Parties, People, and Everything Else

The clean-shaven, brash, semi- crippled, black and pepper-haired man turned on the charm just as soon as he entered the Sanctum. He wore a smile that seemed to have no end, but bore a demeanor that more closely resembled a wolf stalking prey. These were the parties he’d been forced to attend growing up. The smile he’d been forced to perfect. Even despite knowing that every person in the room before him now was just as dead and unbreathing as he, they were little more monstrous to him than the crowd he’d grown up with or the one just outside in the previous hall. Some of those arrayed before him now at least had the decency to show their monstrous side on the outside and for that he was grateful.

He made his rounds of polite exchanges with his fellow Brujah, taking note of their collective wardrobe solidarity with much satisfaction. His general look of disdain directed at the Toreador crowd was not readily mistaken for anything else and he unsurprisingly found it easy to avoid any verbal sparring with that crowd as a result.
He did manage to sling one or two veiled insults to their general direction but restrained his better taunts for any of the Ventrue who crossed his path.
He wandered the perimeter of the room as he was inclined to do ever since the war to make himself more at ease before making his way to the crowd he felt more comfortable with-the Nosferatu.

Catching sight of Colleen Moore, Sy approaches her and offered a low courteous bow. He remains bowed as he speaks and only raises after she responds. “I tend to find meetings like this rather tedious and best avoided, but knowing you’re here Ms. Moore allows me to recall what sunshine felt like. Thank you for your presence-would you honor me further by permitting me to stand at your side?”

Colleen seemed to quickly wipe at her face as Sy approached, turning from the heavy curtains she'd been peering through to face him. It was hard to tell in the dim Fae light, but her good eye seemed to be red and puffy. She quickly crossed her arms and squared her shoulders, glaring up at the Brujah.

"Oh certainly, I wouldn't dream of depriving you of your turn to get your shots in! Fire away! Or should I go get that tramp you run with first so she can sell tickets to the freak show?"

An angry, pussy tear streaks down from her marred side while a furious fire dances behind her eyes.

Upon the reaction Sy has a look of surprise wash over his face that quickly turns to a simmering fury as he sees the tear flow down her face.
He grips the kerchief from his pocket and offers it to the woman as he says, his tone controlled but his eyes betraying his hunger and rage directed at the gathered Toreador, “The blind snobby trollop does not speak for me, and her posse of inbred sycophantic primping swine are as Ignorant as they are tasteless if they have spurned your graces.”

He turned his gaze which softened back to Colleen,
“The reason they feel inclined to exclude others from their pitiful excuses for social engagements is because they have their heads so far up their collective derrières, they have forgotten what true beauty is-and they have to congregate to reach a consensus amongst themselves...please pardon my uncouthness. I just detest feigned elitism-especially when it is so unearned.”

The mangled starlette merely rolls her eyes and cocks her hip to one side.

"True beauty? Now I know you're full of it. Look at me! I'm a monster, Sy! Children see me and scream! I used to be beautiful. I used to have beautiful men fawning all over me, fighting over me! I used to make beautiful things and everyone loved me for it! And now... Now I'm this... Thing!"

Her lip quivers, more tears tracing lines down her face. She tanks the proferred hankie, finally, and dabs at her face furiously. The clean Fae light casts strange shadows in her uneven face, and even the unwarped side has a gangly, gnarled look in her distress. She hugs herself and moves back into the shadows just a little bit. She had been nearly shouting before, but now her voice is a bear whisper.

"All of this is so wrong. I just want to be one of them. I should have been one of them. Why can't they see that?"

Sy visibly shields Colleen from as much of the room as he can as she cleaned herself.
“You are REAL. You are genuine. They are jealous of those qualities about you because they are all fake. I haven’t been like this very long, but long enough to know that everyone wants what they don’t have.”

Sy looks back to the Toreador, “True beauty isn’t looks-it’s an attitude. As far as I’m concerned there’s no such thing as ugly or monstrous faces; but ugly minds, ugly hearts, ugly souls-those abound. In that regard-I dare say your beauty towers over all of them.”

