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annwfyn.livejournal.com2007-07-09 01:01 am
Entry tags:
2007-07-09
annwfyn.livejournal.com2007-07-09 01:01 amreindeerflotila.livejournal.com2007-07-09 12:32 pmThose Terrible Women
Tristan sat quietly, his lands layed out upon the desk before him, slightly crumpling the notes strewn across the area. Each note a question, a potential answer...a clue to the plague. Looking up at the wall nearest him he examined the flow chart for the thousandth time, noting the additions Dieter had made in just the last few days. His own updates were written in red, almost hard enough to score through the paper and into the board beneath.
This plague consumed him, its twists and turns, the recent mutation and quite worrying escalation as a result...past time for another update to the concerned parties elsewhere.
As Tristan gathered papers to him and began collating a report in some semblance of order, it dawned on him that from this point on he would be signing his missives not only as Tristan Felgate, Apprentice of the Seventh Circle, but as Tristan Felgate, Prince of London. This stopped his hands asif frozen in time as his mind filtered through the likely outcomes of Ms Devon and Ms Allen's machinations. Not Good. Smiling grimly his hands resumed their motion, carefully and meticulously he arranged the papers and stood, squaring his shoulders inside his expensive suit he looked through the window and saw Dieter working in the Lab. If nothing else, it was an opportunity, a chance for change and to bring the stability of Clan Tremere to the troubled city.
It was also something of a slap in the face of the Ventrue, but that could not be helped. A strange smile crept across his face.
"Lily is going to be ....annoyed"
This plague consumed him, its twists and turns, the recent mutation and quite worrying escalation as a result...past time for another update to the concerned parties elsewhere.
As Tristan gathered papers to him and began collating a report in some semblance of order, it dawned on him that from this point on he would be signing his missives not only as Tristan Felgate, Apprentice of the Seventh Circle, but as Tristan Felgate, Prince of London. This stopped his hands asif frozen in time as his mind filtered through the likely outcomes of Ms Devon and Ms Allen's machinations. Not Good. Smiling grimly his hands resumed their motion, carefully and meticulously he arranged the papers and stood, squaring his shoulders inside his expensive suit he looked through the window and saw Dieter working in the Lab. If nothing else, it was an opportunity, a chance for change and to bring the stability of Clan Tremere to the troubled city.
It was also something of a slap in the face of the Ventrue, but that could not be helped. A strange smile crept across his face.
"Lily is going to be ....annoyed"
bringeroflight.livejournal.com2007-07-09 01:09 pm
Homeland
It’s a pretty big building, and not in the best shape. The food, leftovers and scraps and second hand pizza, but piled high, and tasting good. A few rats scamper in the corners, but they leave the food be. A motley collection of down and outs pick at the food, or warm themselves on one of the oil drum fires set up around the room.
One of the old hands ambles over in a thoughtful manner to the newest among them. He’s warming himself by the fire, staring into it, thoughtfully. He’s lean, not underfed or unhealthy. Wiry, and carrying himself with a confidence that belies his tattered clothes.
“What’s up, kid?”
The newcomer chuckles. “It’ll take me a while to get the hang of being the ‘kid’ again. I was wondering. If you mate with a kin of another tribe, they become a member of that tribe, right?”
The older timer nods “Yeah…”
The newcomer smiles, and looks back into the fire. “I guess I can live with that. It’s odd, though. While I miss her, I’m kind of hoping I don’t get to see her for a long while yet. I think she’ll do OK.”
There’s a long pause, and each of them seem lost in their thoughts. The old timer is the first to speak.
“I can see the logic in that. We drink to absent friends a lot, but we’ll always see them again. In time.”
He pauses, looking the newcomer up and down.
“So, kid. What’s your name?”
The newcomer smiles, and there’s a glint in his eyes.
“I’m Alex.”
One of the old hands ambles over in a thoughtful manner to the newest among them. He’s warming himself by the fire, staring into it, thoughtfully. He’s lean, not underfed or unhealthy. Wiry, and carrying himself with a confidence that belies his tattered clothes.
“What’s up, kid?”
The newcomer chuckles. “It’ll take me a while to get the hang of being the ‘kid’ again. I was wondering. If you mate with a kin of another tribe, they become a member of that tribe, right?”
The older timer nods “Yeah…”
The newcomer smiles, and looks back into the fire. “I guess I can live with that. It’s odd, though. While I miss her, I’m kind of hoping I don’t get to see her for a long while yet. I think she’ll do OK.”
There’s a long pause, and each of them seem lost in their thoughts. The old timer is the first to speak.
“I can see the logic in that. We drink to absent friends a lot, but we’ll always see them again. In time.”
He pauses, looking the newcomer up and down.
“So, kid. What’s your name?”
The newcomer smiles, and there’s a glint in his eyes.
“I’m Alex.”