word with Doris' son and his friend at their new place of business.
*For the Siren Siren (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)*
You just coast(Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
We know how you like to boast(Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
You can not pay this off with boons(Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
And you won’t want to hear my tunes(Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
*For Siren Siren (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)*
You think your fine (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
But all you give me is feedback whine (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
You think you know just how she ticks (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
But can’t keep up with her music (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
At this point, he puts the music out of his head, and sits down at his computer, beginning to type.
*For the Siren Siren (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)*
Hear that boom (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
We all know it is your doom (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
Your heart is breaking on the floor (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
Shattered by her own discord. (Boom Chicka Boom Chick Boom Chicka Boom...)
Hey, Marcus, When you hear the screaming it's too late to run. The siren might sing but the Discord causes anguish. Put her in that position again and you won't have time to know anguish.
Marcus presses a few buttons on his computer, grins quietly, and rummages through his supplies as the program executes, finding an old microphone. He sips his drink first before a few lines of (admittedly quite poor) beat poetry as he walks out hisfront door into the night - dropping the microphone as he leaves.
As you leave your home you are stopped by two Gordon Industries Men. "We have orders to keep you put. Police are looking for you right now, and you have been here all night."
A window rolls down, "You should listen to them," Dre says after the window to his car is pulled down, "If it wasn't for them you'd be listening to me. Before you ask Doris gave me the address."
One of the men turns to Dre-Son and point for you to go. he doesn't look happy.
Dre just laughs and leaves.
He just looks at the two of them for a moment, and shakes his head with an odd grin on his face. "Well, gentlemen, I won't give you a hard time, though that's a rather anti-climactic end to the evening. I have whisky inside, if you'd like."
Vroom Vroom Not A Prius.
"We are on duty, but thanks."
He shrugs - there are clearly no hard feelings towards Gordon's men - and turns to walk back into the condo. He looks back to where @Dre-Son has pulled away. "I wonder if he knows he's been flooded out yet?" It's mused quietly to himself.
As he turns into the room, he wanders towards his sofa, cursing silently that the novel he was reading was left in Lizzy's destroyed car. He goes to the bookshelf - restless, worried, and takes something off. Walking back to the sofa, he settles in to begin anew. A few pages. A few steps back to the shelf. A sent text. A new book - hardback this time, his fingers seeking comfort in warm, soft leather.
Another 20 pages. He isn't in the mood for Dostoyevsky. Back to the bookshelf before he notices his whisky is gone. He refills it, and returns, scanning the titles for a piece of security as he waits.
He still stirs now, and sends a text. Looking every few seconds for a reply, the worda into thin air "Are you there?" A moment "Did you find her?"
He waits a moment for a reply before hurling his glass at the wall in anger - in frustration - it is a stress response.
He sits a moment - collapses more like it - before rising and walking to the kitchen. The alcohol doesn't help, but it is there, there is pleasure.in it still. He opens the cupboard, swearing at the realization that Doris had broken his other whisky glass a few weeks ago. The bottle will do, he supposes, and he trudges towards the bar.
He sits still, lost in the bottle and time passes - maybe 15 minutes, maybe more, and he walks towards his computer. He built Doris' phone, and programmed the security features. It's time to find her.
Que?
Marcus is tracking Doris' phone's location. And he's the one who wrote and installed the security protocols.
As he's working on this, his phone chirps. He's received a text.
Additional text chirp.

He replies to both texts - and his phone begins to smoke. Quickly, he empties his trash bin on the floor and drops the phone into it, shaking his head in wonder. He turns back to his computer and swears - loudly - as he sees that it, too is broken. He sighs, unplugs the computer and opens the case - he may as well get something useful done.
Doris is filtering through her mail as she stalks out to the Standard Nondescript Black SUV favored by Procedural Crime Dramas everywhere. She pauses, studies an address, then pulls up the link Marcus sent her. She compares the starting point of his feed with the addresses of a restaurant called "Lasso LaRue" and frowns. She then hands the flier for "The Rose" to the driver of the vehicle. Veronica Black wordlessly follows Doris out
Doris proceeds to text Lieutenant Rooke and Chief Bradshaw the following: [Address of the Rose] and "Red Queen"
reaches under her billowy skirt and withdraws a Beretta Px4 Storm handgun and occupies herself checking the weapon
“Any idea what we’re getting in to?”
"Oh just...kicking in the door of a suspected Sabbat front and asking nicely that they give me back my girl. No big deal, yes?" Doris shrugs.
pulls up her skirt, revealing the rest of her bodysuit and holsters the weapon on her left thigh, then pulls an identical pistol from a holster on her right thigh and proceeds to check it “I suppose that depends on them. However, this IS the Sabbat we’re dealing with. Count on things getting....messy. I always do.”
"I absolutely hope things will get messy. I would hate to have inconvenienced all these people for a nice chat." Doris is cheerful. This may or may not be alarming to the Gordon Industries Security Ghoul up front.
“Well, if that’s how we’re going in....”
removes her earrings and places them in the nearest cup holder
"Or they are coming out. I have a few tricks up my sleeves that might bring our quarry our of their lair..." As the car rolls through the district, Doris' attention seems to turn inward, away from the vehicle and its occupants.
The Driver takes you through the streets turning on the police strobes to make way.
“Subtle”
Driver calls over the radio," Red Queen on the move. Target the Rose Nightclub. All teams close in. Oscar Mike."
"Do try not to alert the entire city we are coming. Thank you." Doris sounds as if her attention is in two places at once.
"Standard procedure, lights off two blocks out the teams hold perimeter."
As you guys close in the lights go off, and you are brought to the area of the nightclub. It is an old refurbished factory and there is a line of Goths waiting to get in. You can readily tell if they are Vampires or just pale mortals.
“Nice to see that being a Poseur isn’t just limited to the rose garden....”
“Call it. Are we even going to try to avoid causing a scene?”
