When the night finally arrives the Museum will be open late. Arturo arranged for the entire fourth floor to be off limits to the general public. It will require the fancy invitation he sent out to gain access to the elevator to the fourth floor.

The elevator opens to a foyer containing a gallery of sculptures. The centerpiece being a white marble statue of a curvacious nude woman doing battle with a very large snake. The rest of the scultptures are your typical modern pieces. Everything from abstract 'crashed helicopter' looking twisted metal to marble disembodied heads of recognizable historic figures.

There are benches scattered about, each dedicated to a museum donator. Across the foyer there is a hallway with offices on either side. At the end of the hall is the exhibit Arturo has invited his entire clan here to see. The exhibit takes up the entire west side of the fourth floor and the entire room is dedicated to just one artist: Rachel Chennault.

She is obviously a painter of great talent, some of the most expressive pieces of her work are portraits of unsuspecting people. Snapshots of humanity that capture a spark of life whether downtrodden or uplifting that all Toreador know and miss.

[All Toreador entering the gallery will need to roll Self-Control Diff: 6 or become entranced with the paintings for a time.]  

--Last edited by Radiationjunkie on 2009-01-14 17:27:41 --

It would appear that Vittorio is the first to arrive, his limo pulling up to the museum.  He wears a black satin suit and burgundy shirt with black tie.

2009-01-15 10:55:13 Vittorio rolls 4 dice to Self-Control 10,6,10,2 (3 successes)

As he enters the gallery and gazes around he gives a slight approving nod to the artistry.  Quaint, cathartic.  Something must be said for the simplistic in art.  True he had more of an eye for the Renaissance masters, but he could appreciate a touch of the modern.  He never much understood that whole abstract thing though.  How could you tell if something was good if you couldn't tell what it was in the first place?  

The next point of business is to find Thomas and give him his congratulations...  

--Last edited by Vittorio Orlando on 2009-01-15 13:00:48 --

2009-01-15 14:41:45 Thomas Arturo rolls 4 dice to Sel-Con [Entrancement] 4,1,4,1 (BOTCH x 2) PFFFFFTTTT!!!!

A good host never lets his guests arrive before he does. Thomas Arturo is standing in the center of the west wing, where he has stood for at least an hour. The museum staff who are milling about and finishing their preparations before elaving the exlusive, and now beginning event cant figure out why he refuses to speak to them or even acknowledge their presence.

Thomas is staring in rapt fascination at one of Rachels latest works. A darker scene of what must be a homeless mother and child. He looks like a well dressed statue in a tailored suit with a dark blue shirt and a starkly white tie.

An attractive woman at the entrance will offer to take Vittorios coat and no matter how many times she coughs to get the Hosts attention, he never turns around.

Illy arrives, stepping out of her limo with the help of the always impeccably dressed and always beautiful Conchita.

Attired in the latest designer fashion, wearing a long elaborate black dress by one of the new designers that Michelle Obama seems to like so much, she strides confidently into the gallery.

((2009-01-15 16:36:15 Illuminata rolls 4 dice to Entrancement 6,8,1,9 (2 successes))

Though taken in by the beauty of the artwork, Illuminata manages to maintain her self-control.

After she gives her coat to the attendant, she spots Thomas, completely immobile and mute. She knows exactly what has happened to him.

She walks up to him and slaps him hard across the face.

"Wakie wakie, eggs and bakie," she says, amused.

2009-01-15 16:42:46 Thomas Arturo rolls 4 dice to Sel-Con [Entrancement][+2 diff, previous botch](diff 8) 6,4,9,9 (2 successes)

Illuminatas slap rings out in the wing of the museum. It takes Arturo a second to come to his senses, he was so enraptured he could have been hit by a car and barely noticed. The world shifts back into focus and he blinks before bringing a hand to his cheek for just a second.

'Isnt it just beautiful? She will be just perfect.'

He asks Illuminata, motioning to the large canvas.  

--Last edited by Radiation on 2009-01-15 16:50:04 --

Looking closer at the large canvas Thomas is pointing out, Illuminata nods, her face lit up with pleasure.

"Why yes, dear, that is quite beautiful, I can quite see why I had to snap you out of it. Quite the talented little budding artiste," she says, smiling.

"You do know how terribly depressed artists get after they're embraced, though, when their view of the world and their own creativity shifts so drastically. You'll have to keep an eye on this little flower. Rachel, is it? She is joining us tonight, isn't she, dearest?"

