The After Party (Event Continued...)
Rupert directed the rest of the staff around the lower patio, arranging various vintages and glasses on crisp white table clothes with red trim. He had brought out what his son would likely call 'the good stuff' and his oh so charming ex wife would call the 'ninety dollar ass kissing', this being a special occasion, and idly examined a slightly tinted glass for spots while the patio was set.
The ceremony should be over soon and the Anantya would begin filtering in, barring any misfortunes, the nature of which Rupert did not care to contemplate. He wondered vaguely just how rowdy of a crowd they were going to have, especially considering certain new arrivals, and mentally planned ways of getting the fine glassware rotated out and the newer, less valuable glasses in their stead as the group's intoxication increased.
With such small arrangements floating through the back of his mind, he looked to the Cathedral, watching expectantly for people to begin making their way up the hill.
His wildcat would be fine. She was competant and capable so he had nothing to fear. Unfortunately the thought of her alone in the dark dank place with naught but Unspeakables watching her made him distressed.
Somewhere along the way his hood fell back and his hair fell into his eyes. Brushing it back, he realized he was still wearing the robe. Unsure of the protocal since he had not attended an initiation in centuries, he left it on. It billowed in his wake as he paced back and forth.
“What now?”
He figured if Thaddeus just wanted to retire to his rooms, as his blonde friend would say, he could take the opportunity to ask around, but he didn’t want to suggest it. Sometimes, he reflected, he really wished he knew the nightsman better; there was something in his bearing that he couldn’t place, and didn’t know whether it was the ceremony or other recent events that had left his friend disquieted.
It didn’t seem wise to push the issue.
On the other hand, Thaddeus seemed to be in a world of his own, not answering his question at all but looking back at the Cathedral with a distant expression he didn’t much care for, so in spite of not wanting to grate the nightsman’s nerves, he tried again. Waving his hand in front of Thaddeus’s face, he spoke lightly.
“Earth to Thaddeus Grey!”
Not thinking of his hair – some might say that was a first!
He was instead thinking back on the ceremony…among other things. The initiation…putting his blood in the cup, watching the others spill their blood as well. There was something, now that he was out in the open air, that was unsettling about that, and he supposed it was the idea that some faceless traitor had mingled blood with his own tonight. He had the fleeting thought that he did not envy Fallon that draught; that the blood would be just a little too sweet, a sickly sort of sweet, but of course that was ridiculous.
And then there were the dreams. Starting with the blood welling up from just a few feet away, through a wound in the ground that now looked nothing like the work of a misplaced pew, but an impossibly tall sword.
The dreams seemed to ask the same question Palmer was distantly asking now; what now? Time seemed to be a central focus in these dreams and that frustrated him to some degree, knowing just how mindful he was of impending…
He pulled back with a snap as Palmer’s hand waved in front of his face, annoyed that he had drifted so far off course. Crazy Thaddeus Grey, next thing you knew he would be wandering around muttering to himself with his underwear on outside of his clothes. He shook his head to clear that thought and turned to Palmer, not sure what his friend wanted but able to venture a reasonable guess.
“Yes, sure, let’s go.”
With that, he headed up the hill, intent on the quiet upper deck.
Some were, after all, a little touchy about open flames. He supposed he might be too, at that, and in any case it would be nice if a pack of rowdy drunk vampires –didn’t- burn down their own manor.
Putting his own sense of irony back in its place, he walked back down the stairs and found he was pleased to see Cyrus had arrived, returning his bow respectfully and remembering someone telling him that westerners bowing was rather like a watching a pig attempt ballet. He thought he did a fair enough job of it though, and gave some final instructions to one of the maids before heading toward the now pacing form, one arm slightly outstretched.
“May I take your robe?”
/ooc feel free to assume that offer is extended to everyone
"Thank you Rupert. It looks nice out here, thanks for your hard work in making this occasion special."
The man was so very competent and through, that it made Cyrus wonder how to get someone just as good for his new house once it was finished. Somehow a house of two vampires and one familiar seemed beneath Rupert, but perhaps the man knew of other butlers looking for work. Of course that was a conversation for another time and with a brisk head nod he resumed his pacing. Unconsciously his hands flexed into claws and relaxed repeatedly behind his back.
Doffing her black robe and handing it with a word of thanks to Rupert she smoothed her burgundy and gold houppelande and made her way to the patio. Ysabel was hardly a wallflower by any stretch of the imagination, but she wanted the chance to observe for the moment, still feeling somewhat contemplative. People were heading their way; some turned off to head directly back into the Manor, but she suspected most of them would find their way outside eventually.
She quietly took a seat and prepared to be a casual onlooker for the next few moments.
