NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: If you wheren't invited to participate in the sign-up thread, don't post here. Some harsh language will be used, so if you are sensetive to that sort of thing, don't read any further...

WARNING
This RP contains some harsh language and some extreme violence. If you are offended by this sort of content do not continue to read.

IC:
Nightfall was like dawn to the vampiric community, supernatural denizens of the wee hours pulling the night shift in place of their mortal brethren. The serene silence of the darkness was broken by the ear-splitting boom of plastic explosives detonating somewhere downtown. Faust's capitol city, Refrain, was under attack, but not from the typical enemy. It was like a cancer, attacking from within without warning or provocation.

Outside of the capitol building lay the flaming remains of an expensive Lincoln limo, which had contained the senator from the outlying state of Melody. The state was a major defensive contractor with the central government, its many research firms providing the nation with a wealth of advancements in the field of military science and application. The loss of its senator in such a violent fashion would set relations with the national military back several months while trusts where re-established and new friendships forged with the new senator.

Vendetta had done his homework well, selecting his targets with extreme precision and executing his objectives with extreme prejudice. Observing his handiwork through a set of old binoculars from atop a nearby residential building, his fangs glimmered slightly in the failing moonlight. His smile faded quickly, however, at the sight of his partner wading in amongst the gathering crowd. The protective agency had surrounded the president seconds after the bomb had gone off, with other senators following suit, but still remaining the in the general area...

"Fuckin' bitch..."

Detta's speech hadn't improved since his siring back in the seventies, or improved his disposition any. With malice in his eyes he began screwing the barrel into his R93 Professional Synthetic, a .308 caliber assassin's weapon with a nine-power scope...

Anarchy wove through the crowd where she could, and shoved where she couldn't, finally making it to the ring of protective agents surrounding her target, a senator from the state of Chord. The protective agent stopped her short...

"Ma'am, please don't come any closer..."

She ignored him, brushing past. A second, nearly identical man tried to stop her forcefully this time, but she simply grabbed him by the wrists and flung him back into his partner from before. By this time the agents had drawn their guns, taking aim and yelling for her to lie face-down on the ground. Her eyes reddened as her Protean abilities took over, talon-like claws sliding from within her fingers and tearing through the nearest agent's neck. Gunshots rang out as she began her murderous spree, carving her way to the senator as bullets ripped through her chest with little effect. Anarchy's claws disemboweled the unfortunate man with ease, at least until a heavy impact struck her across the back of the head, sending her into a state of torpor...

Vendetta's shot had struck home, leaving Anarchy's stupid ass laid out on the pavement as he figured out how to best handle the task of getting her body out of the morgue. She was far beyond out of control, his or any elder he'd ever met, which amounted to about two. Her skull was cracked open from the powerful impact of the .308 bullet, which had either killed her or put her out until he could pump some fresh blood into her system...

Count Vincent Alexander Amadeus Wagner van Tarkanian III, or more commonly known as simply Tark (http://www.internationalhero.co.uk/d/doriangraylxg.jpg), walked down a large street by the capitol building shortly after nightfall. A time when there was an odd mix of humans and vampires together, though it was always quite obvious to notice who the vampires were. They had this look of need... a look of craving, when they saw the mortals stroll past them. It was undeniable as the vampires needed blood.

However, Tark was not like the average vampire. He was generally amiable with the mortals of the world, and even respected some of them, though not as much as the vampires he respected the most. He wore his usual gray, pin-striped suit with a gray vest and white shirt underneath as his right hand gripped his cane. His lethal and highly useful cane that few knew about and even fewer lived to remember. Though he didn't use it often, being one of the more peaceful of his kind, he was a master with the blade it hid and wielded it like none other.

'A cultured man,' as Tark described himself, who enjoyed the fine arts: books, art, performances, and generally the old-fashioned.

As he walked, humming an aria from a recent opera he had seen, his attention was shattered by an explosion that rocked the gentle night. What the...? he thought as he began using his keen senses to detect what had happened...

((ooc: Not the greatest intro, but I am sick and my head is also shaken up.))

Vendetta's mood was its general sour self, watching grimly though the perfectly clean lense of his scope as Anarchy's corpse was hauled away with the bodies of her victims. It was unfortunate it had come to such drastic measures, but he couldn't risk using such ham-handed tactics and blatant disreguard for the secrecy that was the life-blood of his kind.

While he was used to sliding under the mortal radar, there were times when his vampiric abilities had been crucial for his continued survival, and he had made use of them in the most expedient manner. Growing claws and carving through a cluster of secret service agents after a high-profile governmental dinner, however, was not a survival situation, and discretion had to be preserved at all costs.

Slowly, he unscrewed the barrel with his large hands, scarred from use as anything from blunt striking devices to handy tools. His frame was powerfully-built, giving him an excuse to perform feats of above-average strength if needed. His remorseless eyes were a yellow hue, but in the days of color-change contacts, this wasn't exactly a strange thing. The pallor of his flesh was a darker pale than most kindred, but still light enough to identify him as a pure-bred caucasian male. Vendetta's biceps rippled beneath the sleeves of his semi-loose T-shirt, a faded Army-issue brown, hiding a definded chest and abdominal region behind its worn fabric. The pants were much the same, a pair of Vietnam-issue tiger-stripe fatigues complemented with a new pair of combat boots he'd bought from a disgruntled Nevada National Guard supply sergeant the week before. The mil-spec M16A4 assault rifle complete with M203 Grenade Launcher he'd also aquired from that same individual waited down in his old Chevy truck, hidden behind the seats and under a greasy tarp.

Under his arms hung his trusted companions of many years, a pair of Colt Delta Elite 1911-style handguns, sporting stainless-steel finishes, modified match-grade triggers and threaded bull barrels with compensators. The 10mm automatics had good effect against mortals, as well as vampires to a degree as the sheer mass typically knocked them off balance. Hogue grips had been installed, adding finger-swells and some meat to the skinny single-stack grips of his weapons. Typically hidden under a beaten leather biker jacket, they were currently in plain view.

The final accessory to his wardrobe was a black bandanna tied over his head like a scarf like he'd worn back in the sweltering jungles of Nam. It was his identifying mark, besides the tattoos that remained from his mortal days. The ink consisted of a series of thick tribal thorns circling down his forearms and up his shoulders to intersect at the base of his skull. The design had been expanded down his chest, partially covering his throat and linking with the previous design by going across his collar bones and over his shoulders.
The tops of his hands were slightly different than the wicked-looking artwork, ending in fierce-looking open-mouthed skulls which seemed to flow from within the design, as if the broad black lines across his skin were actually tracing the spiraling path of the demonic skulls on his hands. Their screaming jaws opened inward, towards one another, like they were seeking to collide with one another, yet limited by Vendetta's flesh and prevented from doing so.

It was a nice touch, at least he thought. The skulls typically weren't covered by the fingerless tactical gloves that commonly ornamented his hands, giving them a less-aggressive look. The R93 went back into its improvised sheath, a padded beginner's golf bag made from nylon, and onto Vendetta's back before his descent down the drain pipe that had allowed his ascent to his snipers nest...

