I rise with the new moon, half expecting to see that wretched feline my sire deigned to 'gift' me with decades ago. Her sense of humor has always been in poor taste. You see, I despise cats, I always have. Undoubtedly this was the impetus for her decision to give the infernal beast to me. I am certain it is a test of some kind.

Of course it would be uncouth of me to simply destroy it outright, one does not spit in the face of one's beneficiary, but I have made something of a game out of bringing about it's demise indirectly. Alas, it would seem that the damned thing is better at the game than I for it simply refuses to be extirpated. So I thought it would be amusing to accidentally leave the accursed thing in Miami. How uncharacteristically absent minded of me.

I descend the stairs to find that the ghouls have followed my instructions, most of the furniture is unpacked and placed, my vehicle has arrived and it would appear that they are installing the security, sound, and lighting systems along with the hidden cameras.

I will take a seat in one of the expensive lounge-chairs that look completely out of place with the industrial backdrop, and busy myself with looking over more images of this new city and it's inhabitants until Herr Van Der Weyden or his messenger arrive.

Prince Carter intends to personally answer the message. But one cannot trust a serpent, especially in its own lair...

Sending his thralls could have complications. He doesnt trust them to have the mental capacity to resist one of the followers strange charms.

Carter will put a call in to Sheriff Zaine and ask him to accompany him to the meeting. Its best the sheriff know who is who in town anwyay...

With the Sheriff unrespopnsive Carter will be paranoid and wary. The last sheriff met an untimely Death and he was a hundred times more careful than Zaine...

Carter will proceed to the meeting himself. Its a dicey move but disrespecting an obvious powerful Setite elder would be worse.

With the scourge in the area Carter will arrive at the warehouse and step out of the back of the Black SUV.

Out front are a pair of large gentlemen of the Haitian persuasion, one sporting long dreadlocks littered with bolts, nails and small animal bones, the other, a heavier set man with a bald head, sunglasses and huge chops. In truth they look to be the sort of goat-murdering, chicken-blood-drinking voodoo freaks one would expect to find in a darkened alley of New Orleans.

Both men bow with respect while opening the large double-doors, making no eye-contact. As they turn, it is easy enough to see that they are sporting SMGs, not for the Prince, they would know better than to think they could be anything more than an annoyance, but for the simple fact that this just is not a nice neighborhood.

Once inside, one cannot help but notice the three 20x15x10 concrete pits in the floor just behind the plush little area where Drexl sits. The very  expensive, mostly purple furniture and rugs look quite out of place amongst the concrete and rusted steel backdrop.

The Theophidian sits in a large chair, in what appears to be a velvet, burgundy smoking jacket and a silk leopard-print shirt. Perhaps twenty feet away, his pimped-out Mercedes 260D sits just inside a large cargo-door.

Drexl rises respectfully as soon as Carter enters and bow to him, noting that he is indeed alone. Alhmanic is impressed, he expected at least one muscle-bound oaf to accompany him, that he came alone is a mark of repute, if not courage. Drexl smiles for a moment, at the ease of which this Prince has passed his first test. Offering him a seat and a Black Treasurer cigarette, Drexl will wait for the prince to sit before he himself does and wait for the Prince to begin the conversation on his own terms.

Any fool can treat a Prince as such in the lord's Palace, but to give one the impression that they are royalty in a strange and foreign place requires a special kind of humility...

The mad princes eyes linger on the beautiful car for a moment. He hasnt seen one like that for decades... But he isnt here to talk antiques.

Prince Carter wears a tailored pinstripe suit and is rather obviously unarmed.

'Alhmanic Drexler, you have an interesting means of sending invitations.' Carter says remembering the vaporizing slug that had everyone looking at him like he was deranged.

Carter takes the whole place in with one sweep of his eyes. The paranoia that has kept him alive for centuries marking every exit, possible ambush point, trap or other potential issue. He wants to look into the pits but now is not the time.