The young brujah shakes his head, “And I might also add, you still have men after you. But- If you really have your heart set on becoming like them though, instead of trying to chase after them to convince them of your worthiness; why not best them at their own game and take a page from their playbook? Act like them and start your own elusive social group. Make them chase after you, and want what you have.”

Colleen stares back at him silently for a long moment, both halves of her face unreadable.

"What do you know about me? Nothing. I can count the number of conversations we've had on one hand. You don't know the first thing about me or the things I've done to get what little respect I have around here.."

Her eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Now I know who you remind me of. You and your friend end over there. You're just like Charlie. All smiles and good humor face to face, then after you've gotten what you want the just ke is revealed for what it is and it turns out I'm the punchline. I don't know what your game is yet, but much as I may like to I can't trust you. Unless..."

She trails off, suddenly uncertain and blushing.

"Nevermind. You'd never agree. It's stupid."

Sy bristles slightly as he says, “I don’t know who Charlie is but I will tell you up front, I am never untrue to myself. If I don’t like you-I don’t seek you out; it’s abundantly clear if I don’t enjoy your company. If I have a question I ask it. I’m direct like that. I don’t play games-that’s how those blowhards over there do things, and that ain’t me. Believe me or not-that’s your perogative, but I have never lied or been discourteous or even disingenuous to you and have no intentions to start now. You are no joke and treating you as one even I’m smart enough to know is a deadly mistake.”

He takes a moment to compose himself again before he continues, “As far as not knowing you goes-you are one of the only people in this city I have any level of respect for and that comes from the few brief interactions we’ve enjoyed. I have little doubt you have fought for everything you’ve got thus far and-nothing was given freely or easily. I don’t claim to know your inner thoughts or put words in your mouth that you’ve not told me yourself.”

Sy looks at her cautiously as he says, “You claim I don’t know you yet you presume to know my mind. I’d like very much for us to one day be able to trust one another fully. What did you have in mind?”

She hesitates from r a moment, then nods to herself before looks ng up to meet his eye. Her voice is barely more than a whisper.

"Well... I've heard of this thing we can do. Ive never done it, but it's supposed to be pretty simple. It's called a Blood Bond. If we do it right, then I think I'll be able to trust you, and I think it will make us closer."

One eye is snarled and clouded over with cararacts. The other is big and brown and full of hope and fear.

"Is that what you want?"

Sy blinks slowly once and his eyes seem to glaze over as if he were recalling something before replying, “I shared my fair share of blood on the battlefield with my brothers in arms. There was certainly trust between us.” His glance refocused on Colleen, “If you feel us sharing blood will foster a closer relationship-I’m all in.”

She nods her head once, fidgeting with a long pearl necklace and biting her lip.

"It doesn't take long. And the more you do it the stronger the effect becomes, supposedly."

Her eyes dart here and there as if checking for an unseen audience, then she takes him by the hand and leads him further into the shadows where thick velvet curtains are framing huge stained glass windows. She draws him in not the folds of a curtain, away from all prying eyes. There, in shadow so deep even Kindred senses are dumbfounded she pulled him close and pressed her lips to his. The kiss lasted only a moment before Sy felt a sharp, wonderful pain in his lip. The pain lasted only a moment, then it was replaced by euphoria. He could feel the blood being sucked out of him and he reveled in it. Colleen broke off the kiss, both if them breathing heavily. She leaned her head against his, and he knew what to do. Her head tilted back and he sank his fangs into her neck, ravaging already ruined flesh. She tasted sweet, sweeter than anything. Her scebt was heady, strong, and beautifully feminine. A soft cry escaped her lips and he wanted more, but as one they drew apart. They took a moment in each other's arms, just breathing and reveling in the rush of feelings. Sy brushed gently at her hair and caught a dim glimps of a milky pale eye as big and beautiful as the moon looking up at him.

And for the first time he felt something stirring in his cold dead heart.

Sy shook for a brief moment after; maybe it was just him shivering in excitement, maybe it was fear of the unknown, maybe it was something...else. Whatever it was-it didn’t hurt.

“Pardon my French, but...damn. And supposedly this gets better?” His thoughts wizzed past him in a whirlwind. He leaned into her and whispered, “You’ve never done that before with anyone else, and neither have I and it felt that good on the first try...when do we get to try it again?”