It would be great, no doubt existed within Voices' fragmented mind that the results of his latest 'plot' would be the best yet. Of the few other Malkavian vampires that he'd encountered, they all agreed that Voices had unique ideas, usually the most fun.

Leaning against a large dumpster within an alleyway, Voices looked up at the moon and grinned, his black eyes gleaming in the mild light. Nightlife never used to suit him, back in his mortal days at least. Of course that didn't matter anymore, now free of his mortal restraints Voices was free to do as he wished, live where he wished and feed on whatever he wished.

Voice's appearance could be best described as thug-like, dressed in a tattered grey t-shirt with a brown jacket to hide the pistol shoved down the back of his jeans. Worn down sneakers enclosed his feet and a stained baseball cap sat upon his brown head of hair. Most mortals never gave Voices a second thought, that is unless he fed from them or they happened to be an unfortunate victim of one of his many pranks.

Alex... are you read?"

"Of course I'm ready, haven't you been watching?"

No Alex, I've been contemplating future endeavours.

"Aren't you always?"

Quiet. Are the explosives in place? And the balls?

"Yes, everything is. I added a little something extra as well..."

What?

"Just you wait, you'll love it."

We shall see...

Voices disliked the somewhat disapproving manner he picked up within his head, it wasn't usual at all. Nevertheless, others would be watching and he knew they'd enjoy it.

The minutes passed and Voices continued to wait in anticipation, the timer would be going off soon, then the fun would begin. Deciding he needed a better vantage point, Voices climbed onto the dumpster next to him, followed by a single leap upwards onto a retracted fire escape ladder. Taking full advantage of his supernatural agility, Voices scurried up the ladder and launched himself onto the roof, now able to look down upon the street before him.

Several more minutes passed before an earth shattering roar filled the air, signalling the eruption of multiple explosions. Whilst the explosions themselves weren't that big, Voices has rigged up microphones and speakers in key locations just to add a little more to the drama.

The heavily populated street of cars and pedestrians had no chance of moving as millions upon millions of small, rubber bouncy balls poured down the hill, out of windows and even out of sewerage manholes. Some screamed whilst others merely stared in shock as the plague of balls finally hit, refracting in every possible direction, hitting people, breaking windows and generally being in the way.

Voices almost fell off the building as he rolled back in a fit of laughter, tears filling his eyes as he held his gut, attempting to halt the humourous spasms. Everything worked perfectly, the looks on those people's faces had been worth the days of effort.

What's the surprise, Alex?

Regaining a degree of composure, Voices sat up once again and peered down at the street of bouncing chaos.

"Just you wait..."

Seconds after Voices spoke another explosion erupted, unleashing yet another wave of bouncy doom. Yet this wave presented more of a problem to the innocent victims. These balls were on fire.

"Hmmm, damnit!"

Why fire?

"I coated them in an oil based grease, I wanted to make them extra slippery... not flaming."

Genius... really nice Alex. I'd smack you across the head if I could

"Shutup."

Voices' attention was stolen for a moment as he noted a car erupt into flames amongst the flaming mass of bouncing balls.

"Ha, they won't be driving anywhere soon!"

You are a fool... it doesn't surprise me your parents didn't want you.

His grin now faded, Voices' face twisted into anger.

"You shut the hell up you stupid bastard, you don't know what you're talking about!"

Let's go.

With the enjoyment now robbed from the moment, Voices sighed and made his way to the other end of the building, promptly leaping across the narrow alley and onto the next. This process continued until he came across a gap too wide to jump and so he looked to the ground, just in time to see a bunch of dead men and a woman being shoved into the back of a vehicle.

Why do I feel so schizophrenic this week? Aeschia mused as she chuckled to herself. I suppose this is how I must live if I want to enjoy the diverse amalgam of activities that I prefer.

She was referring to the fact that her interests ran the gamut of fine arts, opera, classical music, and the like, to Goth clubs, just about all music, and every imaginable type of person was interesting to her.

Last night, she went to an opening of La Traviata. Aeschia is and has always been a patron of the fine arts, thus with her vast wealth, she donated to these ventures. At the opera, she wore a beautiful full-length black gown, with spaghetti straps, and corset. The corset was part of a straight gown with a side slit for walking. Small areas of lace accented her beautiful figure. Her jewelry was laden with diamonds and rubies.

The crowd was the usual upper class in Refrain... the crème' de la crème', movers and shakers and business people, as well as the plain old wealthy families that had been in the city for generations. Aeschia was completely comfortable with mortals as well as kindred and had enjoyed the opera tremendously.

Now she was at the grand opening of a rooftop club called Savage; mortals and kindred both welcome, wearing a black leather mini skirt and halter with high heel over-the-knee boots. Over this, she wore her favorite black cape, clasped in front with two gold chains. Better to hide the plethora of weapons she happened to be carrying.

Perhaps it was a wise decision to carry the weapons tonight, she thought as she leaned over the brick railing to see the chaos around the city.

The entire crowd on the roof was watching what looked like an assassination attempt or riot, complete with explosives.

Before they could even comment to each other regarding this event, the strangest thing Aeschia had ever seen proceeded to commence Explosions accompanied by uncountable rubber balls bouncing from every direction... then flaming bouncing balls.

Aeschia rolled her eyes. Looks like the Malkavians are having their evening fun.

Who am I? What am I? What was I? What have I become? These were the questions that plagued the mind of a man known formerly as Marcus Thaddeus, a gifted guerrilla specialist hardened by years of dreadful experience fighting for the survival of his homeland. When his homeland eventually fell to the overwhelming power of its enemies, Marcus fled and became an exile. And like many others, became a mercenary. He was no ordinary mercenary, however. Instead of fighting for the survival of his people and for his homeland, he fought for a higher ideal. He fought against the growing and grave threat of the darkness that sought to swallow humanity. He fought as an agent against the darkness and against those beings that seemed to come solely from the darkest corners of one's nightmares. Casting aside the painful memories of his past, relinquishing his identity to the mists of forgetfulness, Marcus Thaddeus died and another being was born.

His name was Abel, Abel Requiem...

-----

As dusk approached the city of Refrain, a silohuette of a man remaind upon the roof of one of the buildings in the center of the capital city. A man covered entirely by a heavy black cloak stood, pulled and pushed gently by the wind around him, gazed serenely down upon a city as it descended slowly into the darkness. Regarding the city coldly with eyes long since dead, the man pulled the cloak tighter upon his body and continued to watch coldly the scene unfold before his very eyes.

When everything ended, when the vampire was killed by another, the man turned towards moon, revealing his features to the world. A young man he was, but yet a young man he was no longer. For his eyes were haunted by the things he had seen, the suffering that he had endured, and the death that he experienced. He was Abel, a vampire. A vampire that hunted vampires to be exact. Fuelled only by a powerful and overwhelming need for vengeance, Abel had returned to the organization that he had served and worked to wreck his own havoc upon those that had destroyed his life...

Satisfied that his current prey was dead, Abel turned and began to walk, calmly shouldering his weapon, a modified HK91. Once again, he disappeared into the darkness to hunt a new prey...

