A Most Fashionable Party

Storyteller
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Posts: 179

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 14, 2017 19:53:19 GMT -8

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Post by Storyteller on Dec 14, 2017 19:53:19 GMT -8

The night had arrived - the Prince's Salon.

The small stage in Elysium had been raised with a heavy piece that covered the stage and raised it up to three feet above the floor. A heavy wooden chair sat quietly alone on the stage. It was high-backed, throne-like. The Prince was not present, but his servants certainly were. Ghouls were on hand to take coats, tend bar, and see to the needs of the guests.

The room had been cleaned, and thoroughly. Tasteful holiday decorations had been hung, and the bar appeared stocked. A small white lean-to indicated that this was to be an open bar.

Guests were greeted at the door of the hotel and ushered to a private elevator concealed in an alcove of the lobby. It was exceedingly unlikely that anyone would slip through the phalanx of ghouls sent to track down the party goers, but anything was possible.

There was time to mingle before the Prince appeared and addressed his business for the night. Let the games begin.

Good writers define reality. Bad ones merely state it.
-Edward Ablee

If a story is in you, it has to come out.
-William Faulkner

Good writing is supposed to evoke a sensation in the reader - not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.
-E.L. Doctorow

Grandpa George
Member

Undead is just death with benefits.

Posts: 15

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 15, 2017 6:07:50 GMT -8

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Post by Grandpa George on Dec 15, 2017 6:07:50 GMT -8

This was not a night for mistakes, everything had been checked and rechecked. George was still going over his mental checklist as he rode in the elevator, freshly pressed tux, shoes polished to a mirror shine, stomach was full, hair and teeth brushed, all check. One thing about being dead, you don't have to worry about sweating in stressful situations. As he steeped out into the large decorated room he wasn't surprised that he appeared to be the first person to arrive that wasn't part of the staff. That's fine, better early than late. He gripped the small black package a little tighter under his right arm and set out to mingle.

5'7 205, almost always smiling and happy to chat [Charisma: 4 (Eloquent)]
"No, there's nothing in my shop you need, but lots of stuff that would be neat to have

."

Eamon
Member

Seize the night

Posts: 41

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 15, 2017 8:09:04 GMT -8 Grandpa George likes this

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Post by Eamon on Dec 15, 2017 8:09:04 GMT -8

Eamon entered the scene and posed momentarily. He walked in with a winning smile and easy confidence. But soon the visage of warmth faded away. Eamon was pulled back into cage of monsters. Beautiful creatures with monstrous appetites. Eamon walked to an open table and pulled a chair. His skin became pale and icy. He unbuttoned his blue Armani suit and seated himself. The Christmas theme was lost on Eamon. There was no good cheer and peace here. It was all a .......Masquerade.....

"Tis the season"

Eamon grinned wickedly and waited for the festivities to begin.

Manipulation 4
Appearance 4

The first tradition: The Masquerade .
The second tradition: The Domain .
The third tradition: The Progeny .
The fourth tradition: The Accounting .
The fifth tradition: The Hospitality .
The sixth tradition: The Destruction .

Anya
Member

Posts: 13

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 18, 2017 6:05:43 GMT -8 Grandpa George likes this

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Post by Anya on Dec 18, 2017 6:05:43 GMT -8

Anya showed up, fairly on time, the Rose dressed for a holiday event. Having divested herself of the winter coat at the coat check before entering Elysium, she was stunning in a long evening dress in varying shades of rose. It was an off the shoulder dress, that wrapped about her body, belted at the waist then flowed out to a full flowing skirt. A light rose pink, with a slightly darker shade of pink sheer overlay, that worked its way to a darker rose at the hem. Small dark rose 'roses' were attached to the material, angling from the shoulder and weaving about the dress til they covered the hem as well. Again her hair was coiffed, with delicate tendrils pulled about her face. Pink Diamonds on her ears and in the necklace she wore.

She smiled at eh few people she recognized as she entered, moving about the room in a slow pace. The Rose was in her element, a social setting, and was determined to shine this evening.