"Oh...it is." And then Doris begins talking to someone not present. "Since I presume your companions can hear me, Elizabeth, I would like to inform them that this is their only chance to settle this amicably."
Then, her attention back on the present and Veronica, she gets out of the car. "We shall see how they respond to that."
The Siren takes up a position in clear view of the doors. She folds her arms and commences to wait, humming to herself.
is playing idly with a Mercworx Sniper model combat knife that she got from....who knows where?
“So who is this Elizabeth anyway?”
"Mixer of the best damn drinks in the city. Among her other qualities." Doris' attention seems...divided.
“I’m confused are we here to help or kill her?”
"She is the asset in question."
“Understood. What’s she look like so I’ll know who I’m extracting?”
Doris describes the twentysomething dark-haired girl with the sort of attention to detail that suggests she pays a lot more attention to Lizzy than Lizzy is aware of.
Veronica BlackLast sheaths her knife behind her back. “Got it. We’ll get her back. My style of hostage negotiation is to kill everyone that took the hostage. I assume that there are no objections?”
"Well. They might object to your plan, but I do not."
Veronica scoffs . “Since when do they get a vote, darling?”
"They may have a say in the matter some night...but not tonight." Doris uncrosses her arms and rests her hand on the pommel of her sword.
regards Doris’ sword with a twinge of longing “You know, I did some of my best work with a sword, but they’re just too hard to carry covertly.”
"Open carry state."
“Still, it draws attention, and that’s not usually something I can allow.”
"This is Texas. There are a dozen odder things than you and I that have been abroad under the sun today." Doris shrugs. 'They are taking far too long."
“Even harder to pair with an evening gown, despite what recent films will try to tell you.”
“What IS it with those silly mortals anyway? They think everyone should be allowed a grenade launcher, but as soon as one person carrying a decent blade shows up, they’re the crazy one...”
"Humans." Doris shrugs. "A good blade used to be considered part of fancy dress..."
“I miss those days....”
"I do as well. The dancing was better and men were more eloquent flirts."
“Hmph. Most of today’s men know nothing of eloquence. You’re lucky if they bother to let the roofie dissolve all the way before they try to get you to drink.”
"...I have never had the displeasure. All the men who have tried to drug me into terrible decisions in the last few decades were doing so for ritual purposes and ensured proper dosage and administration..."
“It’s not like it works on us, that’s where the fun comes from.”
A women steps out of the club she has security around her. She is in a red Leather Corset, and leather pants with steel toed goth boots. She is waiting for Doris to show up.
“Is that your “Red Queen”?”
"Plug your ears," Doris replies quietly.
leans back and places her hands behind her head to appear as through she’s relaxing, but also covers her ears
Instead of hailing the woman in the corset or doing anything aggressive, she begins singing. It is wordless, but unnerving. There is a sense of unease threaded through the notes.
Over half the crowd leaves.
Her goal accomplished, she nudges Veronica gently.
Bzzt bzzt. Doris removes her mobile telephone from her pocket. "New telephone, who is this?"
removes her hoodie and skirt, revealing her Kevlar reinforced, black leather bodysuit. She adjusts her armored shin and forearm plates and waits
"Of course it is. Yours?"
"I rather approve of your business, from what I can see of it from the street. I would have preferred being asked and cut in on your profits, but we can discuss business after you have restored to me the portion of my Elysium you have." Doris is pleasant-sounding and brisk.
waits and looks at Doris expectantly
"I could hear her ask to leave and be forced to stay. You are now holding her prisoner. Shall we call it even and start things over as businesswomen?"
"They will not be permitted to leave, even if I ask. Give me back my girl and we shall all depart in peace." The Siren's voice softens.
adjusts her fingerless gloves, this is clearly going downhill....
There is some subtle nodding as she talks, and she scuffs her foot on the sidewalk, then tips her head to one side. Twice.
looks in the direction indicated
"You mean the car you helped him destroy. I will come to the door. You have offered her nothing I have not already done, I hazard."
Doris is looking just past the woman in the corset.
The mobile is disconnected. "If you do not hear from me in ten minutes, tear the place apart." Then she is crossing the street.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?”
"Not my haven, not my rules." Doris calls over her shoulder. "Ten. Minutes."
“Right. Ten minutes it is.”
The armored Siren stops short of the woman in the red corset. She holds out both hands, then very slowly divests herself of her jacket so her weapons are visible. Then, she unbuckles her swordbelt and lays it and the spatha on the ground. This is followed by her shrugging out of her shoulder holster and laying it on the ground. Both are covered by the jacket.
The woman in the corset says, "We do have a coat room you could have used inside. We aren't heathens."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. We are on the clock, cousin. Let us be about our business."
She looks at the security team and they apt down Doris with a modicum of respect. Checking for any more physical weapons. The other Security person picks up the gear and hold it to bring inside.
Doris is apparently unarmed. Or exceptionally good at hiding weapons. Probably unarmed. Too bold and stupid to be armed.
They lead her in.. for talks or a slaughter....
Before she steps across the threshold, Doris looks at her right wrist, then squints at the sky.
Veronica Black whispers to herself “Bitch....you’d better know what you’re doing, because you owe me some answers....”
Veronica Black taps the driver on the shoulder. “Hey. Time’s almost up. Am I doing this by myself or can I expect some backup from one of the teams?”
"Do what by yourself, Ma'am?" he asks, slightly confused.
sighs “Go in and win friends and influence people. If that happens, it’s going to get very loud and messy.”
"We could cause the fire alarm to go off it that would help."
“I was thinking more along the lines of people with guns helping me storm the place. Or were all the lights and sirens just for show?”
"If we clear the building, there will be less mess, Ma'am. Easier to conserve ammunition."
“Fine, we’ll go with that, and try blades. They never need reloading, and work better anyway.”