Vendetta slammed the door of his Chevy shut, cranking the engine as calmly as he could. He'd need to rush to the morgue before the morticians could run any blood-work on Anarchy and reveal her as something less than human...

'FUCK!'

He swore within the comforting silence of the truck cab, slamming his steering wheel with both fists. The horn had long been broken, at least that was what he'd gathered after the 10mm shattered the skull of the former owner and his corpse had pressed down onto it.

The mission would have been a simple one, at least for himself. He was used to solo operations, guerilla work, that sort of thing. Breaking the back of a weak government would have been a cakewalk under any other circumstances. Club politics dictated that he work with another on any operation they asked him to undertake. At first he'd been relieved when he'd found out that his partner was a Gangrel, and a female to boot. Gangrel had always been less willing to accept the political bullshit associated with the main body, following the free-state movements with the Brujah. It could have been a Ventrue, or a crazy-ass Malkavian... Now he wasn't sure if she wasn't part Malkavian.

Vendetta's orders had been simple: Go away, and stay the fuck away from the capitol building until an hour after the dinner party ends. Said party had ended, senators went to their cars, and Vendetta triggered the explosives at the most expedient time, killing three of the ten senators, and Anarchy had dropped another. He had the option of either killing or turning the remaining six and the president, who would all be staying on the capitol grounds for the next week to be sure there would be no other assassination attempts.

Anarchy's appearance had upset the delicate balance he'd needed for operational security, and he just couldn't have that. She was hot-blooded, more so than his Brujah blood had made him.

His reflective self-thought was shattered, much like the back windshield of his truck, by a flaming super-ball, igniting the bandanna on his head as the flaming object ricocheted around the cab of the truck...

"Motherfucker!"

Catching the thing deftly and doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his undead hand, Vendetta punched through his window and dropped the thing in the street before slapping himself upside the head to kill the flames licking at his scalp. His hand was screwed, at least until he fed again, and his right ear was badly burned. The palm of his right hand now sported a nasty charred section, accented by charred blood. It had taken his mind off of its murderous course, however...

Instead of pouring gasoline over Anarchy's corpse and applying a zippo, he'd attempt to revive her. The Chevy made a slow right turn, pulling into the morgue parking lot just off of second street, and near the local police department. Shrugging into his jacket, Vendetta headed inside...

"Excuse me, I'm here to see a relative of mine..."

The desk clerk reguarded him strangely, taken aback by his eyes probably...

"What was the name?"

"No idea. She's a mexican chick, probably brought in here about ten minutes ago..."

The clerk's eyes narrowed more than Vendetta liked, suspicion beginning to creep into the clerk's mind and his hand towards the alarm buzzer under the desk...

"What would your relation be to her? She's listed as Jane Doe at the moment..."

"I'm her brother, by marriage..."

The clerk's eyes reguarded him with a bit more respect now, most likely feeling sorry for his loss or some other bullshit mortal emotion...

"Are you aware she killed three secret service members and a Faust senator?"

"I am."

The clerk's hand moved under the lip of the desk, stopping short at Vendetta wrapped his left hand around the clerk's throat and pulled him forward over it...

"Bad idea..."

Vendetta's fangs sank easily into the soft flesh of the man's neck, feeling the surge of life-energy flow into his system and heal his burn wounds to a degree. The blood came slower now, and Vendetta threw his victim backwards into the creme-colored walled behind the reception desk, the man landing in a euphoria-induced coma. He wouldn't remember a thing when he woke up.

Vendetta grimaced as he wiped his mouth. He hated feeding on males, it felt so gay...

"Alrightly... Where to find Anarchy?"

With a 10mm in hand, he walked down the hallway towards the freezer, opening the door with his foot to avoid leaving fingerprints, if indeed he still had any. Jane Doe was situated on an operating table towards the back, still clad in her bloody clothing. Her skull was a mess, it would take more than just his blood to revive her. Then again, he just couldn't leave her there. With few other choices, Vendetta slung her over his shoulder and carried her out into the parking lot where he deposited her in the truck bed and slung the tarp that formerly covered his M16 over her corpse.

His unpleasant nightly business concluded, he headed for his haven, a basement in a rural section of town. The owner had also owned the pickup truck he was currently driving. It was a half-hour trek, but well-worth it for the secrecy it provided. Pulling the truck into the covered parking area, he carted Anarchy, his rifles, and himself inside. The weaponry went on the kitchen table, in place for a cleaning after that night's use. Anarchy's body went into the fridge, still wrapped in the tarp. Vendetta folded her up as best he could, then stuck her in next to the fifth of Jack Daniels he'd left there previously. Since he didn't eat, there had been no need to keep the food in the fridge. He'd keep her there until he could get in contact with his superiors and get someone with more potent blood to awaken her.

The last thing on his list was matinence of his equipment, and the R93 was first in line...

OOC: Sorry for my lack of posting, been real busy with Uni.

IC: Taking full advantage of his supernatural sight, Voices noted another man standing upon a building across the street, packing something into a bag. Voices' instincts told him this man had something to do with the little bit of chaos down on the street. Several men were dead and people stood around in shock, attempting to take in what they'd just witnessed.

A manic grin crossed Voice's face as he gazed upon the scene below him and back at the man, who was promptly getting off the building and away from the scene. Perhaps he was another Malkavian? Voices was always keen to meet another of his kind and compare pranks, there were few of his age and experience that played good pranks, yet there had to be some out there.

Follow him, Alex.

"Yes, he looks interesting..."

Spinning around, Voices ran towards the other side of the building and didn't hesitate in jumping off, landing with a thud a few meters lower upon a fire escape. In one fluid motion the vampire had made his way over the railing and taken hold of the ladder, riding it towards the hard ground. Knowing he'd have to hurry if he were to keep up with this guy, Voices began his sprint down an alleyway and quickly across the street, avoiding cars and people as if they were merely minor obstacles.

Rounding a corner, Voices noted the man getting into a car and cursed slightly. He couldn't keep up with a car, yet hopefully he'd be heading towards Voice's own little chaos, that would slow him down.

Now upon yet another building, Voice's managed to keep one eye on the car whilst he dodged this way and that, leaping over small gaps in between buildings whilst others involved a few more acrobatics. Ever since becoming a vampire, Voice's true Malkavian nature had taken over and as a consequence he seemed to have a much smaller sense of danger, allowing him to confidently perform acts of what most would call incredible stupidity without being too concerned about the consequences.

After several minutes of following the car, it came to a stop outside the city morgue. Voice's grinned once again.

He must be after that dead girl...

"Perhaps she's not so dead?"

Indeed. One of us.

It wasn't long before the man returned, the apparently dead woman slumped over his shoulder.

"Time to follow again..."

Vendetta's weaponry was in near-pristine condition, with the exception of his R93, which has fired a single round that night. Since he only used hand-loaded non-corrosive ammunition, a quick swab of the bolt assembly and a patch or two down the barrel took care of his cleaning duties for the night...

Tark walked briskly through the night. After hearing and sensing the explosion that rocked the pleasantness of the evening, he had made his way towards the area of destruction and took in all that he saw. Apparently it was no accident. No. It was a hit. He saw the charred bodies of the dead and studied them quickly, but wasted no time in getting away from the area.

