Kindred Western Conference Summit 2021

[Marlowe Rodrick]

Marlowe drank all the blood he was given, but then got a hold of himself, as he was healing.  He gritted his fangs and teeth and mumbled.  "Черт возьми, это больно!"

He doubled over, and remained prone for a few minutes.  Then he jerked, sitting up.

"Hyoly damn.  I expeckted zat you vould take me to zhe sewerrr!"  His accent was very hard to pinpoint, but sounded a bit like German mixed with Hungarian. "Zhank Got you did not!"

He remembered.  "Vait a minute.  You zhink I jumped in front of zhe carrr?  No, NO!  It blinded me!  I am hypersensitive to zhe light.  Zhe bastard came from novherre...  rran me over and deterrmined zheirr meat-headed Schvitzerr vould dispose of me.  No.  I zhink not!  Zat vill be zhe day!"

He tried to regain his composure, and straightened up.  He glanced back and forth between Elise and Remington, seemingly embarrassed.

"Zhorry.  I am a bit...   Antisocial...  I live in zhe rremote arreas of zhe North, so I may be out of converzational pracktice, as I typically only talk viz vild animals only.  Mostly rrrrrodents."  he rolled the r a few seconds, which further muddled his accent.

"I am Marrrlowe RRRodrick of zhe state known as Alaska.  I owe you my continued unlife, so it vould appearrr."  

"Forrr vhat it is vorrth.  Zhank you."

[Myrine Leventis]

Myrine stepped out of the elevator quietly, walking along side Aiden and Elise out the front door. She'd give them a polite nod before turning and moving to her car. She'd slip into the black vermillion BMW X6 and drive across town to Rabbit's Revenge. Aiden had graciously offered her a night on him, and while this wasn't her typical scene the Brujah wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She'd pull up in front of the club right as her phone would ring. The Valet would come around immediately to open her door, to which she would shake her head and promptly close it, moving the phone to her other ear so he could see that she was on the phone.

"Arthur. Do you have something for me?"

"Only a slew of new faces coming into town for this shindig. Aiden ask you to be his personal bodyguard?"

"Close enough. Any noteworthy faces?"

There would be an annoyed huff on the end of the phone, already not liking where this was going. "Couple of dark skins scouting around town."

"Arthur are you being racist or just descriptive. You need to clarify." Arthur was a good enough guy. Highly competent. But like many a vampire old ways of thinking or speaking were sometimes hard to break.

"Sorry boss. Dark. Unnaturally dark. Maybe East Indian features."

"Assamite. From Utah?"

"No Mam. Virgil doesn't recognize them. Think they came from up North."

"Seattle then. Which means the Ravnos Prince has accepted the offer." She'd pause and calculate in her head the distance between the two points. 10 hours of night and a 17 hour drive. "From what I understand he doesn't drive himself. We need to assume he'll be in a protected vehicle so we likely have a day, maybe two if he stops, before his arrival. Any idea where he is staying yet?"

"No Mam but we'll keep an eye out."

"Good man, Arthur. What other news do you have for me?"

"The Dusk Riders are on their way."

She'd nod. "Shorter drive but they'll have to stop. We need to be prepared. The Brujah and the Ravnos should arrive around the same time then. I understand some sixy years ago they caused some havok and destroyed some property up in San Francisco. We need to be prepared for that. Did the Malkavian Prince RSVP?"

"You mean the 'Princess'?" Arthur would chuckle on the line. When Myrine didn't laugh he'd clear his throat and continue. "Not yet as I've heard."

"She will. She was part of that same group from San Francisco. Anything else?"

"Not yet Mam."

"Thank you Arthur, keep me posted."

Myrine would hang up and open the car door, where the Valet would be waiting. She'd hand him her keys and a $20 bill, her heels placing her as taller than the kid and she'd lean over to ask him a question over the music from the club that poured into the street.

"Has Aiden Forest arrived yet?"

The mortal kid would freeze, a chill running down his spin and he'd nod, stammering softly before raising his voice, assuming she wouldn't be able to hear him over the music.

"Y.. y.. yes. Yes! Yes he has."

She'd nod and leave the kid to his job, straightening her jacket and buttoning it in the front to hide the fact she was carrying. The suit jacket draping nicely over her shoulder harness and tailored so that the lines couldn't be seen.