The driver proceeds to mutter into his radio. Time continues to ooze by painfully slowly.
Veronica Black inhales just so she can exhale in boredom.
Quietly, from behind Veronica: "Not dead. Yet. But not quite able to leave either."
Veronica Black turns around.
Doris is not there. Odd.
Veronica Black checks her watch.
“Who isn’t dead yet? You? Them? Elizabeth? You’re a dreadful conversationalist sometimes.” she mutters....
Quietly, again. "Nobody. I am trying to talk us out of a room full of a highly specialized group of women without causing a diplomatic incident."
“Talk’s cheap. I suggest my way.”
"There are three of them I can see and only one of me. How fast can you move?"
“Very”
"We are in the back of the building."
“What are we up against?”
"A Koldun sorceress. Two others. Unknown."
“Well, call it. The driver tells me he can have a fire alarm pulled to clear the building.”
“Have you found out why they took your asset?”
"Pique."
pokes the driver’s shoulder “I don’t suppose there’s any....snacks....handy, is there? I may have to go do something dangerous and I just don’t like facing danger hungry\*
"Sorry Ma'am this vehicle doesn't have a mobile triage unit assigned to it."
“Hmph. What good are you then?” goes back to waiting
“Any progress?”
"Just so you know, she threatened to set you, our driver, and our transportation on fire. I pointed out that was a terrible idea."
“Do you want me to have that fire alarm pulled and come in hot? Nobody threatens Dopinder like that.”
"...who?"
“I don’t know the driver’s name, so I gave him one. You’re welcome.”
From the driver's seat. "...I resent and also am amused by this."
“Nobody asked you, and you don’t get a vote, darling.”
After what feels like entirely too long, a slender brunette, mortal, strides out of the building. If anyone bothered to provide a description of Lizzy to the team, it's her. She's... underdressed, but has a bag with other clothes in it, and a Faraday bag, from which she is pulling out her phone. She looks unharmed, but furious.
Far too many moments later, Doris emerges as well. She does not have her weapons or jacket. Apparently they are expendable.

She does, however, pull out her phone, sigh eloquently, and send a text before crossing the street.
steps out of the car, looking VERY annoyed and completely out of patience
“Here, people are staring. I’ll need these back once you get where you’re going, so I can get where I’m going without attracting undue attention.” throws Lizzie a black hoodie and a full skirt, it is a safe bet Veronica is talking about concealing the black leather bodysuit and pair of handguns and knives she’s carrying
Lizzy raises her bag. "I'm good, but thank you all the same. I'ma have my bad bitch moment, then get dressed. Promise."
The armored Siren finishes her text. Then she stalks across the street, moving to shove the phone into her pocket before it sparks. Doris shrugs, then chucks the phone into a nearby wall with all the force she can muster. She reaches into the car to grab the radio. "If this place is not vacant in two nights, raid it and everything we have on paper associated with it. Burn it all down."
“You couldn’t have had it earlier when these uncouth ruffians took you hostage?”
she dons the hoodie and skirt herself, neatly concealing her evening attire and weapons
“Fine. Do as you like. I’ve stopped caring.”
"I apologize for the inconvenience and am in your debt. I shall register it with Miss Woodhull directly." Coolly.
is starting to understand why her old associate Mr. Belger always wanted to stop for a milkshake every time he got into a car
"It's complicated," Lizzy says smoothly. She then moves to get dressed and makes a call to the police to report a stolen vehicle.
“No it isn’t. Someone tries to make you go somewhere you don’t want to, you knock their jaw across the street. Especially if it ends with you dressed like...well, THAT.”
“I could teach you, you know.”
Lizzy turns around and stares at Veronica hard. "...who are you?"
"Miss McCrory acquitted herself well, all things considered. Far better than her partner for this reconaissance mission." Doris sounds sour, then she drags out her manners. "Elizabeth, this is Veronica Black, daughter of the Rose. Miss Black, Elizabeth McCrory, of the house of Kings, in service to His Majesty Prince Gordon."
A curt nod to Veronica, when the introduction is made.
"If you wish to hone your combat skills, Elizabeth, I suggest you take Miss Black up on her offer. I can teach you other things. Additionally, I apologize for using you as a target for communicating with the proprietor of this establishment. I can only speak to those who are known to me and I did not have any direct contact information."
“The offer stands darling. I used to think I didn’t need any teaching, but a man named Jack Garrison proved me wrong and showed me the ways of pugilism when I was on the European front during that little squabble the mortals had back in the 1940’s.”
"I'll think about it. I didn't anticipate that I'd have to pick up anythin' further than the Texas standard barfight techniques or the standard-issue firearms proficiency for everyone in the damn state. Right now, though? I just wanna go home." Her voice cracks here, as if it is taking every ounce of willpower she has left to not fall apart.
Veronica’s tone softens “Yes, I imagine you would. Come, let’s leave this place. This night extracts a heavy price it seems,” nods towards the nightclub “...and they shall pay their share very soon I imagine.”
"Of course. Yes. Would you allow me to set a watch?" The implication that not all parties in the negotiation were honorable is subtle but clear.
"I appreciate you askin' me. If you think it's wise, do it." Her tone also softens. "I'ma need to talk to Gordon. Needin' an extraction aside, I still got somethin' useful out of it."
“Well, I suppose the night is not a total loss then.”
"I know. I am proud of you, girl." Nothing but honest emotion in her voice. "So, so proud. Furious as well, for you are as reckless as my son and twice as brash..." A shrug.
"He knows and will have a full report of everything that occurred outside your own experiences by dawn. I advise you write everything down when you get home lest details fade."
"Don't mess with Texas." Lizzy cracks a grin that Doris has never seen before. It's a bit fiercer, a little rougher around the edges. "But really... it is more complicated than it looks. Trust me. Emotional manipulation is a stone bitch, especially when you weren't on your game goin' in. I fuckin' told Marcus that we could have the feelsy talk after we got the job done, but he wanted it done before. Fucked my head but good."