'Rachels work makes me think she wont be shaken by new death ennui for long. She has such an eye for humanity that the contrast of what she becomes should only serve to enhance her talents...'

Arturo obviously thinks he has chosen the perfect cantidate. Most potential sires do. Only time, and Rachels inevitable death will tell.

'She should be here within the hour love. I think youll find her quite irresistable.'

"Oh yes, from what you've told me, she is quite beautiful on top of being a wonderful artist. Excellent choice, darling, excellent choice," Illy says, smiling as she lights another cigarette.

"I do hate our clan's tendency to be fashionably late sometimes. How rude, this whole thing should have started half an hour ago! But I suppose, if the artist herself isn't showing up for another hour, we can forgive the others," she adds, still smiling.

2009-01-21 15:19:32 Illuminata rolls 6 dice to Per+ Alert 4,5,7,8,3, 9 (3 successes)

She scans the area around them, listening and looking to see if she can spot any of the other Toreador.

"Oh, Orlando dearest!" She waves, pitching her voice loud enough that the magician can hear her.

"Do join us, you simply must see this painting!"

 I enter with little pomp, dressed in a very nice suit with splashes of Burgundy. My hair is collected into a well groomed pony tail, it falling down my back. I slowly start to inspect the paintings in earnest, I am occasionally asked to attend these events, but Thomas was quite firm about my presence being desired. Of course I can only begin to assume why, but I'm certain it will become obvious as the evening progresses.

I can see Thomas and Illuminata, though I do not recognize any of the other kindred here if even there are any. I nod in greeting and will await their company should they finish with their own conversation. I just stand and look into the art upon the museum walls and marvel at the artiste's design.

I have occasionally found a need to find one to paint the visions I remember from my earlier years and am very studious about removing any fragment of their memory that would lead them back to myself afterward.

Vittorio hears the slap ring out across the marbled walls of the gallery and turns from his perusal of the artwork.  Approaching Arturo and Illuminata he smiles at the pair.  "Quite a lovely exhibition, Thomas.  I can't say I know much of the technical aspect, but I do know what I like."  His eyes glide around the walls, resting here and there on a few specific pieces.  "I trust this should be an equally lovely evening.  So who is this mystery artist you've been so entranced with?"

Arturo had hoped the Regent would accept his invitation, vauge as it was. This Gathering of Roses will likely be less about the Roses as a whole and more about just the cities elite. Arturo suspects the younger members of his clan still have certain reservations about bringing another into the blood. Its one of those things that usually takes a century or so of lonelyness or boredom to overcome.

'She is a prodigy from the local university. I have been enthralled, even dangerously so by every new work she creates. Her name is Rachel Chennault, she should be here within the hour with her latest work.'

Arturo explains to Vittorio with an obvious excitement in his voice. The room being set up in a semi-circle around the large canvas Arturo was entranced by the Regent will inevitably make his way to the little gathering of Toreador. Arturo wouldnt want to call him past any of the paintings he may appreciate before he gets a good look at them.

'We are also expecting an old friend of mine. Harmony Alexander is one of the few Brujah I could ever stand and I havent seen her for decades...'

Arturo is sure to add this to Illuminata and Vittorio before the Regent gets too close. Its known to him how the brujah usually react to the regent at first meeting. You could say Arturo arranged it that way just to add some drama to the event... Its likely the harpies will at any rate.

White, lace gloved fingers trail over the invitation. Her butler, Mr. Leon, had taken it to her, stating it was from a Mister Thomas Arturo. Of course, she would not turn down an invitation sent to her by her dear, old friend. How long had it been since she last saw him...five years...thirty? Years just melt into each other and became quite a long time.

The gentle chime of the elevator indicates that she has arrived on the fourth floor. The doors slide open and Harmony steps out and into the foyer. Dressed in a long, pale, rose dress with long sleeves; the hem touches the ground from the back, though it is easily 15 inches shorter from the front, showing off a pair of black boots, with twin black satin bows decorating the back. Her black cane taps lightly against the floor.

Her gaze moves to the works, first to the woman and the snake slithering around each other, then to the more modern pieces, if she is enthralled by them all or simply displeased nothing shows on her face.

But Harmony moves to regard each and every piece there, giving them all her attention, and her respect to those who have worked so hard to create them. Her gaze slides over metals and marbles and canvases, over the metallic hues and the softer strokes of oil paints. In her mind she pretends to close her eyes and breathe in deeply, capturing the scents into the marrow of her bones.