After memorizing what he saw to the best of his ability, Tark quickly left the area and walked to a (upper-class) bar where he could collect his thoughts and have a relaxing drink. He was probably slightly overdressed for the bar in his pin-striped gray suit and vest, but most of the patrons merely shrugged him off.

There was an empty seat near the far end of the bar that he found his way to. The balance of power and political stability are not things to mess with lightly...

Voices found himself lurking outside the building the strange man and dead woman had gone into. He still had no idea who they were, yet they'd certainly grabbed his attention and he couldn't merely walk away now. The voice within his head wouldn't allow it.

Moving around the building, Voices looked for some covert way inside as he didn't imagine the man with guns would simply allow him to walk right in. Unfortunately his search was rather fruitless, with all potential entry points sealed in a manner that would make significant noise to unseal. Voices sighed.

Why not the front door? Idiot.

"And you think he's just going to invite me inside for a coffee?"

You never know...

"Heh, and they call me crazy..."

Moving around to the front door, Voices banged his head upon it several times, even using his head at one point just to make sure he was being heard.

Aeschia was getting bored with this club. She grabbed her cape, which hid her weapons belt, and headed down the outside stairs just one floor.

After she was out of sight, Aeschia jumped to the ground. She walked down the streets with no particular destination.

A hit and freaky Malkavian pranks. *she rolled her eyes again*

So what was this hit about? Politics obviously. How could she find out more?

Aeschia decided the best thing to do was go home, change into more elegant clothing and go to a lounge where the politicos hung out. Probably any upper class lounge, however, there was usually one particular club that was the meeting place of the politicians. She would just have to find out where that was.

When she got home, she changed into an elegant burgundy full length gown, slit up the back, all lace with a very low cut back, spaghetti straps, and very lowcut front, showing all her curves and not leaving much to the imagination. She put her hair in an updo and added some stunning jewelry and heels. The usual makeup, deep red lipstick and she was ready to go. Stunning was the only word for her appearance, which was a plus, as perhaps she would attract some people who could give her some information.

Aeschia put her weapons belt on loops inside her cape, so she could carry her cape, yet have her weapons with he. She took the elevator to the lobby, and descended into the night, deciding to walk down the main streets. Having fed earlier, this was not an issue. She kept her eyes open for anyone who may be useful or at least interesting, as well as for a club that may be the type she was looking for.

Roused from his light doze, Vendetta grasped one of his 10mm automatics as he moved towards the thumping door, fingers wrapping tightly around the oversized rubber grips. Slowly, he approached the side of the doorframe...

"We don't want any... Go the fuck away..."

The use of 'we' typically discouraged even the bravest of salesmen, in that it implied that several people within were annoyed by his presence. Vendetta awaited a reply, keeping himself out of sight from the front windows. He half expected an incindiary grenade to come flying in through the window and coat his ass in flaming thermite...

Thoughts and questions shot through Tark's mind as reality seemed to slow down in the elegant bar known as La Barre de Prodige. Who was beyond the day's attacks? Smoke swirled in the air and rose to the fans as the gentleman who were sitting at the bar smoked big cigars. What were their motives? A cocktail waitress passed by the vampire's stool and stepped behind the bar to fill an order. Why?

Voices was slightly startled as the door didn't open yet someone was obviously in there, speaking to him. He knew he wasn't selling anything, those within his head weren't selling anything. He was speechless for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Tell him you're not selling anythin, idiot. He thinks you're a salesman.

"Oh... right."

"I'm not selling anything... I just want to talk to you... nothing wrong with that, is there?"

This guy is pretty paranoid... yet I suppose I would be too if I'd just been part of a hit upon government officials.

"Yeh..."

Voices managed to wait continue waiting patiently, despite the other suggestions that kept creeping into the back of his head.

Vendetta lowered the weapon slightly...

'This nut is off his rocker... It's close to three AM and he wants to chat...'

He considered the fact that he might be able to drain this chatty bastard for a bit of an early-morning snack...

'I could use a drink...'

Slowly, he opened the door, being careful not to expose himself to the outside world...

"Come on in..."

It was an odd ploy, but if it went south he could always put a round or two in the fucker and bury him in the backyard...

Voices grinned as the door opened, yet made an effort not display his fangs. Whilst he assumed this one was a vampire judging upon his apperance and some basic actions, one could never be sure until they came across conclusive proof.

Gazing upon the man before him, Voices nodded in thanks as he finally moved inside, taking a moment to look around. The first thought that entered his mind was how well the house would burn, lots of wood. Whilst that idea was quite appealing, there were other more pressing distractions.

Keep it together, Alex...

"Hmmm, nice...... place you have.... here...."

Whilst Vendetta couldn't hear it, the dominant voice within Alex's head was interrupting his sentence, frustration becoming obvious upon his pale face.

Vendetta was somewhat taken aback by the visitor's mannerisums, but the skin hue and odd facial expression that commonly hid fangs marked him as a possible vampire, and most likely a Malkavian...

"Take a seat..."

The 'Barre de Prodige' was turly a hotspot for upper-crust vampiric activity this evening. Not long after Tark arrived, a vampiric female seemed to float through the doorway. Clad in a slim, well-fitting black dress that was split on the sides nearly to her thighs. She was very well-built, sporting the best in feminine qualities from her firm breasts to her shapely thighs. Her jet-black hair was almost blue in color, so deep was its dark hue. It was done up in a simple bun on the back of her head. She was extremely attractive, sure to catch the eyes of Kindred and Kine alike. Her pale skin perfectly accented the color of her clothing. Every inch of her appearance screamed 'Ventrue'.

Her single accessory, a fashionable Prada handbag that matched her stilletto heels and her dress in color, concealed a small Bersa Thunder, an effective .380 automatic that had served her well in the past. She seated herself at the bar, ordering a Cosmopolitan that seemed to fit her appearance well. The black fingernail polish barely concealed the dried blood beneath them.

If one knew her better, they'd know her appearance was a complete ruse. She wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, and being one of the higher-ups involved in the Faust Requium takeover, she had intimate knowledge of the plan's inner workings. On the way in she'd scoped the place for vampiric presence, as well as that of hunters. She'd seen only one possible vampire, a well-dressed man. She'd passed a female much like herself on the way in as well, and had begun to wonder why there were so many vampires in what was supposed to be a virgin nation, ripe for the taking...

OOC: That a bit better?

ooc: Certainly helps.

More vampires here? Tark thought as his eyes wandered from his drink to a stunning female who had just walked in the door. Every part of her had been made to entice the wandering eye, and they had succeeded. Tark was now locked onto her, as he noticed she was like him.

She sat down just two seats over from him and he watched as the bartender brought her a Cosmopolitan. What the hell... he thought as he decided to go for it - he needed information and it was much easier to talk to another vampire about it... especially from the rumors he had heard so far from this odd nation.

"Crazy stuff today, huh...?" He said casually to her as she took a sip.

Aeschia walked into the Barre de Prodige', and immediately saw two well dressed, vampires, both seeming to be similar to her.

As she walked to the bar, a good share of the men turned around to look at her. A very stunning and exotic woman she was, as well as well dressed.