The club thumped from the sound of the music and her gaze would sweep over the area. It wouldn't be hard to spot Aiden, speaking with someone and seemingly having a jolly good time. With his location noted, she'd head to the bar.

[Elise Beaufort]

Patience was something Elise had in this situation. She would let him have the whole container. The corners of her lips pulled up into a tight smile when he finally spoke. 

"I know it hurts but you'll be fine."

Living a long undead life gave Elise an opportunity to learn many languages. A passion leftover from her human days. She'd scoff a little when he said he expected they would take him to the sewers.

"I don't do sewers."

She'd give him a grin, fangs and all. He explained he was blinded by the lights and he hadn't actually walked out into oncoming traffic. A brow perked. 

"Why would someone be trying to, in your words, dispose of you? People don't typically just try to run others over with a car for no reason."

She idly wondered what she may have gotten herself into. She hoped it was a simple misunderstanding on someone's part. Her eyes would glance towards Remington as Marlowe seemed to compose himself a bit. At the moment, he didn't seem to be an immediate threat. He explained he was here from Alaska. She was fairly confident he was one of the princes here for the conference but she would take the opportunity to confirm that fact. 

"I'm Elise Beaufort. You are here for the conference, yes?" She would nod slightly when he thanked her. "You're welcome."

The silence settled around them for a few moments. Eventually, Elise spoke again.

"Are you staying somewhere? We can get you where you need to be; if it is the sewers I can lead you to an entrance. However, you're on your own for navigating."

[Prince Aiden Forest]

Jean Claude van Damme was grinning from ear to ear.  Sharron finished her champagne in one gulp and shook her head in defeat.  She held her glass and Stephano poured another.

Aiden Forest was in his element.

"Okay.  Fifty-Five Million.  I fire Jason, and I won't work with him unless it is with our sister studio.    I'll hire your entire stunt team for each film, and pay them ludicrously with a signing bonus.   We get a multi-picture signature and two percent of the merchandising deal.  I don't think there is a much better set up than that, as long as we stay in budget."

The three glasses clinked together as they collectively nodded.  Jean was giddy, and Sharron was a little tipsy.

"Stay here as long as you like until morning.  I need to excuse myself to my office to attend to some unrelated matters.  Enjoy the rest of your evening!"   

He spied Myrine walk in and head over to the bar.  Aiden motioned for Stephano, and spoke to him privately.

"Ms. Leventis gets anything she asks for tonight on me.  That means, if she wants a college football player to snack on before morning, you're going to send someone to UCLA and snatch a reserve player out of his fucking bed, letter jacket and all.  Is that clear?"

Aiden grinned wickedly and gently slapped the side of Stephano's shoulder.  "Of course it is."