Carter pushes his curiosity aside and takes the offered seat. He politely declines the cigarette... less out of mistrust than the simple fact he never picked up the habit before he had to remember to breathe in public...

“Ah yes, well, I had to be certain that I would get your attention. For one such as myself to arrive unnoticed could very easily be misinterpreted. Many years ago, I might have upheld the ruse that I was perhaps a member of the Poseur clan. Perhaps I would even have been successful at such an endeavor, but alas, such things are beneath me now.”

2008-08-10 16:59:50 Drexl rolls 9 dice to Perc+Empathy 6,1,10,7,7, 1,5,3,7,4 (3 successes)

Taking note of the Malkavian's slight discomfort, he does what he can to alleviate his guests concerns. Raising a hand and snapping his fingers once, the handful of ghouls that are still milling about inside the warehouse installing and cleaning immediately stop what they are doing and look to Drexl. “Get the fuck out.” he says plainly and quietly, not even turning to look at them. In a moment, they have all filed out of the building.

Returning his full attention to Carter, he continues, “In Kreole, there is a saying: Cocro no bang Slang, Slang no bang Cocro, meaning simply, the crocodile fears not the snake, the snake fears not the crocodile.” He smiles, though it may well be a genuinely cordial smile, the horrible scarring on his face makes it appear rather menacing, regardless of what expression it wears.

“Many rationalize this is simply because they are both predators, though you and I know that this is often not sufficient reason for one to leave the other in peace. I prefer to think that it is because though they share the same domain, they do not hunt the same game.”

Carter seems more comfortable when all the minions file out like obedient dogs. Its refreshing to see newcomers who know their place and the place of those beneathe them.

Carter settles back very casually, settling his eyes on Drexl.

'An agreeable metaphor. What game brings you to my domain then snake?'

Snake isnt used as a derogatory, coming from Carter it actually sounds respectful. Aknowledgement of a fellow predator, even if he of a completely different species...

Drexl certainly takes it as a complement, his creepy smile flashing yet again, though he would likely have taken it as a complement regardless of how it was intended.

"The game which I hunt are already dead." he replies, matter-of-factly. "Though, there are of course, many levels of dead." he adds, tapping an index finger on his chin and looking thoughtful.

For the most part, I wish only to usher a handful of mortals to a particular subdivision of what we call the Western Lands. A sort of afterlife, if you will, which is a part of our theology. Though it is something of a game... Free-will can be rather daunting at times, but I digress."

He sits up, leaning forward in his chair, looking at the floor for a moment, and finally to the Prince once more. "You must forgive me, I have been speaking in enigmatic circles for so long that, at times, it requires effort not to. But such is not my intent this night, not with you."

Leaning back once more, and resting his elbow on the armrest, his forehead upon two fingertips of one hand, his dead eye peering through the remaining fingertips which dangle from his hand, the other eye's pupil narrowing to an ophidian slit "The truth, my Liege, is that I came here because I have little other choice."

"My particular interpretation of my Clan's scrïptures oft brands me as a heretic, though I know that this is the safe and easy refuge of one brandishing the shield of Dogma, I also understand that the path of the visionary is not and easy one to walk."

"I lived quite comfortably in Haiti, but, nothing lasts forever, I suppose. At any rate, with the U.N. stormtroopers smashing everything to pieces there in the name of democracy, I fled to Miami, to a nest of my fellow Serpents. Unfortunately the city is apparently under almost perpetual siege by those infidel wretches you call the Sabbat. To make matters worse, it was then, during my first real contact with others of my own blood that I learned I was to be a Pariah among my own kind for my beliefs."

Dragging his hand across his face, as if to wipe the shame from it, he folds his hands neatly into his lap "But again, I have not really answered what you have asked of me. Have I, Herr Krokodil?"

Drexl leans forward once more, his hands still clasped together "I am in your domain my Lord, because I seek to join your Camarilla."