Aeschia sat next to the woman, who happened to be two seats down from the man. She ordered a flute of the establishment's best Brut.

I will just start talking. I will never figure out anything any other way.

"Hello you two." Aeschia smiled at them. "It is nice to see some kindred here." She remarked.

Aeschia looked at the woman and complimented her. "Your dress is beautiful. Did you get it in the city?" she asked.

While waiting for her answer, she added, addressing both of them, "So... have the Malkavian's been playing basketball today? Not to mention the other strangeness. Forgive me. I have only been in the city a short while, but what an odd, if not entertaining day. Do either of you know what is going on around here, if I may be so blunt?"

The gorgeous female nodded, turning her head in his direction as she lifted the Cosmo from the bar-top...

"Truly. The assassination of several senators and an explosion of flaming rubber balls from the sewers makes for an interesting night..."

Her choice of words would have betrayed her to a perceptive hunter's ear, but hopefully there weren't any in attendance. On being greeted as kindred, she glared at the female standing to her right...

"Shhh! Do you have no idea what you're doing?"

Her tone was harsh, but subdued. More of a chastising whisper than anything...

"These people don't know what 'kindred' means, but that doesn't mean there aren't hunters around. We aren't exactly accepted in this country... Yet."

She had appreciated the compliment on the dress, and it occoured to her to lighten the mood a bit by answering the question...

"No, sadly I didn't buy my dress in town..."

Her tone was now audible to anyone who could pluck her words from the background roar of the nightclub...

"I had it specially tailored in Italy... Do you two know each other?"

It seemed odd that she'd been approached by two wealthy-looking kindred at the same time...

"My name is Whisper, by the way. It's a pleasure to meet both of you..."

This chance encounter could land her a few more allys in her plot to take over the nation. With Vendetta currently trying to clean up the mess from earlier, she would need all the help she could get...

Vendetta moved into the kitchen as the visitor entered the living room...

"Hold on a sec, I got something in the oven..."

It was a bold-faced lie, but it got him into the kitchen where he was able to get his cell-phone out of his pocket. He quickly dialed a number and held the older-model Nokia to his ear...

"Pick up goddammit..."

His report for the evening was due in about five minutes, but such things were always better delivered earlier than later...

Something in Whisper's purse began to vibrate, rattling against her little pistol...

"Excuse me a moment..."

She reached inwards, brushing the Bursa aside as she pulled her black Motorolla Razor from her handbag...

"Yes?"

It was Vendetta on the other end of the line...

Vendetta growled as Whisper picked up...

"It's Detta. I've got Anarchy's stupid ass stuffed in the fridge, some wacko that looks like a Malkavian in the living room, and a huge-ass mess outside the capitol building because of that dykey Gangrel your people set me up with..."

He wasn't exactly happy with his current situation, or the fact that one of his crazy cousins of the night had tracked him back to his Haven. Venting his anger to his superior was merely a coping mechanisum, as well as a useful tool for relaying information...

Whisper's black-painted lips drooped into a rather pissed-off version of a frown...

"This really isn't the time for this, but I'll be right over. Mind if I bring some friends?"

Her sarcastic comment would likely draw a string of curses from her operator, but she didn't really care. He was effective, and that was why he'd been chosen for this assignment. She'd protested sending Anarchy with him, but she'd been over-ruled. Her status as an Elder, despite the fact that she was little more than two-hundred years old, didn't come with absolute power. Anchients had a tendency to want things their way, and as old and powerful as they were, she was inclinded to give them what they wanted, even though Vendetta, and his deceased sire were her operatives.

She'd used him as a scalpel on many occasions, for precision cuts to the vampiric hierarchy to trim away any 'fat' she saw as opposition to her unofficial position as Prince of Faust Requium. He'd been very effective, and no-one was the wiser as she made her way to the top of the Ventrue clan in the area...

Vendetta snarled into the cell-phone...

"Great, we'll just have us a fuckin' party, won't we? The more the fuckin' merrier I always fuckin' say..."

The snide remark on his handler's part was uncalled-for, but she was well within her right to do such a thing. He wasn't exactly the easiest person to have working for you...

"Goddammed bitch..."

He muttered as he clicked the 'END' button on the cell before replacing it in his fatigue pocket...

Now what to do with his current visitor?

Despite being in the living room, Voices was able to hear part of the conversation Vendetta was engaged in. Alas his hearind didn't extend to who was on the other line yet it became apparent his host was not in a happy state of mind.

Be careful, Alex...

"Shutup, I'll handle this..."

Noticing that the conversation was over, Voices moved towards the kitchen door and popped his head in.

"Everything.. alright in here?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Voices didn't trust this character, he just seemed very suspicious. Unfortunately that part of his mind was rarely in control as curiousity had overwhelmed him.

Vendetta nearly whipped the Delta from his waistband, so sudden was the interruption...

"Yeah, everything's cool..."

He moved slowly to the fridge, and cracked it open slightly. Now would by the final test...

"You thirsty?"

He'd throw the guy a blood pack if he said yes, and if he asked what it was for, he'd blow the top half of his head off. If he accepted, Vendetta would be more than happy to let the crazy bastard in on their little scheme...

"Nice to meet you, Whisper. I am Aeschia. I have not met this man before." Aeschia said. "I apologize. I am not from this area, and was just at a function that was actually full of those such as us. I also was unaware that there were an excess of hunters around." She said quietly to Whisper.

"Regarding your dress, interesting, I am from Italy. I am from Venice actually. We do not worry about the things you mentioned over there, so this is a little new to me. At least I never had to worry." Aeschia said.

"I will remember to be more careful." Aeschia smiled at the man further down the bar who had yet to introduce himself. "And who might you be, sir?" She asked the distinguished looking man.

When Aeschia took a look around the establishment, she noticed the men staring at her and Whisper.

I suppose Whisper is used to it as well. She mused.

When Whisper's phone rang, it certainly sounded as if she had some idea of what was going on around with her. Such luck running into the two of them. Aeschia had the impression that the man was also looking for information.

Aeschia waited for Whisper to end her phone call to see what was going on. She sipped her Brut and felt around for other kindred or hunters. She was going to make sure she was aware of hunters now.

Tark didn't like the way Whisper had said that kindred weren't welcomed here yet and then added an ominous sounding 'yet.' It became all too clear to the Count that this woman, who he had been lucky enough to sit down next to, was involved in some, if not all, of the previous events that night.

"You can call me Vincent..." he responded carefully. "Perhaps we should talk somewhere else... more private..."

"Does that include me as well, Vincent?" Aeschia asked.

Voices nodded at the question of thirst, he hadn't drained anyone tonight and was certainly starting to feel the hunger. Catching the bag, Voices quickly examined it, sniffing it slightly as if he could tell everything about it simply by the odour.

It could be a trap...

Shaking his head, Voices grinned in thanks, displaying his fangs as he bit into the bag and quickly drained it, his hunger evident by how fast he consumed the blood.

"Thanks... a little cold for my tastes but still good."

Well, it is obvious she knows what is going on. I want to hear about it. Kindred not being welcome here? Being from Italy, that was quite strange to Aeschia.