Stephano gulped and acknowledged the command.

~~~ 

He had phone calls to make.  He tried calling Scarlet first.  Her line went to voicemail.  She must have already left the office for the morning.  She would call him if there were any new developments...  so he thought.  

He tried calling Wheels.  Busy signal.  He had probably lost his phone again, or destroyed it.  You could never tell with him.  He loved the guy, but he fed on stoners as much as he could.

He tried calling Virgil.  He answered, sounding groggy.  "What can I help you with Aiden?  The sun nears in a few hours."

"Any word on Marlowe yet?"

"He was last spotted in the downtown industry district.  We've got ghouls taking shifts during the day to root him out.  We've been following the path Malone took just before he noticed the body was missing.  There was a set of foot prints discovered at the abandoned construction site over on 5th and Euclid.  It was met with a few other sets, so hopefully we'll know something by tomorrow night."

"Find out if he is the real deal.  Scarlet said he didn't have ID, so ask him for his invitation to the Summit.  If he has that, bring him to me so we can sort this out and provide him with accomodations.  If he can't prove anything...  have the ghouls take him to the beach and make sure he gets a nice suntan."

"Understood, boss."

Aiden hung up.  That side of the business left a bad taste in his mouth. Though, he had to protect his assets...  and the Summit would not be crashed while he was hosting.  He checked his voicemail.  Two new voicemails.  His ex wife, Josie, had called earlier in the evening.  He had almost listened to it this time.  After he was embraced, he had to leave her...  she viewed the old curse as a gift.  He just wasn't going to give her that burden.  He chose to leave her, because he loved her.

The other message was from his current wife.  She despised him.  Trophy wife number 2, gorgeous, irresistible.  Insatiable in bed.  He had fallen for her scam, and the marriage meant nothing, as it often did between kindred.  She didn't call him unless she wanted something.    

He deleted both messages without listening to them.  Tomorrow was another night.

[Ariel Hawkins]

Ariel pressed her lips together, lowering her gaze demurely as Rory looked up at her. He was charming, had always been, and she found it perhaps cute the way this rather notorious vampire Prince would bend over backwards to cater to her. At this point, with his current status, it was flattering that he'd want anything to do with her and still enjoyed her company. She was luckier than most of her kin, the hand she was dealt was relatively minor compared to the psychosis a good many of her clan was forced to endure. She also started off her unlife privileged and had retained that privilege with the assistance of others which made it easier to manage her collection. But she was still Malkavian and the clan as a whole had a certain reputation. Her eyes would land upon his hand and she'd gently reach out to touch it.

"We can dine after I've finished packing. Perhaps a stroll in the park for old times sake. I think I can finish packing in... maybe give me a couple of hours. I just have to remember that my things aren't going anywhere and I can return to them at any time. I can probably keep it down to.... four. Maybe five suitcases?"

She'd glance up with her question. Looking for validation that wasn't too many. There had been a point in her life where she wouldn't have cared what someone else thought. Then San Francisco happened. Her need to flee and the fact so many came to assist her had opened her eyes to a great many things about herself. She was also thankful to finally have true friends.

[Marlowe Rodrick]

Marlowe seemed slightly offended.

"Don't get me vrong, darlink.  In zhe old days, my clan loved zhe sewerrs.  Oh zhe fatberrrgs and rrrat kings, almost like zhe Dizhneylunt!  (don't look zhose up if you don't know vhat zhey arre!)  Vhat fun!  Zhese days, it is a sterreotype of zhe Nosferrratu zhat we eizher have no sense of smell or ve just loooove zhe smell of excrrrement and piss.  'Zhere is no Urinetown, Ve just kill people.' Schpoilers! Sorrrry bout' zhat..You could not be morre vrrong!!" 

Marlowe unwrapped his head halfway to remove the blood soaked bandages.  It revealed that he seemed to have natural scars that would likely have removed the trace of any other deformities he might have had.  Despite the texture of his skin, which gave him the look of a bruised prune, he had good bone structure, and his lips and nose were still intact.  He pulled out fresh gauze from his trench coat, and began to rewrap his head in the clean bandages.

"I don't do zhe sewers eizher, Darlink."  He quickly finished the job, using all of the gauze he had.  

He placed the goggles back on.  "I apologize Zhat you had to see zhat."  

"Anyvay...  my point is, in my clan, I zhink it has to do wiz how you vere rraised.  City-Nosferratu... maybe zhey might take a little svim in zhe septic tank.  I myself, again...  from zhe rrrremote state of Alaska.  Nobody cares vhat you look like vhen zhey live a hundred miles avay. Ya. You get it."