Colleen laughed and ran a hand up Sy's chest.

"How does tomorrow sound? I've got a few drops to make, but after that I'm free."

She considers him for another moment before almost reluctantly drawing back.

"We should probably get back to the party. People will start to wonder. I'm curious about this social club idea of yours though. You're right, I've been coming at them the wrong way all this time and it's time to change things up. You can tell me all about it tomorrow."

The younger man flashed a grin, “Tomorrow...well I guess we will see if the old saying absence makes the heart grow fonder is true or not.”

As she mentions the effect the couples absence might have to the party, he says, “Make ‘em wonder. What they don’t know makes what we do know that much better.”

As she seemed to warm up to the idea he’d tossed out, he nods and gives a rakish grin. “Oh sure-we can “talk”...if that’s all you want.”

He pauses as a thought crossed his mind, “But since I have to go back to the party anyway; have to send a message to the prince and all that....would you mind introducing me to some of your friends while we wait? I’m still new to the scene, and if we’re going to be hanging out with one another more-knowing who’s good people or not would certainly be important.”

The two of them straightened themselves out and smoothly extricated themselves from the curtains. The Nosferatu was casual and smooth with rejoining the party, but she didn't notice what Sy did. She didn't see the tall man in common work clothes in the middle of a throng of similarly dressed Kindred. He had strong arms and a broad chest, a strong clean jaw and honey blonde hair shorn short. His intelligent blue eyes flitted from the Sewer Rat to Sy and a slow smile split his face.

**********

"So, there I was, in tha middle a' the Temple Mount, Grail in one hand and a squeelin' piggy in me other! Crusaders to me left and Jyhaddis crawlin' out every buildin' to the right when I turns to me mate Lance (that's Sir Lancelot, to the uninitiated) and I says 'I knew we shoulda taken a left turn at Gethsemane!'"

Raucus laughter broke out from the small crowd around the eccentric figure dominating the Nosferatu crowd. He'd have been tall if not for the horribly hunched back, and may have been handsome in life before the curse of Nosferatu found him. Whatever he was then, now he wore fine colorful silks only slightly stained by what was hopefully mud. He revels in the laughter for a moment, chuckling along himself until his gaze settles on Colleen.

"Why, if it inn't Dame Colleene! I swears, I shall have to keep my mouth shut now for fear of her radiant smile sending us all into torpor! More's the pity for us down in Undertown that we have to share her with you slobs on the surface!"

She smiles and gives him a fond kiss of greeting and he gives a courtly bow in return.

"Sir Bedevere, it's wonderful to see you again. I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. He's new to our society but I think he could be a real asset to our operations. Sir Bedevere, Knight of the Round Table and Emissary of Camelot, may I introduce Sy Cravenhill of Chicago,"

As the couple parted the veil, Sy surveyed the room seemingly nonchalantly until he locked eyes with the well muscled figure across the room. The moment was brief and over almost before it started, but one curt nod and rapid salute in greeting later the message was delivered.

*************************

Sy observed as the two Nosferatu greeted one another with some familiarity and watched as Colleen kissed the man. At that instant he felt another distant feeling for a fleeting moment but it was gone before he could label it. It did not feel comfortable. Must have been gas or something.

As the figure before him’s full title was revealed, Sy’s eyebrows raised. As Sy’s name was mentioned, he offered a respectful bow of his own.
As he raised himself up, Sy spoke “Your reputation precedes you Sir Knight. Thank you for all you have sacrificed to be with us this evening. You honor me by being in attendance.”

The brujah looked to Colleen as he said to Sir Bedevere, “Your strength and magnanimity must truly be equal to the LEGENDS if you can dare to part with such exquisite company for the periods you do.”

The Knight nodded along without a trace of humility.

"I am loathe to be away from my Lord's side, but duty is a demanding mistress. But it is necessary and right that old bonds of friendship and service be maintained. Indeed, without such sacrifices we could not have maintained our underground realm, nor expanded it and added to it's glory as we have these last few years."

He makes a sweeping bow to the empty throne before turning back to the Brujah.