"Does that include me as well, Vincent?" Aeschia asked.

"You are welcome to come along..." Tark replied quietly, knowing that she too was a vampire. He didn't notice any around, but he was always on the lookout for hunters... especially when out of the country.

"Thank you Vincent. I appreciate it." Aeschia wanted as much info as she could get, and she knew Whisper had it.

"Thank you Tark. I appreciate it." Aeschia wanted as much info as she could get, and she knew Whisper had it.

[ooc: Name's vincent.]

ooc: Please excuse me... my meds are affecting this stuff a bit. Thank you for reminding me. If I post any errors that you see, please let me know.:)

Whisper reguared her two new friends with a forced smile, sliding a C-note to the bartender to cover their drinks...

"I have some business I need to attend to. Would either of you like to join me?"

It didn't really matter to her one way or the other if they decided to come along, her E-Class Mercedes-Benz had enough room for all of them...

Vendetta's hand loosened around the grip of his pistol...

"Good, now I don't have to cap you..."

He seated himself at the kitchen table with a similar packet of blood for himself, which he drained in a few quick slurps...

"Much better... That blue shit really takes the edge off..."

Healthy blood was like a fine wine, or an excellently aged whiskey in Vendetta's particular range of taste...

"My boss is on her way over, I'll explain everything then..."

Vendetta hypothesized that this individual knew about him stealing the body from the morgue, then the idea hit him like a large-caliber bullet. That burn from that fucking rubber ball...

"Say, you have any expeirence with explosives?"

Voices seemed quite pleased with himself when Vandetta informed him he wouldn't have to shoot him. So much for a trap. This new character was rather interesting and he wouldn't let the stupid words of the voices get in his way this time.

"Right."

A boss... this was interesting. Voices had figured the man before him had taken the dead girl for his own reasons, whatever they may be. Yet now things were beginning to make more sense, they were working for someone... as assassins?

The Malkavian vampire couldn't help but grin at the mention of explosives. Out of all the pranks he pulled, very few didn't have some form of explosives.

"I know a bit of this and that... enough to get the job done."

Any oppurtunity to blow something up immediately had Voices interested.

"Sure Whisper. I have nothing better to do." Aeschia replied. She was suspicious of this woman and wanted to know more.

Aeschia waited, but Whisper did not leave. "Would you like a drink Whisper? If we are going to stay a while?" She asked.

ooc: Has this RP been abandoned?

OOC: It's probably just paced slower than you're used to. I'm fairly busy with this inconvenience known as life, but it does beat the alternative...

IC:

Whisper chuckled softly at the mention of a drink...

"Only if you're driving, but then you wouldn't know where to go, would you?"

Her eyes maintained contact as she turned to leave, motioning for the others to follow. The female kindred exited the nightclub in much the same fashion she'd entered, with that ethereal floating walk of hers, quite a feat in stiletto heels.

The E-Class was parked across the street, and colored, not surprisingly, black. Either Whisper favored uniformity or had a flair for the mello-dramatic...

Maybe a little of both...

The vehicle chirped as her thumb depressed the keyless entry button, prompting a driver-side door to pop open, needing only for her to swing it wide and seat herself within. Whisper paused for a moment before starting the engine...

"Everyone comfortable? Seatbelts?"

Safety devices were practically useless to a vampire, but they did make walking away from a crash a whole lot easier to explain than simply crawling out from under a twisted mass of burning metal without a scratch...

Vendetta released one of his rare smiles...

'This guy should be a nice alternative to Anarchy's impulsive ass... Provided he doesn't lose it in the middle of an op and frag himself with whatever exploding toy he's playing with at the moment..."

He might as well introduce himself...

"Name's Vendetta by the way. My boss might have a use for you, other than making life Hell for the evening commuters..."

Aeschia followed Whisper, and thought to herself, Have you not heard of directions? in reply to her comment.

They walked out to the car. It was an OK Mercedes, but not nearly as nice as Aeschia's cars... at least in her opinion. Nothing beat her Lambo.

"So where are we off to, and what business?" Aeschia asked, trying to break the silence, and wondering if it would be boring.

She was also intrigued by the way Whisper used her words. It sounded to Aeschia that she was anti-government. Likely involved in the attempted assassinations of the political figures.

Whisper cranked the engine, prompting a nice roar from under the hood...

"It'll become a bit more clear when we arrive, then I'll explain everything..."

The car exited the parking lot smoothly, accelerating to a decent sixty-five to make its way through the nearly empty streets, running red lights at will. For such a reserved individual, Whisper drove like a stunt-man. Within fifteen minutes, they had exited the background glowing haze of the city and entered the country-side suburbs. Another five minutes and they had arrived at a small house...

Vendetta. Voices liked that name, it started with a V like his, and the meaning was interesting. It sounded like an assassin's name, something appropriate for a hired killer.

The young vampire couldn't help but grin as he contemplated where this was going. Vendetta was asking about explosives and mentioned his boss could have a use for him, implying that he would get to blow something up.

"Most people call me Voices... and to what ends would I be... useful?"

As they walked to Whisper's car in the parking lot, Tark remained quite, thinking what this vampire was up to. It had been a hectic night thus far, and the lord only knew what the future would bring.

Tark slipped into the back seat, directly behind Whisper, as he allowed the other female vampire to take the passenger seat in the front. He rarely wore a seatbelt, but at the lady vampire's question, he immediately belted up and smiled.


"Where are we and what are we doing here?" Tark asked about twenty minutes later when the car finally came to a stop outside a small unfamiliar house.

"I was about to ask the same question." Aeschia added.

This other vampire was suspicious to Aeschia, however, perhaps what Whisper revealed would be something positive.

Vendetta shot him a rather confused glance...

"What the fuck do you think? Blowing shit up..."

The flash of headlights alerted him to someone's arrival...

"I think that's her now..."

Whisper turned the vehicle off, gliding out of it with her ethereal grace...

"You'll be meeting one of my operatives in this area, actually he's the only remaining one if his information is correct..."

Whisper didn't even bother to knock, she simply walked right in. There were two vampires in the room, one a powerfully-built male with extensive tattoo work and a black bandanna on his head, the other somewhat different, oddly twitchy...

"Detta, who is this?"

Vendetta's eyes left Voices for a moment, focusing on his employer...

"This, O' Queen Bitch of the Universe, is someone who might be of some use to you, and has a talent for the explosive arts. That bull-dyke crazy-assed Gangrel in the fridge has no such talents. With enough explosives, this guy and myself should be able to level major infastructure in a few days..."

Detta dropped in a dramatic pause for effect...

"His name is voices, by the way..."

Whisper turned to her new companions, gesturing towards Vendetta...

"This is Vendetta, my operative in this city. As you two are probably wondering, we're trying to overthrow the current government covertly and establish a pro-vampire government for our own uses. Technically, we're on a mission from some higher power, but I've changed the objectives to suit the interests of ourselves, that being myself, Vendetta, and his partner Anarchy, who's apparently stuffed in the fridge..."

The oddness of what she'd just said hit her like a bullet between the eyes...

"The fridge?! Detta, why is your partner in the fridge?!"