He stepped out of the coffin and stood up slowly.  "Ya.  You'rre rright.  I am herre for zhe conferrence.  I do not have a place to go, but I vill manage.  I should rreally get going.  Zhe sun vill be up soon." 

[Elise Beaufort]

Elise listened as Marlowe took the opportunity to dispel the stereotypes of the Nosferatu.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to offend you."

It was intriguing to her to watch him change the bandages on his face. He wasn't as deformed as she had anticipated. She nodded a bit in acknowledgement of his apology. She didn't necessarily feel it was needed. Although, she supposed, there probably were those who were offended by any Nosferatu's appearance. It made sense he wouldn't be in the sewers when he lived somewhere as remote as Alaska.

She'd step back slightly when he stepped out of the coffin. Her eyes moved from Marlowe to Remington and back to Marlowe.

"You still didn't explain who would be trying to dispose of you and why? It might not be safe for you to try and manage. They tried to get you once, I'm sure they'll do it again."

Marlowe was correct. The sun would be up soon and they would all need to go. She was going to take a chance. Maybe not as calculated of one as she would normally take. Remington had already gone out to the car and pulled up to the entrance of the building.

"I have a safe place I can offer, if you want it. But no tricks. You try anything funny and I will be the one to take you out; I don't care if you are a Prince."

With that Elise turned and moved to the car. She climbed into the back and Remington closed the door behind her. Remington would take off once Marlowe was in the car or indicated he would still manage. Either way, time was not on their side in this situation so he would gun it back to Elise's property.

It was a rather large property with a few guesthouses. The entrance was gated. There were all kinds of security cameras watching every bit of the property. Every couple of years she upgraded to the newest technology and paid a security company to watch the property as well. Maybe it was overkill but she felt it was worth it. No one got onto her property without her knowing. If they did, they didn't live.

[butterflyhime]

Kris followed Clara down the hallway a phone in his hand. "I'm RSVPing now for you. Shall i say you're going by yourself or will you be taking a plus one" He asked her curiously. Clara looked back at him with a small frown thinking it over. She shook her head. "You can just RSVP for me. I'm not taking anyone with me."

She got a look for that but Kris ignored her words and went ahead and sent the RSVP for the summit for her, plus one.

"I know what i'll do! it's been awhile since i've seen Bert, i bet i could get him to come pick me up on his motorcycle."

"I've booked a plan for you already."

"i don't care i wanna go on a motorcycle. I'm going to go try and call him." She left towards her room  looking for her cellphone.

Kris gave a sigh and shook his head moving to the elevator he got on and went down to the garage level. The garage was big but he could hear clanking coming from one of the cars. He headed to the fleet of Subarus. 

"Just so you know Clara has decided to go to L.A there's a summit being held for the Western leaders..." He trailed off for a moment waiting for a brief sign that he had been heard. "Oh right she said she was going to call Bert to give her a ride on his motorcycle."

[Rory Connoly]

He would reach over, placing his hand atop Ariel's, sandwiching it gently between his. Smiling gently, he'd nod in acceptance, then stand slowly.

"Aye luv, tha'll do. Dinnae worry ye head none either...Ah'll 'ave a few folk keep an eye on ye place while we be gone. Nary a soul will enter, jus' make suren ye dinnae get any unexpected guests disturbin' ye things. Nah if'n ye'll 'scuse me, ah'll leave a lady tae her packin' in private. Ah've a few matters tae sew up fore'n we git. Be jus' ou'side if'n ye ken me. When y'be ready, simply ca'me an ah'll load ye things."

He'd bring her hand gently to his lips, not actually kissing it, but bowing his head olde world style to acknowledge her as a lady of grace. Bowing, his fedora would roll down his arm to his elbow, where he'd snap it upward, flipping it once onto his head as he stood with a wink. Walking backwards so as not to turn from her, he's slip behind a pile of old newspapers and out from view before pivoting and exiting. 

His kindness vanished from his face as soon as the door clicked behind him. He reserved that only for her and possibly Zara, though the relationships were entirely different. Snapping his finger, his driver exited and brought him a folder. He would pull out a pair of spectacles he didn't need and put them on out of habit. He liked, in many ways, to pretend he was still human for the sake of it. For the same reason he put the unlit cigarette back between his lips, scowling at the file.

"Curse an' damnation...seems the UV rounds dinnae work. Chalk one failure fer science...damn Tremere spent too much testing th'different spectrums too...s'posen they be thorough though...silver nitrate dinnae work either...only pure silver. Hm. Interesting....but gold on Mokole? Interestin'...expensive, but tha'll do. Strange...th'Cardinal blessed bullets had signif'cant effect...Hm. Time tae get a'Holy Boy on th'payroll without 'im knowin' it....gotta be good tae be bad, I s'pose." 