He grins once more, a wide, toothy grin, turning his head ever so slightly to one side, leaving only the reptilian eye visible, and some small uncertainty as to which of them is actually the crocodile.

At a certain age all kindred resemble one another in many ways. No matter the clan they all fall into a similar pattern. An elder is easy to see, hear or feel. Carter knows he is in good treacherous company. Another prince may not want a snake or crocodile in his domain, But this mad prince has no problem manipulating chaos.

Insanity is liberation. Only the truly crazy can be truly free from worry. Only the truly crazy can live for centuries and look another undead predator of the same vintage in the eye and smile.

The mortals Drexl may hunt are not of Carters concern. Mortals breed, mortals multiply. You kill one and a dozen move in to take its place like an unbeatable cancer.

Drexls past, as sordid or complicated as it may be is intruiging. He is a visionary, he is worldly, he shows conviction. After a certain age you have to respect conviction in all its forms.

'You are welcome in my domain Alhmanic Drexler.' Carter says.

'You and your fellow serpents can join our camarilla as long as you can respect our laws.'

A predictable requirement, Carter wont waste the time to explain right now. He has far more interesting propositions for this snake.

'I will leave an address with you. In two nights time all the kindred of this city will be gathering in one location and your presence would be the first step in gaining acceptance here.'

Carters lips curl into a small grin, his eyes betray a mischeif and chaos he tries so hard to hide amongst certain company.

'I would also like to invite you to a more private gathering of the cities elite. We have a bit of a game we enjoy a few times a year and should you be able to provide a suitable contestant you would be welcome at our gathering.'

Carter will await a response, gauging the other kindreds interest before he reveals too much.  

--Last edited by Radiationjunkie on 2008-08-24 21:46:49 --

Drexl leans back in his chair, relaxing once more, his smile quickly spreading even further across his scarred face like some aggressive storm cloud attempting to consume the very sun.

All his machinations for getting into this city relied on this one gambit, he poured monumental effort into locating a city of just the right size, which for whatever reason claimed a Mad Prince. A leader of true clarity, who possessed a will of his own, that was truly free. For if a 'mad' Prince would not have him, who would? Assuredly not some pure-bred marionette which was simply a mouthpiece for the shadowcourt behind.

Obviously, Drexl had found him.

The requirement was expected, though he will not waste time explaining that he already knows the rules he is expected to follow. The Malkavian has already moved on to far more enthralling subjects...

"I shall be more than happy to attend this gathering, it has been far, far too long since I have had a conversation as enjoyable as this one, I would be foolish not to see what other intriguing figures you keep about."

Drexl thrives upon mischief and chaos, though his faith forbids him from indulging in it himself before helping others to, the light in Carters eyes is as Ambrosia to any Setite. He has dropped and pretense of controlling his expression, conscious or otherwise. A statement such as this from any wielding as much power and influence as Carter must can only allude to the sort of debauchery that might well make the maddest of Roman Emperors gag. The sort of thing Drexl lives and breathes.

"A contestant?" he says wryly "That should provide little difficulty." He crosses a leg over the other, actually wrapping the foot behind his calf, coiling upon himself. He leans to one side of his chair, toward Carter, resting his chin on his hand, showing great interest. "So what exactly would this  contender be trying to win? ...And, perhaps more importantly, how?"

Exactly as he had hoped. Drexls reaction only serves to further reveal the excitement in his voice.

'The how is the fun part. You see; there is a near impossible to access island just off shore that is set up with hidden cameras. The contestants have no idea how they got there and are ghouled to the point of overdose making them highly unstable...'

Carter shifts in his seat and leans forward, excited as someone explaining a new UFC twist...

'We incapacitate them so they can wake up with no idea where they are when they wake up and leave each one with a recording to tell them the only way off the island, is to be the only living person on it by sunrise.'

Carter waves his hand marking sunrise as a general term... The game never takes that long.