Appearance: 4
Ht: 5'7"

"Beauty is power, a smile is its sword."
John Ray

Eamon
Member

Seize the night

Posts: 41

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 18, 2017 21:08:25 GMT -8 Grandpa George likes this

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Post by Eamon on Dec 18, 2017 21:08:25 GMT -8

Eamon was entranced the moment Anya arrived. Her beauty, style, and grace was unmatched. "If only she were human" Eamon thought to himself. Eamon wanted to walk up and greet her, but there would be plenty of time for that.

He raised his right hand and waved slowly at Anya, who was scanning the room and gracing everyone with her smile.

Manipulation 4
Appearance 4

The first tradition: The Masquerade .
The second tradition: The Domain .
The third tradition: The Progeny .
The fourth tradition: The Accounting .
The fifth tradition: The Hospitality .
The sixth tradition: The Destruction .

Storyteller
Administrator

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Posts: 179

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 21, 2017 20:49:27 GMT -8 Grandpa George likes this

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Post by Storyteller on Dec 21, 2017 20:49:27 GMT -8

It wasn't long before others began to arrive. Those in attendance may not know each new arrival, but they were there to meet, at least.

Tiberius and the Regent arrived together. Tiberius appeared anxious, while Maruf seemed distant. He stood in the doorway while Tiberius retrieved refreshment for both of them.

"Sir... sir. A drink." The Regent grunted and continued looking around the room, slightly aimlessly. Tiberius ushered him to a quiet table, where they both sat, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Not a minute later, a ghoul wheeled a luggage cart with a blanket over it into the room. Thinking he may have made a mistake, the bartender began to object. Rather than address the objections directly, he pulled the blanket off to reveal Karl Shrekt. The Gangrel looked like a wolf in a tux, albeit an upright, very large wolf. Stepping awkwardly off the cart, he straightened his tux and stalked off toward another quiet corner of the room.

He nearly sat on one of the Nosferatu, who was already occupying the seat he chose. The other Nosferatu appeared nearby and they both ducked away to the next table. It was unclear if they consciously chose the part of the room with the deepest shadows, but the room wasn't terribly bright to begin with.

Several people were starting to do head counts to see if anyone was going to be late, when the Scourge entered the room. Her pant suit was neon green, but it was clear she had made an effort. Mama Faith looked around the room, a comically large grin on her face.

"Mah niggas. I may not have to kick yo asses tonight!" She seemed genuinely pleased at the turnout. She turned to the bar, where she took an awkward straddling seat. "Whatchu got tonight, baby? Don't skimp on the good stuff, we partyin' tonight!"

Good writers define reality. Bad ones merely state it.
-Edward Ablee

If a story is in you, it has to come out.
-William Faulkner

Good writing is supposed to evoke a sensation in the reader - not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.
-E.L. Doctorow

Eamon
Member

Seize the night

Posts: 41

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 22, 2017 19:38:30 GMT -8

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Post by Eamon on Dec 22, 2017 19:38:30 GMT -8

Eamon watched the Kindred enter one by one. There wasn't anyone in particular he wanted to speak with. But now would be the perfect time to learn about the Kindred and for Kindred to learn about him. When Karl Schrekt was revealed, Eamon thoughts went to Gar. A giant wolf man stalking the streets of Vegas, but Gar is banished for something his control. Eamon felt little pity for Gar, but he wondered about Schrekt. He was allowed to stay, maybe the same can be done for Gar.

Eamon left his table and walks over to Karl Schrekt. The closer he gets, the slower he walks. Eamon stops a few feet from Schrekt and speaks.

"Hello. I am Eamon McGregor of Clan Ventrue. I assume you are Karl Schrekt"

Manipulation 4
Appearance 4

The first tradition: The Masquerade .
The second tradition: The Domain .
The third tradition: The Progeny .
The fourth tradition: The Accounting .
The fifth tradition: The Hospitality .
The sixth tradition: The Destruction .

Grandpa George
Member

Undead is just death with benefits.