He'd scowl as another car drove up, one of the new Nosferatu outcasts scurrying up to him. He was horribly disfigured, yet dressed in an Armani suit. Rory would not abide poorly dressed individuals on his staff. Much like the yakuza, he valued a certain discipline in spite of his over arching chaos. There were always rules, even for him.

"My Prince...I bring news! The Assamites! They AUUUGGH!"

Quicker than even the undead eye could see, he'd grabbed the Nosferatu by the throat, rage burning in his eyes. With a flick, his knife came out and he punctuated his words with thrusts.

"She dinnae *stab* Like *stab* Uninvited *stab* GUESTS! *Stab stab stab*

Dropping the messenger on his knees, he backhanded him hard enough to rip mottled flesh from his face. Glaring at him, the ugly one quivered and almost whimpered, staring up in confused silence. After a pregnant pause, Rory threw his arms out, palms up.

"WELL?"

Hissing and lowering his head, the Nosferatu quickly continued.

"Zara's Team reports that ghhhhk!"

Rory reached down and ripped the throat from the messanger with an exasperated sigh, handing the trachea to his driver, who accepted it within a handkerchief he pulled from his breast pocket, folding it up. The Irishman snapped his fingers and the driver drug the body quickly to the back of the vehicle, pulling out Rory's travel bag before dumping the body in. He'd return with a cylinder of Chlorox wipes, offering one to his Prince who quietly cleaned his face and hands, checking himself to make sure he didn't have any stink left on him. Pulling out his phone, he nodded to the driver in thanks before putting on a civil tone.


"Aye Zara..."

"Did you kill my Nosferatu? You did, didn't you. Well, no big loss. I was trialing him anyway. You called about my team, yes?"


"Aye...tae th'pint then, yes?"


"Surprisingly they were made. Some Kindred named Arthur. We hacked his phone when he reported, but he did not use any names. The phone was a burner as well. Double redundant encryption. Female is all we know, though speech pattern and mannerisms indicate Brujah...I'd bet a year's salary on it. Do you want him killed?"


"Nae. He's alread reported...Likely Aiden's help...a'least he's found someone wi'talent. Wanted 'im tae know I was comin'...bu'it means e'll be scopin' fer where we stayin'. Lemme know if'n ye find thi'player who too'an interes' in'me."


"Of course. She knew they were yours, Ror....according to the transcripts of the call. She's shrewd."


"Interestin'...I wan' 'er, aye I do. 'Ave to see if'n she's tae be 'ad. Ken 'er whe'Ah see 'er, ah'will. Low key, Zara...nae tryin' tae star'nothin'...nae yet, a'least."


He would hand up, licking his left fang idly. He had to have the best in the game, and whomever this woman was, if she'd made his team in the first night they were there, she had skills. His mind was already spinning up options, objectives and schemes. Everyone had their price, and he was the best fixer in the game. He'd have to figure out what her game was. Flicking his phone open, he'd dial.


"Aye...Bertie...Rory...'Earin ye be goin tae th'Summit. Aye, Aye...Ah'll be there as well. Let's get takeout fer ol'times sake. Sure'n Fruitloop'll join us. Be aware...Aiden's scoutin' the City...ye'll be watched. Assamites are mine...sounds like a sharp Brujah be in charge o'security. Any thoughts on who it might be? She plays th'game as well as Zara...perhaps better. Any ideas?"

[prepare2die]

Immediately there was a loud clang of metal meeting metal, and the softer, meatier sound of flesh smacking car. 

"FUCK!!"

A grease-covered socket wrench went flying, skittering past Kris's left foot. There was a flurry of muffled curses that followed just before Gabriel Ashcroft poked his head out from under the Forrester he was fine-tuning, leveling a foul look at the other vampire. "The hell she is! Get the fuck outta my way!" 

He rolled out from under the much-loathed vehicle, springing to his feet with the lithe, animal grace of a man hell-bent on destroying everything in his path. Uncaring of his current filthy state, he stalked past the other, punching the elevator control with his fist. Snarling under his breath at how long the doors took to quietly sweep open, he jumped in anyway, slapping the controls and kicking the side of the machine with his boot. It wasn't as satisfying as kicking a door open, but he'd get that opportunity once he made it up to her rooms. He rode up to her floor, arms crossed over his chest angrily, a curl of gelled bleached hair falling over his eye. 

Luckily no one else was on her floor. In a fit of thinly controlled temper, he grabbed the nearest object--a glass vase of brightly colored flowers--and threw it across the hall. Gabe was already at the first door when it shattered loudly into pieces. 

"Where are you!," he growled, kicking the first door open to find no one. 

"I know you're fucking up here!," he called out again, the second door snapping open by the force of his fist this time. 