"Prine Bianca is wise, gracious and dotting to those who serve her well. And she has no more loyal servants than we of Camelots court, and this is reflected in her entertaining some of our more... Ambitious projects. But tell me, what of you? Where do your idle hands wander to? What fantasies occupy your dreams? What manful pursuits drive you?"

Sy smiles at the gesture the man makes at the throne and seemed like he was about to say something but as the knight posed his questions, Sy held his tongue.

He furrowed his brow as he considered his words carefully before answering. “My hands act upon the whims of the ruling body....” he leans in and utters in a softer tone with a grin, “and where the ladies permit them to travel.”

He leans back, “My dreams are that of creating a better world; one ruled by equality and justice and unspoiled by avarice or marred by malice. My fantasy is to make reality match the vision of what could be instead of what is.”
Sy meets the mans eye as he takes a breath, “I strive ever for the pursuit self-perfection and edification and live to service my fellow man. My trusty mount, ‘Bianca’ garners most of my affection and care at present...though depending on how tonight goes that may change.”

He nods to Sir Bedevere as he says, “To be honest sir, I’d like very much to one day become a knight much like yourself. Any wisdom or aid you have in making this dream into reality would not be easily forgotten.”

The knight looks genuinely puzzled for a moment.

"Equality? Whatever do you mean, dear boy? Surely mankind's inequality is his greatest asset, for it ensures that all find service and all roles are filled! The innate superiority of some men is what makes society function! Why else would anyone sweep stables, mend clothing or empty chamber pots if not for the presence of greater men to guide and correct the lesser?"

He shakes his head in befuddlement.

"This is what's wrong with these higher Generations. Too many new ideas clouding your heads. Can you not see the contradiction in your own words? You claim to act upon the whims of the Prince, yet in the same breath claim equality as a virtue? Would that not then discredit your service?"

He sighs as if he's had this argument before and can guess the reply to come.

"I do not seek to change your mind, dear boy. Indeed, you sound like the last few batches of Squires; full of ideas and madness. Not realizing those ideals conflict so with the tenants of knighthood. It's a sentimentalism I've so far failed to beat out of them."

Sy tilted his head, “All roles have equal value. Or would you lead me to believe the kingdom of Camelot only exists and thrives because the good King Arthur wills it to?”

The brujah shakes his head, “Leadership and guidance are necessary for success-I do not dispute this. But what is a king without the kingdom? What purpose does a knight serve if he has no one or no cause to defend or uphold?”

Sy gestured to the empty throne, “Any person here could sit in that seat. You, me, even Alastair. This is equality-granted Alastair ruling would likely be madness. But thus far, only Bianca has prevailed and endured her adversity long enough to keep the chair. This is skill-not inborn superiority. She is not above anyone as she serves everyone. The person who forgets that...loses the chair. This is clearly seen by looking at her predecessor. I therefore see no contradiction to choose to act on her whims and play my role to serve the kingdom for we both have equally important roles to play and both serve one another. ”

He looks back to the knight. “In what way does serving others justly, acting rightly in wisdom and honor, and showing great courage or fortitude to challenge your leaders to maintain the highest degree of excellence-conflict with the tenants of knighthood?”

Sir Bedevere raises a finger like a blade to parry.

"Ah, but you neglect the nature of leadership and the role of the Divine when it comes to matters of state! No just ruler is without authority, and authority can only be given by a source of authority; meaning the Divine from whence all power, and therefore authority issues. And so it is that all kings rule by the will of God, not man. While I will not dispute that anyone may call themselves Prince, King, Chancellor, President, or by any other title he may please, it is only by the grace of God that any are allowed to maintain their power. Therefore to dispute the whims of a rightful king is to dispute the will of God."

He seems to size Sy up again, taking a moment to look him up and down.

"I do say you intrigue me, boy. I don't agree with your pie in the sky ideals, but as one stone sharpens another I find myself sharpened now! Tell me, what service would you offer as a Knight? What skills and resources do you bring that are unobtainable to dear Camelot? Will you dedicate yourself to learning our ways and embracing the path set before you? And with your queer views on authority and leadership, how can your oath of service be taken seriously? I pray you take no offense at the impertinent question, but I find myself baffled that one such as you would have any interest in Knighthood at all."