Long skirts shuffle as she finally turns and heads towards the main area, delicate heals indicate that she is approaching to where a small cluster of Kindred have gathered.

She spots Thomas’s profile as he chats with the others and her lips curve up into a genuine smile. She says nothing but just walks up and stands right behind him. If he remembers her well enough he may be aware of her by the distinctive scent of French Vanilla she always wore.

Slater has had a couple of real ruff days as he gets out the tainted blood to turn back to his normal overconfident persona.  He comes in the museum with deep black ring around his eye and more slender body. He knows the blood is almost gone but now he just look like a fucking meth head. His shirt is ripped to fucking shreds and cover in old crusted up blood. He has no will to fix him self up for this dog and pony show. He sees that there are more than just art fag at this event. He just thinks to himself fucking great. He moves at a slow pace as he enters the main gallery and try to keep his face low.

Slater rolls 3 dice to ignoring the Art 7, 4, 3 (1 success)

Slater look over at the upper crust of the city and dose not say a word but he just walk on by because he know that they really don’t want to talk to scum like myself.  Slater just lean his back up against 6 foot statue made out red marble with swirl of white. The Statue is off a Anglo immigrant dressed in industrial revolution style clothing swinging a sledge hammer aiming at chains to shackles that attach to his foot.  Their a little silver plaque attack to the statue that reads Freedom, Matthew Rousseau, Sanfield Rock. He just laughs as he sits Indian styles leaning against some of his own art.    

Scents can tie stronger to memories than any other sense. Thomas is taken back to a century ago when he first met the beautiful greek Brujah and mistook her for one of his own clan. It wasnt until her impassioned arguements over the virtue of a sculpture made Thomas suddenly fear for his continued existence that he came to know the truth.

'Speak of the Devil...'

Thomas interrupts his own conversation by turning to welcome Harmony with a charming smile and his usual dry kiss to both of her cheeks.

'My dear you found us. How was your travel?'

Slater will avoid Thomas wrath for at least another moment while he is distracted by Harmony's arrival. Showing up bloody certainly got the attention of the security staff, even if Slater did remember his invitation. Such a blatant disregard for etiquette will not leave his elder pleased...

Harmony’s European upbringing and the fiery Mediterranean blood in her will make her return the twin kisses on both of Thomas’ cheeks with quite a flourish. A golden chuckle as she pulls away and regards him, ‘Devil? You surly meant of Angels,’ she teases gently as she raises her thumb to softly wipe away a pale-pink kiss-print she left on his cheek.

‘Of course I found you, Thomas,’ her accent is heavily accentuated, she rolls her Rs on her tongue as though they were made of strong toffee, ‘wild horses could not have kept me away from tonight. I wait with bated breath to regard the rest of these marvels.’

Delicate fingers move up to brush a lock of hair behind a dainty ear before she continues. ‘My trip here was fine, we are slowly settling in. It is a lovely city.’ Her words end, though her eyes state that she could be saying a lot more...but was never one to gush too much in front of people she did not know. She casts a look to the others and offers them a soft, yet pleasant smile.

The lady of the evening arrives. She doesn't arrive with some sort of entourage or even a guest to hold her arm. In fact she had parked her very ordinary car out in the parking lot, no doubt where all the expensive cars await with drivers, had locked it with the key in her hand and pocketed it in the small purse she carried.

It's a small time later that she arrives on the floor for the private event, her own private viewing (which was still a little beyond her), with butterflies crawling in her belly. She had taken her small waist-jacket off when she had arrived and carried it over the arm that held her small black purse. Her ears are pierced with small, round, amber coloured gems, and almost match the extraordinary colour of her honey iris. The auburn-copper of her hair is bound up to keep off her neck, the spiral curls are carefully arranged in a simple black clip. She doesn't wear any other jewelry, not even a watch, leaving her arms bare. Her shoes are a soft beige heel that blends in with the colour of her skin, they are meant to be the sort of heels that are ignored to let the dress speak for itself. And it really does.

http://www.goodorient.com/Sexy_Shoulder_Velvet_Dress_P25089#Detailed

The problem that they the Toreador would have may very well be immediate. Rachel doesn't only make paintings, she should be in one herself. It isn't the sure of beauty that screams out as striking, but is a soft and slow allure. If she were in something other than a dress, she could very well be quite a saucy siren, but her down-to-earth demeanor chips something off that. Rachel doesn't have the most grace, but she has more than the ordinary (mortal) individual, nor does she have some cat walk strut. But there is something to her. Perhaps some sort of formal training, some acute awareness of how her posture should be (and is) held. It's quiet, like the rest of her, and that much is immediate.