Vendetta's response was cold as Death's touch...

"Cuz I blew her brains out after she gutted half the secret service guarding a senator. She's out cold, and in need of something a bit more potent than my blood to revive her..."

Voices nodded, a slight grin passing over his face. It was confirmed, he would be exploding things.

"Goodo."

With the headlights catching Vendetta's attention, Voices stood and turned towards the door.

"Should be interesting then. She will have details?"

Tark entered a moment after Whisper and stood just right of the doorway, behind her. Except for a nod of a greeting, he remained very quiet and still... he sensed there were big things going on...

Aeschia was right... it was Whisper and friends responsible for the assassinations, and attempts today. Voices must have been the Malkavian playing his version of pinball... the explosive kind.

She found over time that, if nothing else, Malkavians were entertaining.

Aeschia spoke to Whisper: "I understand the 'throw over the government' part," she continued, "however, who is this 'higher power', and what are the new personal objectives for you, Vendetta, and the one in the fridge, whom I assume will not be a lot of use at this point?" Aeschia inquired.

Aeschia and Vincent were not introduced to Vendetta. They knew the nameof Vendetta and Voices, however, he was never told Aeschia and Vincent's names.

"In other words, what are your objectives?" Aeschia asked.

She grinned at Voices, "I assume they are more than flaming bowling, or pinball, or whatever you were playing." She was not happy with what he had done, but staying on their good sides for now and getting information would be a good idea.

Aeschia had near first brood blood from Marius, however she would not reveal this unless their agenda, and reviving the woman in the fridge, were both good for the vampire community, without destroying the mortal community.

Aeschia stood waiting for information.

Whisper reguarded Aeschia coldly when asked about their plans...

"It's fairly simple. We work for a group called the 'Camarilla', a hierarchy of vampire ancients with nothing better to do than order their minions about on menial tasks. Their opposites, the 'Anarchs', seek complete independence from the Camarilla, and each other for that matter. In that respect, they cannot stand against a combined human assault, should they ever learn of our exsistance. We, as in Vendetta and myself, seek to establish a so-called 'Free Zone' where neither of those political extremes have influence..."

Here she paused to let the information register with their guests...

"Faust Requium is a perfect place to do this. Having been sent in by the Camarilla to take control behind the scenes, I plan to have the new nation secede all together from their extremist views and methods, and establish a place where the political moderates can come together and be free of the internal power struggles that plague both Anarch and Camarilla policy. As for Anarchy, I don't really know where she stands. If Vendetta's story is true, she's extremely reckless and cannot be trusted..."

Whisper threw a sideways glance at her agent, watching Vendetta toy with the grip of one of his 10mm automatics...

"As for the flaming super-balls, I have no idea. Such a useless distraction does not further my agenda, nor serve any real purpose other than to annoy the populace..."

The grunt of Vendetta clearing his throat behind her prompted Whisper to turn around...

"What?"

Vendetta's facial expression betrayed the fact that he had something to say...

"This fella, 'Voices', pulled the super-ball stunt. That makes him pretty handy with explosives, both in their aquisition and their use. There's only so much I can get from disgruntled National Guard supply sergeants and police quartermasters pissed about pay-cuts. Explosives ain't one of 'em. I figured he'd come in handy next time we need to blow something up..."

His point made, the vampire operative gestured towards Whisper's new friends...

"Now who the fuck are these people?"

Aeschia looked at Whisper... "And who runs this "free zone" and how is it run? By election, or just by most powerful? How do you get rid of the bureaucracy? What type of government exactly will this be, parliament, separate houses? These are things I am interested in.

"Politics does not usually intereste me too much, but when you are talking about backstabbing your backers, are you not in danger? I am visiting for now, however was considering on staying. What of the mortals? Also, I am all for a government with less bickering and more democracy... is this what you are suggesting? Or is it a Kingdom or something of the like?

"I know these are a lot of questions, but why not get them out of the way?"

Aeschia smiled at Whisper in an obviously cocky and phony way.

"I just like to know what is going on around me. After all, if what you speak of appeals to me, I may be of some help to you."

This time she looked at all of them seriously.

Tark, was doing the more appropriate thing, and just listening, however Aeschia was not that type. She wanted everything on the table, and fuck whoever was offended... especially Whisper, whom she did not trust.

Whisper's shapely lips contorted into a from, delivered with a glare, at Vendetta's choice of words...

"These people are obviously your social betters, and should be treated as such!"

Her tone was edged like a razor, cutting into Vendetta's patience like soft flesh...

"They've demonstrated interest in assisting with our plans, and I would appreciate you not offending them..."

Whisper's tone had settled a bit, but the fire in her eyes hadn't subsided. She was in charge of this operation, and Vendetta had better quit questioning her every move...

'God-damned Brujah...'

She turned back towards her guests, conversing with them in hushed tones...

"I apologise for his roughness, he's simply paranoid. I fear the loss of his sire and his expeirences in Vietnam have done something to his trust of strangers..."

She continued...

"I'm offering the two of you leadership positions in the secret government we're attempting to establish, provided you assist in setting it up. Being that we just met, I have no idea what your individual talents are, so we might as well get to know each other a bit.

Myself, I was raised around wealth, and came away from my parent's deaths with more money than I knew what to do with. I got involved in organized crime after my turning, and learned a bit about guns and management in the process. This expeirence transferred over well, along with my attention to detail, as an operations officer for the Camarilla's militant arm.

As for Vendetta, he served as a Green Beret in Vietnam before he was turned, and has performed admirably under my service since his enlistment into the Camarilla some forty years ago..."

She gestured to Aeschia..

"Now, what about you?"

Aeschia looked at Whisper.

"For the moment, I would like to hear more about the plans before I reveal my life story, however, I can tell you I am an expert assassin, as well as have spent my life as a noble and also have money to burn." She continued...

"I was turned quite a few years ago by my ex-husband." Aeschia added.

"For now, that is really all that is important." She smiled.

Whisper nodded...

"Very well. We're simply going to kill off the senators, infiltrate the Capitol Building, and either turn the president or force-feed him vampire blood to make him a ghoul servant. After that, he's at our disposal to carry out our whims..."

"Whose whims, and what whims?" Aeschia asked pointedly.

Voices remained silentl, merely smiling to himself as those around him mentioned the flaming balls, his work. It was always nice to be noticed by others, especially other vampires. It didn't matter if they were irritated by it or not, Voices knew only other Malkavians would understand.

Whilst he didn't particularly care about the politics this knew woman was speaking of, there were those inside his head that took great interest in her words.

Listen carefully Alex, this is important...

The only thing that mattered to Voices was having fun, which meant blowing things up.

"So when do I get to blow up more stuff?"

Voices was ignorant of social class or appropriate behaviour, most things in life were rather simple to him.

Vendetta nodded...

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly..."

If this 'Voices' character was like this all the time, they'd get along fairly well...

Whisper repeated herself again...

"Ours, and ours alone. Those whims that best suit the vampire population this country will house in the future, whims that will provide limitless supplies of blood, concealment from hunters, and basically keep our unlives as simple as possible. While we will actually rule this nation, the presidential figure-head will pass on our wishes to the parliament and the general public, as you or myself would certainly cause a bit of a stir appearing on national television announcing a mandatory blood donation law enaction. Kine react better to a well-known, friendly face, someone they put into office and not some usurper..."