"What else has he done? He cannot be any more firmly entrenched on my...how do you say it? Shit list? but if I am stopping by there next, I should know what else I need to discipline him over." Half partner, half Seneschal for a moment. Her odd Germano-Gaelic clipped lilt is more pronounced. She opens the SUV door for Lizzy. "He told me nothing, but I knew something had upset him before my mobile...blew up? Yes?"
"It can wait."
"I need to get ahead of the discipline or he will be killed for incompetence. Marcellus can be more gentle with others. He cannot be so with his own."
"Then tell him that when a lady says 'it can wait' in the face of a potentially dangerous operation, it can, in fact, wait. Instead of goin' in there clearheaded, I went in mad. And then everythin' else just pissed me off even more. Now. Can I go?" (Though I may need to pause again, apparently? @Toliver (Myrmidon) ?)
cracks her knuckles “I could tell him for you.”
"If it'll make you feel better, I will not stop you. But Marcus isn't a monster. Just a very... very clueless dude tryin' his best."
Doris resumes being fully present. She gestures for the radio. A conversation ensues, brief but containing such words as "Citadel", "overwatch," and both opening and closing with "Red Queen." Coupled with the chesspiece painted on her pauldron, this must be her callsign.
Then, she turns to Lizzy. "The gentleman here will see you safely to your door." It sounds like a threat and a promise.
folds her arms and looks out the window
vroom vroom also not a Prius
“Dopinder, I’m staying at [ridiculously swanky downtown hotel]. You can drop me off there after Miss McCrory is sorted, glances at Doris if there is nothing further, of course.”
"If you would care to join me in discussing tonight's events with the author of all our irritation..." Doris shrugs. "Perhaps he will listen to you about the threat level of our enemies."
“I don’t know what I could possibly add to such proceedings. I couldn’t see much from my vantage point of the back seat of this car.”
"We have both fought them. I in the Queen City in the nineteen seventies, you...for longer and in various locales. He does not listen to me."
“Oh, you mean the Sabbat in general and not just this specific pack. Very well.”
The sounds and smells of fried electronics permeates the air as a few security cameras burn out. The driver takes a radio call and then pulls out his ear piece and let's Doris' attention. "Got the Lt. on the horn. He needs to talk."
"Oh? Lovely. Tell him I shall speak with him directly." Doris proceeds to get a slightly vague expression as soon as she hears her statement relayed.
"I'ma call a Lyft. Though I need to re-download everythin'..." Lizzy frowns.
"Stay in the car. Drive." Distractedly. Two different orders.
"We have a car on the way, Veronica. Ramirez here is Miss McCrory's personal escort." Doris hops out of the vehicle.
retrieves her earrings from the cup holder before exiting the vehicle to stand with Doris
"Wait, what?" Lizzy looks surprised.
Ramirez will look at Lizzy and say, "Where to, Miss?"
"Uhhhh..." Lizzy gets in the car and mumbles an address in North Albion.
He nods and turns the SUV around safely.
Then leaves the premise.
The next vehicle that shows up is a bigger truck, more designed to transport troops. The back door opens and two men jump out and pull down the steps. "Ladies," one of them says. "Ready when you are. I am Sgt. Jones, and my team will be your escort. Bravo team is on route to the asset's home as we speak, following their movements."
Veronica wordlessly climbs in the back of the vehicle
"Well this is a bit of overkill..." Doris clambers into the back of the vehicle. She then supplies the address for Marcus' condo-slash-business.
Satsui no Hadou tangibly radiates from Veronica
As you both climb in you notice two 10 year olds dressed in once stylish gray tracksuits, matching sneakers and hats just watch you go. Their clothing ripped and covered in grime, oil, dirt and other fluid remnants. When the rear door is closed they are gone.
"...that was odd. Hopefully we caught something." Doris chews her lower lip.
Sgt. Jones hears a chirp on the radio and then reaches into a cubby to retrieve a headset and hands it to Doris. "Got an update from Rooke. He is getting ready to address the troops. I am sensing little to no sleep. He asked for you to listen in, Miss Ashview."
"Fine."
Jones hooks you in, and gives you the thumbs up. He calls in and just says, "Ready."
A few moments later Rooke speaks, "We have good news and bad news. So far we have been able to salvage about a third of the street cameras out there. We also were able to unplug some of the equipment in house as well, I am waiting on numbers now. We have a surplus of new cameras as well. The bad news is main systems are FUBAR. Add to it to get the City back to sort of working with cameras will take at least 72 hours. That is mandatory double shits for all Gordon Industries employees. To fully get things back to normal will at least take a month, and that isn't including full equipment replacement."
There is muttered swearing in Gaelic and German interchangeably and sometimes mid-sentence.
waits, still radiating the Surge of Murderous Intent. Being starved of information that is normally provided to someone in her line of work is beginning to wear thin
“Well?”
"Infrastructure is fried. Bitch. I should have told them to get out tonight..." Fuming.
“So what is next?”
“It is a safe bet that this is no accident. Blinding your opponent before going for the kill is as old as time. I would expect trouble in the very near future.”
"Exactly. If that club is not empty in two nights' time, we burn it to the ground. I need to know how they got in past our defenses." Brooding commences.
Jones hits the wall between the back and the front and says, "Let's roll." He looks back at Doris and says, "Your place, correct Miss Ashview."
"No. Executive Outcomes. I have an idiot to yell at. Miss Black is welcome to join me in emphasizing the finer points of Kindred society, otherwise please see her safely to her destination. Then stop by Miss Woodhull's to inform her that I owe Miss Black a major debt in gratitude for her service this evening."
“Do you have children to correct? What happened?”
"Very well. I will contact the security detail there so they don't have a fit, when we get there."