'We watch from a control room under the lighthouse where the final survivor is told to go. The final survivor having proved themselves a worthy meal is returned to the elder who entered it, but cannot leave the island. We wouldnt want to jeapardize future games...'

The mechanics laid out Carter moves on to the real kick of the games.

'The important twist is that the gathered elders bet on each entrant. Our Toreador elder Mr. Arturo runs the books and keeps track of who bets what. Anything from liquid assets to favors or... well, anything your willing to put at stake.'

Drexl steeples his fingers together in front of his face as he leans back into the cushy chair once more, cleaving his mismatched eyes along with the pristine and horribly scarred halves of his face. His face reveals that this is no simple serpent or crocodile, but an amalgamation of the two... this is a dragon of the purest avarice, seeking to collect and possess every possible experience of ignominy and depravity the world has to offer.

"Magnificent." he says very slowly, his tone utterly dripping with cupidity.

"I believe that I shall feel right at home here. Count me in." Stroking his chin for a moment in consideration before continuing, he adds "I would like to extend to you an open invitation to my own little sporting event..." he motions behind him towards the pits in the floor "perhaps somewhat sporadically and on a smaller scale, though similar to your own."

"It will be much like the gladiators of old. The only rules being those agreed upon by the combatants before hand and the fighters being here by choice. There are varying prizes offered as enticements from time to time, and open wagers upon the outcome."

"Perhaps I shall seek out this... Arturo you mentioned, I have no mind for such meticulous details."  

--Last edited by Alhmanic Drexler on 2008-08-26 23:02:11 --

'Intruiging. I will be sure to attend your event as well.'

Carter grins. Kindred who appreciate the bloody gladitorial events are few and far beetween. He would never mention them to the younger kindred. They never seem to understand... Watching and gambling on a life and death struggle isnt about the violence or the show. Its about control. Its about dominating the fighters even as they attempt to do the same to eachother.

In this unsure modern world such a measure of control is like anastesia. Just moments of pure control can make a months paranoia and uncertainty melt away like so much fog...

Carter will stand and smooth his jacket as he approaches one of the pits to look down into it. He had half expected to find crocodiles or snakes or some other terrible creature that one wouldnt want to fall onto.

'I will be sure to introduce you to Arturo when you join us tommoro night. My Keeper of Elysium has chosen an abandoned railway station near the lake.'

"I shall reserve you a private viewing space, my Liege, should you desire to be unseen." he says, pointing up to the mirrored glass "There will be any number of spectators, ranging from small-time drug-lords to wall-street brokers."

Drexl will also stand as the Prince passes him, following him to the pit "I look forward to the opportunity, it has been far too long since I have had the privilege of conversing with such a diversified group of thinkers. I expect it will be quite refreshing."

He pauses, holding his chin as he looks down into the tiny arena "Tell me my Lord, shall my blood remain a mystery to your subjects, or am I free to be... myself?"

'I require no such accomidations. I prefer to be right in the thick of it and can blend in where i need to.'

2008-09-06 07:55:56 Prince Carter rolls 7 dice to Mask of 1000 faces (Diff 7) 8,8,3,3,7, 6,10 (4 successes)

For just a moment Carters face will exactly match that of the Setite at his side. Right down to the serpentine eye and the scars.

As his face melts back to his own, or at this point, what can only be presumed is his own he comments on Drexlers question.

'You dont strike me as the type who would be shy about their bloodline. I find its best to just be forthcoming, given the current state of things. Im sure you agree...'

Drexl's grin is quite odd, it could just be that he is genuinely impressed with this Kindred's mastery of his own abilities, but it certainly looks like the self-infatuated gaze of a narcissist peering at his own reflection.

"As you wish." he returns with a slight bow.

"Shy? No, my Liege, nothing of the sort, I simply did not wish to assume. Such fallacies often prove more detrimental than dishonesty. I am more than happy to show my scales."