She hoped she wouldn't have to continually explain this to her possible ally, if indeed she remained such...

Tark stood quietly, listening to everything that was being said. Manipulating a foreign government could provide interesting and at the very least entertain him for a little while. Why not? he figured. He had come to Faust Requium on a little quest, but that had turned up empty... quickly, and now he was looking for something to do.

"My life story is a long and adventure filled one. However, there is not enough time to tell it all during this first meeting," Tark explained as he rested his weight against a wall. "My skills... my skills are not quite in the same class as yours appear to be," he said, making a general statement from what he had heard and seen recently. I am not a fighter per se, but I can certainly hold my own with a blade." He twirled his cane gently in his right hand - a deadly blade hidden within. "I am a thinker..."

Does 'ours' mean 'hers'? This was the question Aeschia had. It made her uncomfortable. The word 'dictator' kept running through her mind.

"How exactly will those under the puppet government be structured, and chosen?" Aeschia asked. "I am interested in the process which determines who will actually weild the power. Us is quite cryptic. There must be some sort of system. I would like to hear about the structure of the system, and how it will be implimented.

"Then there are financial issues. Just running a huge blood bank costs money. Where is this money coming from? Tax the people too much, and they leave.

"I am interested in the practical issues and how they will be dealt with. We already know the ideology." Aeschia smiled... a creepy politician's smile... some might call it a 'crocodile smile'.

"You could integrate the bloodbank with the hospitals and healthcare services - take large doses of blood from the patients," Tark proposed. It wouldn't be as odd for the people to be giving so much blood if they were doing it at hospitals and for their health. "Or you could allow one of the projects/sectors that the government is funding to be privatized and use the portion of the budget it had been taking up to fund the new 'Clean Blood Initiative'," Tark stated.

"Or you could simply lie to the people... Publish new reports from top doctors and scientists stating that draining a large portion of one's blood is healthy, lowers one's risk of getting sick, and extends life expectancy. Then people will be lining up to donate blood... and you could even force them to pay to do it," he mused.

Aeschia listened to Tark's ideas, however, some of them were obvious enough that if one person found out, there would be war.

Aeschia, her arms crossed looking down at the floor, legs crossed leaning against the wall, creating a very curvy sillouhette, after listening, looked up. "Tark, how do we explain to well trained nurses and doctors who get worldwide studies on these issues, that they need to draw extra blood? It will not be as easy as you think. Forcing anyone to do anything could bring the UN down on us. Everything must appear as if it is running smoothly and nothing different or strange to mortals is happening. That goes for every part of the government and infrastructure."

No one explained up to this point how the ruling sector would be chosen/elected (not likely) or what. Which clans of vampires will be forced to the bottom of the ladder... So far, it sounded to Aeschia that a dictatorship was being proposed, but she was willing to listen... just waiting for answers. She wanted to know exactly how the political heirarchy would be determined. (Aeschia kept her mind blocked as she thought these things.)

As far as she knew, it would be a great system, but she had her doubts. Her sire did not raise her to take severe advantage of mortals. Like him, she lived among them, and enjoyed it.

"Well, it isn't technically wrong," Tark replied to Aeschia's comment about convincing people of the 'Clean Blood Initiative.' "It actually can be healthy to remove small parts of your blood so that the body regenerates it and new cells are created."

"There is one other drastic option... but I would rather not have to use that one," he said ominously, thinking back to a vile idea he had seen once.


((ooc: Does the UN exist here?))

ooc: I was assuming so, or at least some sort of entity like it.

Whisper began to like Tark the more he spoke. He seemed to be quite the idea man...

"While such an initiative would be a great option, simply passing a law that mandatory donations must be given every six months or so, under the pretense of keeping the national blood bank supplies at their peak, might be a bit less tricky... And as for combat, that's why I've brought Mr. Detta along..."

She again returned her rock-hard gaze to Aeschia...

"Faust Requium's current constitution states that a man, or woman, may remain president as long as he is elected every four years. This works in our favor, as we can rig elections fairly easily. Once we make the president a ghoul, by his own will or otherwise, he'll be at our command, as Kindred blood is highly addictive to the Kine. He'll do whatever we tell him so long as we give him his monthly dose. It will be needed, however, to eventually cut him off, as the image of the president never aging would draw some attention.

To answer your question of 'who', that should be fairly obvious. The three of us are world-wise, intelligent, and highly capable people, and should be more than able to run a government behind the scenes, as most of the red tape will be taken care of for us by the presidential staff. If you control the top the pyramid, everything else falls into place quite nicely, which is why this nation was chosen for such a takeover. If we install ourselves as the government, instead of my 'overlings', the hunters and traitors that have infiltrated their organization will eventually take care of that problem for us.

We simply confer and vote on important issues, as there are only three of us there will be no tie votes. Each has equal authority. Vendetta, and Anarchy if we can revive her, along with our new agent Voices, will be at our command for sensetive issues, as will the national army and police forces, which we can use to weed out suspected hunters and enemy agents. Any other vampires seeking to reside here will be more than welcome to, so long as they register themselves with our agents, so that we may keep track of them, for their safety and ours. Should one disappear, it may be a sign of a hunter infiltration, and would need to be dealt with. You will, of course, be welcome to sire any new initiate you wish, insofar as a two-thirds vote can be achieved. Ghouls don't need such an approval, and you can cultivate as many as you need..."

The stoney gaze drifted between the gathered parties...

"Any further questions?"

Tark was quite impressed by her little speech. "It seems you have put ample thought into this plan, and it sounds like a good one to me. Of course we might need a couple more skilled agents in the future should our area of control enlarge, but for now the setup sounds fine to me."

"So I guess the only thing left to do is to get close to the president and turn him..."

Aeschia did not like the way Whisper seemed to be unable to take questions or criticism.

"Personally, it does sound like a pretty good plan." Aeschia paused and looked nonchallantly at Whisper.

"My only issue is that, if someone, namely myself here, tonight, asks any questions or wants to know how things will be set up, they get the evil eye."

Aeschia sighed. "I would hate to think that anyone who asks questions and is interested in the workings and details of the puppet government and what runs it, will be considered an enemy, just for asking.

"From what you have said so far regarding your plans, they sound well thought out.

"However, I do not appreciate being glared at for asking questions. Why is it that if someone wants to know more, they are looked at as an enemy?

"I am not your enemy, yet you look at me with such vitriol because I want to know more. Why is that?" Aeschia asked. "Does everyone have to agree blindly or suffer your wrath? Your behavior has suggested this.

"A good leader welcomes questions and is happy to give explanations. I would like an explanation for your welcoming looks to Vincent, who asks no questions, and you glaring at me because I like to have lots of information."

She wanted a good explanation. Aeschia thought this was a great idea, however, if someone did not agree with Whisper, they were the enemy. Not a good sign in a leader.

"Or to simplify everything I have said: What the fuck is the problem? I have been a politician enough in my lifetime that I find it important to know details."