"Somehow, in addition to allowing one of His Majesty's ghouls to be kidnapped, Mister Antoninus has caused the security of our infrastructure to be compromised. We have lost quite a bit of surveillance capability."
“That sounds like a breach of competence, not etiquette. I wonder what this Mr. Antoninus has to say.”
"I intend to find out."
“I know all too well from personal experience that an overly harsh master has a way of breeding contempt in a neonate.”
Jones gives the address and calls out to the team there. "ETA 10 minutes, and stay out of the ladies' way, when they disembark."
"He tends to fight the bit, whoever holds the reins."
“I see. Competent and of high standing in the mortal world before his embrace, but unaware that it means little among our kind?”
"All too aware he is clever and has skated so far on that cleverness." Doris snorts.
“Cleverness is admirable, if it is tempered with wisdom.”
"I will allow you to decide whether that is the case in this instance." The city rolls by, the entertainment district giving way to a more residential area dotted with small businesses in houses.
“Oh, I would bet everything that it is not. My guess is that in addition to your Elizabeth, he also lost something else of immense importance. Something that lead to the crippling of your surveillance apparatus.”

"His damn mind..." Doris is simmering. "I do not have time for this, I have a war to manage and three potential fronts from which to be attacked. None of them are stable."
About an hour later, 1.30am, a large black personnel carrier-sized vehicle pulls up outside. The rear passenger side door is opened for the occupants of the back. Prepared for the coming Gaelic-fueled storm, the babysitters make way for the ginger they know and the ginger they do not know.
steps out of the vehicle, still noticeably irritated, but slightly less than before.
"I apologize for any loss of temper on my part," Doris comments as she slides out of the car. Then she leads Veronica to the door, which is pounded on with the side of her fist, forearm parallel to the door, in a rapid tattoo.
The door is opened, revealing Marcus, deeply distraught, mostly empty bottle of scotch in his hand. Relief spreads across his face as he sees Doris "You're alright.. Did you get Lizzy? Is she okay?" Still panicked. Thereare tendrils of smoke coming from the lab upstairs.
"Are you drunk?" Cool. There is nothing on the Siren's face to indicate she is moved by the distressed Ventrue. Or the smell of fried electronics wafting down from upstairs for that matter.
He is perfectly lucid. "Not in the least. I am not convinced I am capable of it"
He pauses. "Did you get Lizzy back?"
the petite, beautiful red headed woman wearing the black hoodie and long black skirt snickers and speaks up in a pleasant English accent
“You are capable of getting drunk, darling. You just need to feed from someone who is drunk themselves.”
“And Miss McCrory is safe.”
He makes a face of adamant distaste. "I have tried that - it makes the blood taste foul." Relief floods him. "Thank you."
"Move. Inside." Doris is not here to be charming or engage in banter.
“So make it an acquired taste, much like you no doubt did before your Embrace.”
"Or maintain my sobriety while enjoying my whisky." A grin "Much better that way." He gestures towards the open door. "Make yourselves at home."
gives Doris a glance that seems to say “I see what you mean”
There is the subtlest of eyerolls. The door is shut behind them...and locked. "The city's security cameras are fried in several districts and the problem is barely under control. What did you do to let them in?"
Doris is really not here to play. She folds her arms and acts her jaw. "Why did your emotionally compromise your stakeout partner before engaging?"
He faces her. "What did I do?" He emphasizes the word I. "Nothing. I received your text, and my phone started smoking, my computer was fried." He gestures towards the lab upstairs. His eyes calm momentarily. "Half the city's security ... what could..." He looks up. "You know well what I am capable of in this respect - that would be beyond my skills."
"What could POSSIBLY do that?"
“Technology Mages?”
"Magic." Doris affirms.
There is a raised eyebrow towards Doris. "I'm going to have to learn how to do that." Still upset, but sounding awed more than anything else "I can't say I like the results, but that's impressive."
"I've been working on rebuilding what I can here since then."
"Stop. You have done quite enough tonight. Let people who know what they are up against handle it." Flat.
"They had to slip past the defences Crowley and his crew have on our systems. So you did something wrong. Why did you have a fight with Lizzy in the middle of a mission? You cannot lie to me about the fact you were upset about something. It upset her as well." The interrogation continues
Veronica walks over and begins helping herself to a drink “you know darling, when a woman says she’ll talk about something later, she means it. It is a wise man who lets it go until later.”
“You got any olives?”
"With all respect, Seneschal, I know my business on the technological aspect better than anyone in this city save for possibly Mr. Crowley. I understand you're angry with me - but whatever magic it was that infected this system came through your text message. If Mr. Crowley did not adequately
protect this city's infrastructure from magic threats, that is his responsibiljty, not mine."
He looks at the stranger in the room "Yes, they are in the fridge - and a spear for them in the second drawer by the sink."
"As for Lizzy... she was upset and I didn't want that upset to compromise the mission or her safety. On that matter, I erred, and accept responsibilty." Here, he lowers his head slightly. "I am glad she is alright... I did everything I could to save her."
"I responded to your texts and my phone died. Did you meddle with their technology?" Perspective is everything. "You have potentially allowed a Sabbat pack to gain information about the city via allowing one of His Majesty's ghouls to fall into their hands."
“The Technology Mages ARE protective of things they deem theirs or under their protection....”
"I received your text and my phone died." A pause. "I saw the team that was assembled to bring Elizabeth home - why is the Sabbat pack still alive to HAVE information?"
"Because attempting to kill them would have been a more massive Masquerade breach than the one you created by panicking." Again flat. "They were in a BDSM club full of mortals. Additionally, there are still the Accords."
A pause. "Not that you are owed anything but censure, boy." Emphasis on age difference.
"Did you hack them? Answer the question." A hint of command in her tone.
smiles wryly “I think the questions are only going to be going in one direction tonight...”
