Jack:
Uh. Satire? Jack catches a chuckle in his teeth, turning it into a low snort, and as the clamor arises around the Tremere announcement, he looks for Kali again in the crowd, but says musingly to his clan-brother and the other piano-lover: "Ex-Sabbat, huh? Oh ho, so Denver is to be a work-release program."
Exit Oliviero. Jack's farewell is respectful, of course, because Jack is a courteous creature in Elysium (and elsewhere, too, let's not lie: he's polite, our Jacky boy). He says good evening like his mother taught him and he says that it's a pity eyes and ears don't get to take the voice out for a spin more often because the hand and the heart are greedy bastards, and he sounds like he's joking, politely!, like his mother taught him. He watches Oliviero go: just catches Mercy and the Sheriff, though that's not what keeps his interest oh no, oh no no, though it's more of once upon a time, more echoes of things going on (he thinks, he believes, with a mystic's surety), but it's Narcisa and Oliviero that makes him speculate. Still, he turns his attention back to the presentations.
The Nosferatu don't need to claim Domain. You know where their Domain is. Their Domain is underneath. Did you think that your Domain went deep? That those blocks and buildings weren't just scum floating on the surface of the Underground Kingdom, shadow and metal and stone? Darkness and rot and lost things unfound? Wet and rust and airless deeps? Secrets and shit and everything old? Maybe they fight amongst themselves for this stretch or that stretch. This is Denver, and the Nosferatu go above the surface as often as not: right? You just don't see them, lurking outside viaducts, hovering on the edges where nobody else wants to be, cropping up where everybody does. So Jack. Jack doesn't and doesn't mean to claim Domain. He stays just within the boundaries of etiquette.
Until, at least, something occurs to him, and he steps forward to make his bows. He introduces himself. Jack. His sire's name (Lily). All to the point. He makes the appropriate noise about the Sabbat being bad. He sounds very grave.
But then: "Should any wish to contact me who do not already know how, there is a 24-hour donut shop on [street] and [street], and whoever is working there Tuesday or Friday nights will take messages for 'Jack.' There is no need to deface public property."
That's all. He retreats.
Lux
Everett is one of the first to speak. Lux does not follow him in order to declare her alliances.
Not until the end, or near the end.
Let the Anarchs be Book Ends.
Lux hadn't much cared for the 99 Cent II Diptychon hanging on the back wall. But now, as Lady Adelaide speaks, she finds that it is haunting her awareness, those flattened and over-saturated colours, the forced perspective and the forced vibrance, the cheapness of what is actually depicted, 99 cent, 99 cent and everything in its place versus the silver-haired representative of the Inner Circle and the Ivory Tower + blue-blooded court. Appreciative Lux.
Interested, too. Interested in who comes forward and why they say they do. Court is for Toreador, and Lux looks like the perfect Toreador. The Tremere get a reaction from her. They officially claim their domain, and Lux leans in to say something in Everett's ear, though perhaps she is just guaging his reaction to learning that the Tremere are ex-Sabbat. Lux accepts the news of past allegiance without adding to the clamor and din. Easy target. Or perhaps she is just more liberal with her acceptance of creatures who would change their Sect allegiance.
Then: the end, or near the end. Lux steps forward and she is still the perfect Toreador. She introduces herself first and as she speaks her voice pitched smoke-and-silk low, just for those who are immediately there, not for the crowd -- let them talk among themselves or strain or look at the painting on her arm and side and throat instead.
"Denver is a city loved. Everett Stone chooses," (hey Everett, there might be something pointed about that choice of word), "not to speak for all the Anarchs, but if he had chosen otherwise I am certain that he would have told no lie. It is preferable to dwell in the kind shadow of a fantastical and stalwart Ivory Tower than the darkness of a festering and violent pit left behind once it has been razed."
"The leadership shown by this city's Camarilla kindred since the unfortunate winter has been such a thing of inspiration."
It's not that difficult to extrapolate the Fancy Anarch's version of Rasmussen for Prince 2013 from what she's saying. Then again, her tone is inclusive: she could also be complimenting the sudden initiative and descent of many others.
She doesn't claim Domain, she just leaves her implied support at that.
[ >.>
I'm totally gonna add moreJack & Lux flavor. This is I guess a placeholder, since I am tired. And want to put on record
Tithe @ 2:15PM
[Percept + Alert!]