Nice enough night, yeah, but I think th'ol nipples might git a bit perked. I kin ya wanna see'um again, dirty man, but kinda public. Knew the staid exterior hid somethin' more crazy. But maybe later 'pendin' how much I drink, wha?
Grabbing the closest full glass to her, she headed back toward the manor to change out of her robe. The cold didn't bother her much, but Nachton was a hell of a lot colder than LA, so she wasn't gonna start the evening naked.
((Dawn out temporarily))
When he finally came out, Palmer was gone. Thaddeus gave a little shrug, thinking that, after all, he hadn’t asked his friend to wait for him and the southerner probably wanted to get out and be social without a blonde tag along. The thought was without rancor, though he was a little mystified as to how it seemed when he and Palmer got together, he always felt a little eclipsed even when he was doing all the talking.
With another dismissive shrug, he pulled on his gloves and headed out to join the party, going up a flight of stairs to step out on the upper patio instead of the lower. Perhaps up here he could sort out his strange mood without having to subject anyone else to it.
/ooc Thaddeus out to brew in his own angst!
He should know. He’d shared a hotel room with the guy for about six hours before they both had enough.
Resisting the urge to rearrange Thaddeus’s assortment of bathroom products, he pulled off the robe, draping it over the hamper, and washed his hands while reading the list of ingredients in the liquid soap before exiting.
Thaddeus, meanwhile, still seemed to be on some distant planet, and Palmer frowned at the closing door. He was beginning to suspect the nightsman was annoyed with him for some private and probably ridiculous reason, though this thought was quickly drowned out. The little things were just Thaddeus’s way of dealing with larger stress. Even if his friend –was- annoyed with him, it was nothing personal.
Thoughts of larger issues, though, reminded Palmer that he had intended to give the nightsman the slip and poke around. Now seemed as good a time as any; there was no reason to appear attached to the blonde’s hip, after all. In fact, that might look odd. And Thaddeus would likely expect him to be on his way, if he was in a frame of mind to notice at all.
With such thoughts in mind, he put his shoes back on and slipped out the door.
Walking past the pool, she grabbed her robe. As she approached Rupert again, she grinned wickedly. Offering her robe to him, she said
I'as naked up under that robe, know. Iffin you gonna smell it or rub it on ya face or what, make sure y'don't git caught. Someone might think that's kinda creepin', playa.
Glancing between the people already milling about, she noted two potential conversationalists. One was a young-looking lady who kinda looked doll-like, which was neat...but seemed pretty prim and proper. Might be boring. The other was a built Asian man...looked northern, maybe Manchu or Mongol, who had GOLD EYES. Wicked. He was pacing, so he probably had more interesting things to talk about than doll-lady. Watching a moment, she walked over.
Bowing slightly in her fashion, she smiled, then extended her hand to the...nervous...man.
I'm Dawn - I dun think we met yet. Doin' ok there?
Wondering how he'd respond, she waited, wishing she'd planned ahead and grabbed something more to drink in case he started rambling. Ah well. Plenty of time to get smashed later. Besides, it might not do to get all sloppy before chica made it through the maze or whatever they had here.
Her quirky language threw him for a moment, as he mentally tried to add all the letters she had left out to make sense of just what she said.
"Pleased to meet you Dawn. Cyrus, member of the Hunt."
Looking back at the Cathedral as he returned his hands behind his back, alternating between clenching his fists and stretching his hands into claws, arms crossed at the wrists. Supposing he should answer her last question he returned his gaze to the blue haired girl.
"As Fallon's sponsor I am concerned for her welfare in the catacombs." He was not going to divulge their relationship with anyone randomly until she returned. Once she was safely in his arms he did not care who knew that they were more than fledgeling and sponsor.
"Have you been at Heolfor long?" Unaware his head tilted slightly, inquiringly as he asked the question.
Oh! That'd explain, f'sure! Iffin' she'sa Huntress, though, she'll be fine, sure. Prolly exploring 'er surroundins an memming th'details...after all, isn't every day ya get t'walk underbelly of a place like this! Oh, an I'm not Hunt yet, but feel the call. Elder Mai wants me t'look inta th'other orders t'be sure, so I keep my trainin' up, but try to study too. Don't do well t'not listen to Elder's wisdom...I just hope I'm smart nuff t'figure it all soon. Oh, an no, not long...bout th'time th'snow start meltin. We don't get much of that in SoCal...so nice t'get th'end a it, but glad warm is comin'.
Kicking herself internally, she realized that in her excitement she wasn't speaking as clearly as she'd intended. Hopefully he could follow along ok.