He nods towards the newcomer. "Fair. Though you are pouring yourself a drink and I have no idea who you are, or why you are here." Bemused, more than annoyed. He turns towards the Siren "I hacked the restaurant and the restaurant's phone. I was not caught. I could not hack any of the newcomers' equipment - their car had some kind of EM shielding."
"You were not caught by mundane means." The exasperation is now fully evident in her voice. "You are not not playing games with mortals any more, Mister Antoninus."
They're still standing in his entry-way, except for the strange redhead who appears to be pouring a martini in the kitchen. He sighs, quietly, and gestures towards the living space. "Shall we sit down?" As he speaks, he strides up towards his office and returns with the one thing that is - or ought to be - immune to technimagic: An old-fashioned notebook and pen. He sits, placing the paper on his table, and waits for the others to join.
Doris stalks down the hall, her bootheels clicking. There is the subtle fabric creak of her armor as she moves. Nothing in her body language suggests she is one whit less angry and exasperated.
"No. Thank you." Doris prefers to stand. "Did you see a pair of children at any time?"
"See them? They wrecked Lizzy's car."
"You wrecked Elizabeth's car." Doris purses her lips.
"Fair. Though in my defense, I do not expect the engine block to wind up superimposed on the gearbox if I decide to run a pair of ten year olds over with a car." He remarks wryly, before musing "Remind me to have Baxter reinforce the armour on mine." To Doris "I was planning on buying her a new car anyways. I suppose now I owe her one
"You what?" Horrified. "It was all over the news with your description."
Veronica saunters back silently. “All you need to know for now, darling, is that I came here at the Seneschal’s request. I am the “extraction team” that was mercifully not needed to retrieve Ms. McCrory.”
“I have prowled the night for over five centuries, and have slain countless thousands and feasted upon many more. As discretion is something of a speciality of mine, I am here to try to make you understand the need for both discretion and etiquette among the circles you now travel, as you have thus far failed to heed wise counsel.”
"They had kidnapped Lizzy. The two got out of the limo and I gave chase. They tried to stop me. I had hoped to either incapacitate or kill them. Sadly, that backfired.
"You ran down children on a busy road."
He glances between the two women quickly - he has to answer both.
expression is a bizarre steel cage match between horror and “holy shit, I am going to put you through that wall
He looks towards Doris first - his Domitor and his boss takes precedence. "They were no more children than us. They tried - successfully, as it were, to prevent me from trying to protect someone that was in my care, and whose life has infinitely more value to me than theirs." His explanation sounds like he is reading the news - not that he is being lippy.
To the newcomer, he looks almost humble as he turns. "What do you wish to teach me?"
“Well, for one, how to behave in front of the Kine! It’s called THE MASQUERADE for a VERY IMPORTANT reason!”
“I myself have slain Kindred that had the appearance of children, but NEVER IN THE MIDDLE OF A BUSY STREET WITH TELEVISION CAMERAS ROLLING!”
He looks at her, and gives a very clear pause - almost seeming to breathe in, as though he is about to speak, and is jolted by her words.
“Discretion dear, at ALL times. Our greatest asset is that we do not exist as far as the mortals know. Discretion. Both in deed and in words. Especially now.”
“And my name, is Veronica. Veronica Black. Clan Toreador” trembling with barely contained fury
Doris seems to be allowing the other redhead to handle the situation. Her expression is more horror and disappointment than anything else, blended with clear revulsion at his recitation of events. She hides her face in both hands in an attempt to rein in her emotions.
He nods at the new woman. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Black - and at the Seneschal's invitation, welcome to my home." He is sincere, and formal.
she nods curtly, the courtesy seems to have quelled the unending sea of rage that Veronica currently calls “being awake” somewhat
“Good, very good. I thank you for your hospitality Mr. Antoninus. You see? Manners cost nothing but can get you everything in Kindred society. The same is true of discretion.”
He looks at her. "I had to get her back. Had to try, at any rate. I did the only thing I could think of at the time."
“I understand your position, and your situation. However, Elizabeth’s kidnappers were just that: kidnappers. One does not kidnap an asset that one would then destroy instantly. She was to be leverage most likely, and a pile of dust holds little leverage. You must learn to think clearly in such situations. I am told clan Ventrue expects great things from you, and that you are capable of proving their faith is not misplaced. However, the Ventrue do not have a bottomless reservoir of patience, and tonight’s blunder could have very well seen you staked and left to face the sunrise had it gone even more poorly.”
“While I am loathe to gamble with the life of one of our own, rash actions only serve the enemy.”
“You would have never been embraced if you did not hold great promise. It would be such a pity to lose you to the abyss.”
He nods, understanding somewhat. "So how do I fix this? I certainly did not mean... Is she alright? Elisabeth. Is she alright?" Slightly frantic now.
The Siren twitches, a full body shiver. Then, jerkily, she stalks off down the hall, further into the condo. There is the sound of quiet conversation punctuated with one of those horrible, high-pitched keening sounds. Then some rustling. When she reappears, Doris has a rather nice overnight bag with her. "She is alive. She is not all right."
“Miss McCrory was putting on a brave face, but the blind could see she was shaken by her ordeal.”
“Mr. Antoninus, do you have any athletic tape?”
"I should go and see her, when we are finished..." He looks at Veronica oddly "Not likely, though I have some electrical tape upstairs, I think. Would... you object to stepping out a moment?"
“Pity. Yes, I think all three of us stepping out is in the best interests of all concerned.”
"You will leave her alone." Doris' voice has a slight tremor in it. "You are probably the last person she wants to see right now. If she wishes to speak with you, she will contact you."
He glances at Veronica first "Yes, perhaps - however I would appreciate a quiet word with the Seneschal first."
He sounds suddenly deeply suspicious.
Veronica rolls up the sleeve of her black hoodie, revealing a black leather/Kevlar bodysuit fitted with armored forearm plates and removes the fingerless leather gloves with reinforced knuckles and bracer while heading towards the door, glances at Doris “Shall I wait?”