Posts: 15

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 25, 2017 2:12:13 GMT -8

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Post by Grandpa George on Dec 25, 2017 2:12:13 GMT -8

The tension in the room was palpable, but so was the level of raw power in one room. It was a humbling reminder that no matter how high up on the food chain you think you are, there is always someone above you. George got up from his table and made his way to the bar, making sure to give a respectful nod to the Regent's table. The gesture went seemingly unnoticed by the Regent himself but he thought he had caught Tiberius' glance.

Taking a seat next to Mama Faith he motioned the bartender for a glass. He wasn't thirsty but it seemed like a good idea this evening to have a fortified constitution.

Lifting his glass to chest level he looked towards the lady in green.

“A toast, Madam Scourge. Here's to hoping that any of your battles this season are for recreation and not work related, happy holidays.”

5'7 205, almost always smiling and happy to chat [Charisma: 4 (Eloquent)]
"No, there's nothing in my shop you need, but lots of stuff that would be neat to have

."

Anya
Member

Posts: 13

A Most Fashionable Party Dec 28, 2017 18:31:09 GMT -8 Grandpa George likes this

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Post by Anya on Dec 28, 2017 18:31:09 GMT -8

Having made a few pleasant nods and greetings, Anya found a place to sit, a spot where most the room was visible. There was a somewhat bored look on her face as she let her gaze wander, taking ion who was where, and who was talking to who. All was being noted, after all one never knew when some thing as minor as that, would come in use.

Appearance: 4
Ht: 5'7"

"Beauty is power, a smile is its sword."
John Ray

Storyteller
Administrator

Get in game!

Posts: 179

A Most Fashionable Party Jan 17, 2018 22:42:15 GMT -8 Grandpa George likes this

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Post by Storyteller on Jan 17, 2018 22:42:15 GMT -8

As he approached the table, Eamon could tell that Karl's hands - or more accurately, his claws - were buried in the table. He stood as Eamon drew closer, turning first his head, then his body squarely to meet the incoming Ventrue. It was hard to read the wolf-man's body language, considering that he was halfway between species, but he seemed to be ready to speak with Eamon.

"I am not acquainted with you, Eamon McGregor of Clan Ventrue. About what topic do you wish to converse?"

Meanwhile, across this room, George's toast had drawn some awkward attention from the intended recipient. As he started his toast, Mama Faith turned and stalked toward him, stopping as he completed the offering. Then, apparently mistaking the toast for an actual offering, she snatched the glass out of his hand, managing not to spill a drop. Then downing the glass with a quick swig, she plopped the glass back on the bar and wiped her mouth with her neon-covered arm.

"Never worked a day in my life, ol' man. Never will. Come to think, I ain't never seen you before. Where yo ass come from?"

She was uncomfortably close now, sniffing George and looking generally menacing. It was an effective look from the unstable Scourge.

--------------------

The next to arrive was a mystery to most in the city. An older looking man, with slicked back nearly white hair, he was short, and came with an entourage, presumably of ghouls. They spread out, one heading to the bar, one heading for the Regent, who seemed to know what was going on, and one hovering nearby to be ready for whatever orders his domitor had. For the moment, he seemed content to take in the room.

Slipping in behind this explosion of personnel was a young black man with an earpiece in. He took a step to the right of the door, and behind him came a very odd man, seemingly bouncing and nodding to no one in particular, while appearing to have a conversation with the first man. The second seemed mystified by the first's step to the side, losing sight of him for several seconds before a touch on the elbow brought his attention joltingly back to his conversation partner.

Finally, a middle aged man in a tuxedo stepped through the door. His ego was palpable, and seemed to take up most of the room upon his arrival. A self-confident smirk covered his features, and he nodded to Tiberius, who rolled his eyes and continued to whisper into the Regent's ear.

Good writers define reality. Bad ones merely state it.
-Edward Ablee

If a story is in you, it has to come out.
-William Faulkner

Good writing is supposed to evoke a sensation in the reader - not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.
-E.L. Doctorow