Roll: 7 d10 TN9 (1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 1 ) VALID
Kai Wren @ 2:15PM
I witness that roll!
boom. For Jack who is watchy watching things with watchiness and also eyes. ]
Uh. Satire? Jack catches a chuckle in his teeth, turning it into a low snort, and as the clamor arises around the Tremere announcement, he looks for Kali again in the crowd, but says musingly to his clan-brother and the other piano-lover: "Ex-Sabbat, huh? Oh ho, so Denver is to be a work-release program."
Exit Oliviero. Jack's farewell is respectful, of course, because Jack is a courteous creature in Elysium (and elsewhere, too, let's not lie: he's polite, our Jacky boy). He says good evening like his mother taught him and he says that it's a pity eyes and ears don't get to take the voice out for a spin more often because the hand and the heart are greedy bastards, and he sounds like he's joking, politely!, like his mother taught him. He watches Oliviero go: just catches Mercy and the Sheriff, though that's not what keeps his interest oh no, oh no no, though it's more of once upon a time, more echoes of things going on (he thinks, he believes, with a mystic's surety), but it's Narcisa and Oliviero that makes him speculate. Still, he turns his attention back to the presentations.
The Nosferatu don't need to claim Domain. You know where their Domain is. Their Domain is underneath. Did you think that your Domain went deep? That those blocks and buildings weren't just scum floating on the surface of the Underground Kingdom, shadow and metal and stone? Darkness and rot and lost things unfound? Wet and rust and airless deeps? Secrets and shit and everything old? Maybe they fight amongst themselves for this stretch or that stretch. This is Denver, and the Nosferatu go above the surface as often as not: right? You just don't see them, lurking outside viaducts, hovering on the edges where nobody else wants to be, cropping up where everybody does. So Jack. Jack doesn't and doesn't mean to claim Domain. He stays just within the boundaries of etiquette.
Until, at least, something occurs to him, and he steps forward to make his bows. He introduces himself. Jack. His sire's name (Lily). All to the point. He makes the appropriate noise about the Sabbat being bad. He sounds very grave.
But then: "Should any wish to contact me who do not already know how, there is a 24-hour donut shop on [street] and [street], and whoever is working there Tuesday or Friday nights will take messages for 'Jack.' There is no need to deface public property."
That's all. He retreats.
Lux
Everett is one of the first to speak. Lux does not follow him in order to declare her alliances.
Not until the end, or near the end.
Let the Anarchs be Book Ends.
Lux hadn't much cared for the 99 Cent II Diptychon hanging on the back wall. But now, as Lady Adelaide speaks, she finds that it is haunting her awareness, those flattened and over-saturated colours, the forced perspective and the forced vibrance, the cheapness of what is actually depicted, 99 cent, 99 cent and everything in its place versus the silver-haired representative of the Inner Circle and the Ivory Tower + blue-blooded court. Appreciative Lux.
Interested, too. Interested in who comes forward and why they say they do. Court is for Toreador, and Lux looks like the perfect Toreador. The Tremere get a reaction from her. They officially claim their domain, and Lux leans in to say something in Everett's ear, though perhaps she is just guaging his reaction to learning that the Tremere are ex-Sabbat. Lux accepts the news of past allegiance without adding to the clamor and din. Easy target. Or perhaps she is just more liberal with her acceptance of creatures who would change their Sect allegiance.
Then: the end, or near the end. Lux steps forward and she is still the perfect Toreador. She introduces herself first and as she speaks her voice pitched smoke-and-silk low, just for those who are immediately there, not for the crowd -- let them talk among themselves or strain or look at the painting on her arm and side and throat instead.
"Denver is a city loved. Everett Stone chooses," (hey Everett, there might be something pointed about that choice of word), "not to speak for all the Anarchs, but if he had chosen otherwise I am certain that he would have told no lie. It is preferable to dwell in the kind shadow of a fantastical and stalwart Ivory Tower than the darkness of a festering and violent pit left behind once it has been razed."
"The leadership shown by this city's Camarilla kindred since the unfortunate winter has been such a thing of inspiration."
It's not that difficult to extrapolate the Fancy Anarch's version of Rasmussen for Prince 2013 from what she's saying. Then again, her tone is inclusive: she could also be complimenting the sudden initiative and descent of many others.
She doesn't claim Domain, she just leaves her implied support at that.
[ >.>
I'm totally gonna add more
Tithe @ 2:15PM
[Percept + Alert!]
Roll: 7 d10 TN9 (1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 1 ) VALID
Kai Wren @ 2:15PM
I witness that roll!
boom. For Jack who is watchy watching things with watchiness and also eyes. ]