"I shall send him out directly." Still a tremor.
nods politely to Doris “Of course, as you wish.” exits the building
Doris is shaking slightly. The overnight bag is hoisted over her shoulder. Ready to go. Restless.
He looks back to ensure there is no one to see, and walks towards her. (pause - meeting in a few and I don't want to interrupt)
There is the slightest half step backwards.
He looks at her - now confused - and takes a step back as well. "Darling... what is it?"
"You have the audacity to ask?" Doris backs up further, towards the door. "After what you admitted you did? That it did not matter if they were mortal or not to you?"
"They appeared out of a moving vehicle, and caused at least one car to be wrecked before I ever saw them. They were not mortal - and I never believed they were."
"You could have hurt or killed innocent bystanders."
"They could have hurt or killed Lizzy." He uses her name as he calls her, speaking softly. "I love her, you know. As I do you. You know the lengths I would go to protect you - should I do less for her? She's far easier to harm."
"You could have killed her with your recklessness." Another step back. "I...cannot be here right now."
She turns on her heel and almost runs to the door. The length of her stride is at the limit of merely walking, but she is still in possession of herself enough to not want to seem to be running away.
Her words hit him visibly and he staggers, though remaining physically upright. He reaches for her arm as she brushes past him.. "Doris..." Quietly
She pushes past him, intent on leaving. Thankfully, the door is unlocked and she can follow Veronica outside in short order. Doris blows past Veronica at speed, moving with the slightly jerky motions of a woman trying to keep her shit together.
He follows after her, and looks towards @Veronica Black "If you wish, I believe I am finished with the Seneschal - or she with me."
"Do not touch me again..." Doris has turned to keep Marcus in her line of sight. The moment Veronica and Marcus seem to be done fighting, she is off down the street.
nods once and proceeds to uncork a MONSTROUS left hook aimed squarely at Marcus’ cheekbone. It is the kind of perfectly executed, ARTISTIC haymaker that any heavyweight fighter would sell their soul to be able to deliver, carrying far more power than Veronica’s slight frame and petite build would suggest
He ducks immediately, and takes a step back, eyes flashing. "This is MY home, Ms. Black, and I extended hospitality to you. We had spoken of the importance of manners earlier."
He does not try to take a swing back.
Veronica looks pleased “Excellent! Keep your head on a swivel like that and you may be able to salvage the situation. Those are the wits you need to hone before you dive in to a situation.”
“We did speak of manners, darling, but you must admit that you had that coming after attempting to run down what appear to be children in front of mortals.”
He looks at her now, still suspicious, but gestures for her to sit down, where her drink is still unfinished.
she begins to put her gloves and bracers back on “Speaking of your pair of would be speed bumps, they wouldn’t happen to have been wearing matching grey tracksuits, would they?”
"Ms. Black, circumstances have caused me more pain than your fists are capable of." He felt the wind whistle past his head as she swung "And I do not intend to denigrate your fists' capacity to cause pain." He offers a wry grin. He thinks a moment. "Yes, in fact they were."
“Just hold hope that I never actually TRY to hurt you. Had I wanted to actually cause you harm, I’d have used these instead.” reveals the pair of Mercworx Sniper combat knives crossed at the small of her back. She takes a seat “But enough posturing. Threats avail us nothing. I happened to catch sight of a pair of children dressed in gray tracksuits watching Ms. Ashview and myself as we boarded the transport to come here. They were filthy, covered in fluids and grease. Your handiwork I assume?”
"I try not to make threats directly. It messes up the decision-making calculus, and usually backfires." He sits across the table
"Yes - at least, I presume so. A shame they were still standing." He gestures with one hand "Why do you ask - or simply for clarification?"
“I ask because they seemed odd at the time, and now I know why the looked that way. Apart from being made of stern stuff and being generally unsettling, did you learn anything else?
"Their car is a technological black-hole. The Seneschal asked if I tried to hack them - when they arrived there was nothing TO hack. They are always together in the few times I've seen them - and they are IDENTICAL - so are they two, or are they one? Also, it seems that a car - or at least a Prius - is a poor anti-personnel weapon against them. Lastly." he levels his gaze "I need to learn technomagic sooner rather than later."
“One wonders if they’re the head of the serpent or just agents of it....” Shrugs and takes on a flippant tone “Maybe they’re robots. That would explain their resistance to being ran over.”
"You are confident it is 'they' then?" He looks at her. "They are more lifelike than robotic technology I am aware of - and I try to keep up-to-date." He gestures towards the bookshelf "There are more things in Heaven and Earth...Would any conventional powers of the Blood have the same effect?"
“Those two are definitely involved somehow. They kidnapped Elizabeth and were present at the nightclub where she was being held.”
"Oh yes. They prevented me from chasing her. I was asking whether you are confident that it is two beings instead of only one."
“Blood? Yes. There’s all manner of ways for our kind to stop a moving automobile. We are also not the only things that are more than the humans.”
“We both saw two separate bodies, yes? I did not get the chance to observe them, so if they acted with an unnatural synchronization, there are quite a few ways that could be achieved.”
"I did not see them specifically act with synchronization. Perhaps it is best to assume that they are two until proven otherwise."
“That would be the sensible course.”
"Now I need to find someone to teach me technomancy. I can't combat what I am unaware of..." He muses, almost to himself as he takes a sip from the Martini
“You’re on you own there darling, I don’t know of anyone that could teach you to do as the Techno Mages do.
"We DO know where to find a technomage..." Again - musing
“Just where might that be? I’ve only arrived in town a short while ago, so the finer details of this city are unknown to me.”
"We believe that one of them kidnapped Elizabeth. Would returning the favour be viable?"