[Appearance 4 - the photo doesn't do her justice.]

She's just some Louisiana girl that grew up and was blessed with curves, a good eye and a few talents that she excels. For a moment, as she steps out of the elevator, she is wondering what she is doing here. She can't quite seem to get her nerves to relax or her heart stop beating rapidly as its fueled by her anxiety. There's a little excitement if she could stop worrying about the fact that the man that wanted this viewing owned half the buildings in the city.

So its with a quiet uncertainty and a good deal of determination and well raised manners that she follows the hall towards where her own work is displayed and others are gathered. She has no idea who the man is, what he looks like, or what even to expect tonight.

When she does see the gathered she pauses a good distance, standing on the fringe of their gathering, with both hands clasping her purse before her. She absorbs in the various personalities (and styles) that have gathered at a strangers request and wonders what inspired them to come. Admittedly she looks a little flustered and it softly colours the (already) pale of her skin.

'Its a work in progress.'

Thomas grins. He is very proud of the fact he has designed the better part of this city in the last century and a half under varying mortal names. Only the kindred can truly appreciate the work he has put into the skyline over the three generation period.

'Let me introduce you to my clanmates.'

Thomas says to Harmony, a guiding hand at the mall of her back will usher her into the little gathering. Thomas motions first to the woman standing with him and the other suited gentleman.

'This is Illuminata De Borbon Siciles. She recently graced us from Atlanta and this fine gentleman is the magician and entertainer extroidinaire Vittorio Orlando, most recently of Las Vegas.'

Thomas motions to each of them in turn before introducing Harmony, even though he has already mentioned her to them.

'My friends this is the lovely Harmony Alexander of whatever part of europe she fancies this decade.'

Thomas teases Harmony for her wandering ways momentarily before he spots Rachel entering the room. He stops speaking as if his breath caught in his throat. A mortal might call it a schoolyard crush, or love at first sight; but the Kindred should recognize it as a dangerous obsession.

"A pleasure to meet you, Harmony," Illy says graciously, placing a cigarette in her long black holder and lighting it.

As she does so, one of her eyebrows cocks up, as she has just caught sight of the terribly uncouth and filthy Mr. Slater.

"Oh dear, Thomas, do you want me to..." she trails off as she notices Thomas's attention is gone, and turns to follow his gaze.

"Oh yes, quite a beauty, this one. And talented too. Some women have all the luck," she sighs.

Harmony mock-huffs at Thomas’ teasing. ‘I have just come from Paris.’ The way she speaks the city’s name is unmistakably with an accent...yet not with the heavy Greek one she spoke with before, Paris is said like a Parisian would utter it, a roll of letters, omitting the S.

‘Likewise, I am sure Illuminata.’

Her eyes shift to the magician, ‘tell me Orlando, do you pull rabbits out of top hats, as well?’ She smiles at him softly.

She notices Thomas’ abrupt loss of words; she spots the girl, then looks at his face and her brows furrow momentarily. She knows that look, she has seen it before...it is like some insanity...somewhere between love and obsession.

Slowly she nods to Illy, ‘yes, she is quite beautiful,’ her words float softly away as the girl catches her attention further.

 The work is stunning, perhaps in a few hundred years her name could very well be associated with some of the greats, but time is a fickle thing and very hard to gauge. I slowly look over each piece, paying attention to those nearby. I have always found art calming and with my age can appreciate the finer styles that escape many of our kind. Perhaps that is why Thomas and I have always appreciated each other company since we met here in Sanfield those many nights ago. I slowly work through the collection trying to ascertain her muse, her guidance, her subject matter. It is a doorway to the soul and should she have roused Mr. Arturo's interest she must certainly be given my proper attention.

Mr. Arturo's enchanted gaze belies that his subject of enchantment must have arrived. I continue onward, slowly working toward the rear and toward Illuminata. She can certainly inform me as to whom is here and in attendance. She is speaking to another woman so I will patiently await her departure or perhaps an invitation to join, civility is the custom when you are a guest.