"If you think you're riding off any-fucking-where with that prick--" Bang! The third door bit the dust, rocking off of its hinges. 

Followed by the fourth door. 

And then the fifth. 

When he found her in the sixth room, she had the nerve to look surprised. It only pissed him off that much more. 

"Cameron Fucking Frye down there said you were just going for a quick business trip on the goddamned plane! What's this shit he's going on about now about you going with some asshole on a bike, you crazy bitch!?" Just because he'd been avoiding her since he'd last been returned--cursing her damned charmed collar around his throat the entire way--didn't mean he wanted her leaving with just anyone. He'd assumed her anal-retentive freak of a child would be taking care of things, and her, as there was no way in hell he'd bother to get on a plane ever again. Anyone else taking her alone on a motorcycle was just Not. Going. To. Happen. If she didn't like it she could keep her ass there in Vegas where it belonged. It wasn't like he gave a shit about vampire summits and meetings or even about any other vampires. 

[butterflyhime]

She spun around shocked to see him. A small smile crossed her lips at the sight of the Gangrel she kept close to her. The blonde moved quickly and wrapped her arms around him. "Puppy you came home!" Isabella pulled back from the hug lifting her chin up a little to stare at the taller male. 

"What did Kirs say? Why would i go on a motorcycle with anyone..." She trailed off thinking a moment when it suddenly hit her. Clara had been searching for her cellphone. "Ah right Bert...i was just going to ask him and his gang to pick me up...why is that bad? He's going to the summit to most likely so why shouldn't we go together?" 

[prepare2die]

"Knock it off with that shit," he snapped, bristling for the umpteenth time at being called a puppy by any of her personalities. But since it was Isabella greeting him, the growling at least subsided as he listened impatiently to the rest of what she was saying. In his mind's eye, he was seeing her plastered against some biker asshole's back on a motorcycle, and just like that, the growl returned in the back of this throat.



Even if half of her personalities drove him up the wall, sent him running away periodically to regain his own sanity as well as give Kris time enough to repair the building, he was still the one in charge of protecting her. The reasoning behind why his violent temper flared whenever he thought about her relying on someone else for that protection went over his head, as usual. All he knew was that her little plan wasn't going to happen. If it was, it would be over his dead body and the bodies of the ones he took down with him.



"Call the prick back and tell him you're going with me."

[butterflyhime]

She let out a tiny little laugh and placed her hands on her hips giving him another look. "I can't not call you Puppy. You're my puppy." She insisted. Malinda might have been the one who took the Gangrel in when he was hurt and needed help but she was the one you found a way to get an enchanted collar to put on her puppy when he had upset her. She reached up to poke at the tag on the collar.

"See this says it's true."

He pulled away before he could do anything and moved around Clara's room thinking a moment. "I do what i want Gabby i'm going with the other bikers." It didn't matter that Clara or even her hadn't called Bert yet, messing with Gaberial when he was all growly was a fun past time for her.

[prepare2die]

He gritted his teeth, fangs bared menacingly as she played with the collar around his neck. Since it was useless to try and take the damned thing off, he resisted the urge to try yet again to wrestle with it. He might have eventually forgiven and forgotten about the collar in and of itself since he'd worn them before in his mortal life, but once the tag had gone on proclaiming her ownership...she was just lucky she'd charmed the shit out of it so he could never remove it on his own. After he'd tried a multitude of tools to try and get it off, she'd finally let him in on the joke two seconds before he'd turned on the blowtorch. Little psycho bitch.

Her current attitude wasn't helping any, but this was Isabella. Even though he liked her a damn sight more than a couple of Clara's other personalities, she could still be a spoiled little princess of a brat at any given time. Well, let her stamp her little feet all she wanted. The snobby little princess act wasn't going to work for her this time. 

"You're going with me or your ass stays here. Those are your fucking choices," He informed her, drawing his line in the sand. 

[butterflyhime]

She huffed and stomped her foot down giving him a pouty look. How dare he talk to her like that. She was the freaking princess of Las Vegas for crying out loud. "Do you realize who you're talking to puppy. I'm the princess of this state. All the vampires here answer to me and you're sitting there telling me i only have two choices?"

She moved forward and kicked him as hard as she cook. "I'll have you know that i'm going to go by myself so ha! I won't go with you either you stupid puppy."