“That’s not for me to decide, but the Seneschal did give the occupants of the nightclub that showed such hospitality to Miss McCrory only a few nights to clear out before she has the place razed to the ground. Should they decide to test that ultimatum, you may just get your chance to have a talk with this Techno Mage.”
"If that could be arranged, I would be exceedingly grateful."
“I’m only a freelancer. I can’t arrange that for you, darling. You are going to have to endure Miss Ashview’s ire it seems.”
He shakes his head ruefully "That was on the agenda regardless."
“You’re not getting out of that. However, I do suppose I have the Seneschal’s ear from time to time. Although she can be dreadful when it comes to sharing information relating to an operation, even with those who are part of said operation, she seems open to my counsel. Why, I cannot say. Perhaps it is my age or the strength of my blood...”
“Nonetheless, it is up to you to regain lost ground. I can see that your desire to fix this is genuine. By my reckoning that should at least earn you the chance to do so. I am told you are quite clever. Now is the time to put that cleverness to use. Just be aware that cleverness that is not tempered with wisdom can quickly become a liability.”
He actually laughs - in a tone that says "if only you knew" at the comment regarding the Seneschal. "Are you the only other Neonate in this city, Ms. Black?"
“Darling, I am no neonate. Did you not hear me when I told you that I am over 500 years old?”
"I apologize. I must have been distracted - this evening has been less than pleasant."
“Yes, I imagine it has. You are fortunate though. Not all Kindred are as forgiving as I am.” wicked smile
“It is difficult, transitioning from what you were to what you are now. Doubly so if you were someone of higher standing in the mortal realm. Working your way up only to effectively start at the bottom again. Still, it worth the effort. The stakes are higher now than they ever were before, but so to are the rewards one can reap.”
He nods. "I was - and frankly, still am, exceptionally good at what I do. Though I am not used to having to account for magic in how I work."
“New rules keep the game from getting stale.”
"It certainly does. Thus why I need to find a technomancer."
“Just what is it that you do, Mr. Antoninus?”
"Intelligece work, mostly, use of electronics to gather information and cause chaos. I can put incendiary ammunition between a target's eyes from a half-mile. I am also Ventrue, and bear our gifts.
“So, you are one of those....gears turn in Veronica’s Renaissance period brain “hackers” then?
"Among other things, yes."
she sighs then chuckles “It seems to me that “hackers” usually find more trouble than anything else when they go snooping around in computer systems. Still, I can see why the Ventrue would desire your talents.” Wistfully “How times have changed.....”
“Shall I tell you why I was Embraced?”
He looks at her, and nods, before rising a moment. "Do you need a refill?"
“If you do not mind, that would be lovely.”
He rises, and walks to the kitchen. "Another martini for you? And do you prefer that it be made for our kind, or traditional?"
“I’m one of the lucky ones, I can tolerate mortal food and drink. Traditional please.”
He nods, and takes a fresh glass from the freezer. Four parts to one ratio and three olives skewered through a crystal spear in the glass for her. Four parts to one in his Manhattan as well, and he takes a lone cherry out of a bowl in the fridge. He holds it up for a minute in silence - is it sadness? - and slowly crushes it against the glass before returning to the living room, and giving her the cocktail.
Veronica Black takes the drink “Ah, you may just qualify as an artiste when it comes to mixing drinks. Thank you darling.” takes a sip and seems most pleased.
"You're welcome. I take a great deal of pride in my work, Ms. Black." He sits.
“Anyway, I promised you a story. I was taken from my home at the age of 14 by a local lord who turned out to be Kindred. He was a vulgar, decadent poseur of clan Toreador. He would not have known art if you beat him into torpor with it. The old fool’s ego demanded a chronicler to record his every moment, and I just so happened to be the prettiest girl who was literate. Not so common a skill back then, you know. For a decade, I listened to him prattle on. Boorish accounts that I knew were delusions of grandeur. To hear him tell it, it was his spear that pierced Christ during the crucifixion. After a decade had passed, he finally saw fit to take away the one thing I had left, and embraced me in the spring of 1532. In time, I had grown weary of the caress of the whip and eventually won my freedom. I tell you this to give perspective. There is always a worse master you could be serving.”
He listens intently as she speaks, little reaction save a snort of derision at her description of her sire.
“My sire was despised by his brethren. After his destruction, no tears were shed. Yet I still found myself laboring for a century to escape his oily shadow.”
“You were chosen for a reason, you will flourish by being useful. In time you will gain in standing. Until then, do not fight the reins with such vigor. You’re playing the long game now, Mr. Antoninus. The VERY long game. Kindred can hold on to a grudge or slight, real or perceived, for a considerable amount of time.” she finishes her drink and stands “Never forget, manners and discretion. I apologize if I’ve been overly long winded. The passage of time can do that to a person.”
He nods towards her. "I will remember that. Though there is one small thing of which you may not be aware - I have served no master - ever. I say that not to boast, but as a literal statement. My sire was a coward who was afraid of me, and sent me away for training to an elder who was murdered shortly after my arrival in her care. I made my way from there. I do not know HOW to serve."
“That explains much. It is difficult to integrate into Kindred society without a guiding influence. The dangers are, as I imagine you know, many. It is simple, really. You may wish to consider your clan your master for now. Manners and discretion, always. Also, when an elder Kindred or one of high station asks you to do something, they are not asking, they are commanding. They are simply being polite and giving you a chance to save face. Acquiescing to a request is better than obeying a command, understand?”
He nods, contemplatively. "I understand, yes."
“Good. If you have need of further advice, you may call on me if you like. For now though, I think it is time I was on my way.”
"I appreciate that - and am like to take you up on it. If you require my services, please..." he gestures towards the smoking ruins of his former lab, and grins "Give me a couple of weeks to rebuild this mess, and I shall be at your service."
“Of course, I’ll keep that in mind. Goodbye for now, thank you for the refreshments.” exits through the door and is gone