In response to the knight’s rebuttal Sy smiles as he says, “In matters of divinity or more spirited debate on the true nature of leadership, I shall defer to your wisdom and experience Sir Knight. I yield, until such a time as I may meet you on more even footing.”

Upon Sir Bedevere’s latter consideration, Sy considers his words carefully. “I feel likewise sharpened Sir Bedevere and take no offense at your question. To answer you though, I am not certain anything is beyond the reach of the court of Camelot. As far as what I would offer...In life I was an Iron worker-a charter member of the Sons of Vulcan guild. Those skills remain within me and would be at the mercy and service of the court, as would my admittedly limited political connections. Since my baptism into the blood, I have been blessed with most of the skills attributed to my clan-they too would be at your service as I know no other way than to commit myself fully to any task I undertake. Thus in essence-I offer you my all. All that I am and all I may yet become. You ask if I would dedicate myself to your ways and embrace this new path; my answer is yes, if you AND Camelot deem me worthy as I would not seek to be the cause of any strife within the court itself, and I would need to prove myself, my skill, and my mettle in some challenge.”

The brujah placed a fist over his heart and bowed his head and closed his eyes as he continued with his voice much softer, “As to your final question; though my views of authority or leadership seem foreign to you, I am certain the concept of Duty is quite familiar. I swore an oath to defend this land when I became a soldier in the Great War. I did not falter or waver in my duty to protect it even when wounded at Gallipoli. Or when I was held captive and tortured for what I knew by people who claimed to be our allies. Nor did I yield when I was imprisoned and forgotten by both the ruling governments and powers that be. If I swear an oath-I keep it. I stand before you now a broken heap of a man-though freed of my shackles, a stranger in a land I once viewed as my home. Yet my honor remains in tact and unblemished Sir Knight, of that I can assure you.”

Sy raises his head and opens his eyes to reveal a distant gaze as he says, “My interest in knighthood is simple. I believe it to be the way I may truly find a home again and to be near my fallen brothers in battle once more. Duty, honor, dreams and memories are all I have left.”

In the corner of his eye, just outside Bedevere's sight line Sy notices Colleen rolling her own eyes at the exchange and mutters under her breath

"Oh dear God what have I done..."

The aged knight takes a long moment to weigh Sy's response, seemingly lost in thought for a time.

"Duty, honor, dreams and memories... yes, I think there's something we can build upon there."

He nods his head once, seeming to come to a decision.

"Very well then. Were it up to me I'd take you on as a Squire this very night, however I must obtain the my Lord's permission before doing such a thing, particularly with an outsider. What's more, my voice is not the only one he bends his ear to; there are factions within the fair court and so I shall have to make a fight of it. Sadly, not a fight of steel and fang as I'd prefer, but one of words and whispers. Such is the price to pay for living in such civilized times as this. More's the pity. But you may be able to help me make your case, if our dear Ms. Moore will grant her aide?"

He turns to Colleen, who quickly straightens out her face from the exaggerated expressions she'd been making to Bedevere's words. She's just in time to compose herself and turn an eager smile to her Elder.

"I'll help in any way I can!"

"Splendid! In that case, this is my advice: obtain something of real value and present it as a gift to the my Lord Paendragon. I don't mean money or jewels or even vassals, something of real value that cannot be replicated to show your own worth. Secrets, skulduggery, hidden information; the more exclusive the better. Such things are the lifeblood of our kind, and to bring something of real value before my Lord would make your case better than anything else. When you have something, bring it to Ms. Moore and she will convey it to me so that we may make your case. Agreed?"

Sy having expected something similar to his request simply nods along as the knight explained the challenge before them.

Upon his turning to Colleen for assistance, Sy merely beamed and gave her a suggestive wink.

As Sir Bedevere mentions that the fight would be made with words rather than by sword, Sy seems to deflate slightly, having hoped for more traditional methods, which he noted was echoed in the Knights own words.

Upon being assigned the quest for information to hopefully aid in his entrance to the road of knighthood, Sy looks the knight directly in the eye initially but finds his gaze drifts to Colleen as he says firmly, “Agreed. I shall trust her with my future and trust you to guide my path.” He then takes and wields his cane in a manner similar to a marine sword salute and says, “To Camelot.”