Before heading back to the balcony party, he turned and picked up the lyre and tucked it under one arm. He felt as though he might be in an entertaining mood but of course that was subject to change at whim. It was best to be prepared at any rate. Besides if there were requests for him to play then he would not have to go back and get it. Requests for his music always seemed to alter his mood towards being more willing to comply.
Reaching the patio, he saw Cyrus pacing like... a cat in a cage. Honestly what was the worry? It wasn't like she was going to harm herself down there. In the old days they might have left someone to wander for days if it took them that long but he suspected that the young clan members would push for someone to go find their clueless directionally challenged new Anantya. While he found the girl somewhat uninspiring, very school marmish, she did not about to be stupid. So there was very little to be concerned over. A woman he had not seen before had interrupted the cat's walk which was a good turn of events. Another interesting face was helpful for helping you forget about one that is bothering you.
He handed the intrument in his hands over to Rupert to put some place safe until he required it and then quickly found himself a glass of red wine.
He was pretty sure she said that she was not hunt but learning from Elder Mai, which seemed wise on t he surface but he hoped his elder had a better time understanding her. Now he wondered what continent Socal was on. Deciding to stick with what he could understand his comment was brief.
"Elder Mai is very wise and skilled. You should listen to her."
Yes. Elder Mai is very wise. I try to listen to her teachings as much as possible, though I find some t'be diffclt...to be difficult for me. Patience has been the hardest, I think. But I am learning that sometimes slowing down is more useful in th'long...the long run.
Feeling a bit like sap becoming amber, Dawn tried to continue at what seemed to her to be a glacial pace.
Were you her student too, before becoming a Huntsman?
Looking over the new arrivals, one had arrived with a musical instrument...one of the old kinds that they learned about in one of her history classes. Like a liar, or something. No...lira. No...that was money. Lyre. There it is. Musicians were usually interesting - maybe she'd talk to him when Cyrus stopped being interesting or got too antsy to be sociable...he didn't seem like the talkative type.
He was happy she could lapse out of what appeared to be her native language or whatever she normally conversed with others with. Wondering what asian languages he could possibly find more to her liking he decided to find out more about this Socal and where she came from.
"So where is Socal? Is the language there much different?" He could try his native tongue, or japanese or chinese in various dialects and classes. Somehow he did not think she would appreciate sanskrit but that bias was strictly coming from her blue hair. Being a slight rebel in his human years he knew that one small rebellion at the wrong time could last for eternity.
"How long have you been Anantya? If you dont mind me asking."
The language there is much different from here, probably due to the large mixing of culture that occurs. It is just an abbreviation, though - Southern California. I guess the term came to use during one of the many debates on whether to split Cali into two states to...um...oh yeah, limit its growing political power. That never happened, so most folk not from there might've missed the word, but Socal and Norcal still get slung about some out there.
Oh...naw, I don't mind. Been Anantya since my change in '92. My 14th whateveryacallit day is this month, but it'll be the first time I've had one outside of LA.
Hhaving mastered the art of listening without listening long ago, she scanned the patio and noted the faces as they arrived, keeping a sharp ear trained to the conversation between the two.
"Since I have spent the last hundred years in China, I fear I am completely unaware of this politics. Thank you for the information." Figuring polite was the best way to respond, his gaze strayed to the Cathedral before coming back to his young clan mate. Of course Fallon was young in vampire years, but she had a lot more maturity than this girl.
"Ah, fourteen year anniversary. I fear that once you reach a century you may find yourself only celebrating that." Deciding not to mention having celebrated a millennia not too far in the past he simply nodded his head once, politely. Of course his customs were probably as strange to her as hers were to him. His gaze once more straying, in hopes of seeing his kitten emerge. Since there was no sign yet he returned his attention to Dawn.
"Are the Anantya in California more relaxed than here? I had always felt that this being the headquarters for so long they retained more of the history and ceremony here than in other locations."
Walking around the manor, through an opening in a hedge, and around a wall, then through a gateway, Fallon could see the Cathedral off in the distance. Looking in the opposite direction Fallon stilled herself before shouting out. In her view were many of her new family, and smiling broadly she saw Cyrus over near the pool, talking to a young girl. Not allowing herself time to take in anything else, Fallon saw an opportunity, and grinned as she took it.
Walking a little farther around to the other side of the pool, Fallon skirted the majority of her brothers and sisters, and worked it so she was coming up from behind Cyrus. She caught the eye of a few people, and the girl he was talking to was one, but she pressed a finger to her mouth, hoping they would all play along. As she stealthily walked behind him, Fallon had a sudden fear that he might not wish to participate in public displays of affection, and her plan almost halted right then and there. But after only a couple seconds of indecision, she pressed on, and when she was directly behind him, she put a hand on his back tenderly, and leaned towards his ear.
"Miss me?"