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carpe-astra · 1 year

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Ice & Ghosts

Andres He's been waiting in the same cafe he'd taken Mael to, several weeks before. Sitting at a table near the edge of the small room, humming along to the lazy jazz music drifting out of ceiling speakers. There's a cup in front of him, filled with untouched tea. He's not entirely sure whether to expect his company early, late, or exactly on time, and as a result arrived nearly as soon as the sun sank below the horizon. Hopefully she'd found the note, hidden away amongst papers on a desk at a certain school. Scrawled in neat cursive on the petal of a small, but precisely-folded origami flower, "I know about your cat. Want to help. Meet me-" And the address of the place in which he was now seated, along with a time. Short. Simple. And maybe a bit dramatic. A little flair never hurt anyone.

Spektor Iocaine ‡There had been a great deal of surprise to find the letter tucked away in a stack of ungraded Geography exams, accompanied with sharp burn of emotion that she didn't have the time to untangle. Only to know that it simultaneously ached and drew forth a cold anger. Tucked away in the top pocket of her briefcase, the teacher had followed her usual steps during the day, sticking to routine nearly by muscle memory only. It was only at the end, when she was locking up her second classroom for the night as the time dwindled down to what had been listed on the flower, that she deviated. Rather than head home, she headed into the city and to the Merchant's Circle to find the cafe listed. On the way, sparing a moment to text Liliana where she was going, why, and to tell Knox. Something she would be able to find when she rose for the evening, in case something went awry.‡

‡At precisely the time requested was when Spektor stepped through the doors, but the previous fifteen minutes had been spent across the street, studying those that entered and left, and whom lingered within. For exactly that reason, her steps do not waver as she made her way to the uncomfortably familiar man, resting a hand on the back of the seat across the table.‡ I knew you were a stalker, but taking someone's dead pet is a real low.

Andres Castillo A pleasant smile is offered to the woman heading towards him, even as the accusation falls from her lips. "Hello. It's Spektor, isn't it? Or would you prefer Ms. Iocane? Please, have a seat." He waves towards the chair on which she'd placed her hand, and settles back somewhat in his own. "Is that the name you were given at birth, or did you change it? I hope you'll pardon the intrusive question, it's just… quite a name." And he waits, hands folded on the table in front of him. Either for her to sit down across from him, or to refuse the offer.

Spektor Iocaine I'd much prefer neither be spoken by you, but if you must address me, Ms. Iocaine is acceptable. ‡Rare was the day Spektor kept anything but a quiet, demurring pleasantry in place, a mask of her own that kept a great deal at a distance. Something to help keep a cap on the riot of emotions just under the cold exterior, waiting to make her blood boil into a Bloodrage. Her cat had been the last thing from her life as a mortal, and the hollow space where the bond had existed was frozen over and empty. Like his little grave. Her hand tightened on the back of the chair before drawing it out to take a seat finally.‡ It was the name I was given at my death. ‡She only needed to play nice until she had the information about Ghost, and then she could coax this Kindred outside and way from civilians, before taking him down.‡

Andres Castillo "Ms. Iocane, then." The smile on his face is entirely too warm for the strange meeting. He tries to meet her eyes, and she might begin to feel a tug in the back of her mind. A sort of out-of-place, people pleasing fondness, directed solely towards the man sitting across from her. Growing, as he leans forwards, and lowers his voice a little. "I have no idea where your cat is, or what happened to it. But that's alright. Maybe it'll turn up eventually. I was actually going to ask whether you'd like to come with me. Maybe we could walk and talk. The weather's lovely, tonight." He'd considered waiting. Chatting away with the other vampire, hinting at knowing things he didn't. But it's safer this way. He only really has one goal, and more meddling than necessary only meant more things that could go wrong.

Spektor Iocaine ‡She is looking at his face, his eyes, reading him. Judging for herself if he was lying to get to Mael, or if he really knew something about Ghost. As she studied him, she began to realize there was something… not quite handsome, because Knox was handsome in his rugged way, but perhaps acutely beautiful about Andres. She wasn't quite sure how she hadn't noticed it before, but there it was. The admission that he didn't know anything about Ghost left her frowning, perhaps it would be best to walk and talk with him as it were. It felt rare that anyone wanted to spend time with her, and much less a man. Besides, it'd let her get closer to him, which was what she wanted, wasn't it? To help Mael, but also because Andres wanted her to go with him. Spektor smoothed hair behind her ear, mouth moving into a smile.‡ Of course you wouldn't know anything about Ghost. Although I don't understand why you would lie about it in the first place. But you could explain, while we walk. ‡They needed to be away from the civilians. For their safety. Or was it because she wanted him alone? Well yes, of course she wanted him alone. Spektor rose from the chair she had just occupied, gesturing towards the door in silent implication for Andres to lead the way.‡

Andres Castillo His face is largely impassive, minus the still-friendly smile curling across his lips. An expression not quite reflected by his eyes. Taking time to study his face, she might also notice imperfections that hadn't been present the last time he'd been around. The faintest of scars, running in a jagged, but only vaguely noticeable diagonal groove across his face. An even fainter line tracing its way from the edge of his jaw, up, around to run along one part of his hairline, and connect to the more prominent blemish. They're still healing, but considerably more slowly than he'd like. Anything immediately obvious covered by skillfully applied makeup. "I hope you'll forgive me for alluding to know about your cat. In all honesty, Ms. Iocane, I really just wanted to see you." He rises smoothly from his seat in turn, and heads for the door. Moving at a leisurely, human pace, and holding the door open for Spektor. "Tell me more about what's going on with that, though. The cat's name is ghost?" He has a direction in mind, and starts to head down the sidewalk once they're both outside.

Spektor Iocaine ‡Something had happened to him. She wanted to ask, but there was a tingle in the back of her head that asking would be dangerous. He was dangerous, and she knew he was interested in stealing beautiful faces, she hoped he wouldn't ask for hers. Although, she found herself thinking, she'd be willing to give it over. Best not to draw focus, and avoid it altogether. She swept through the door he held open for her in gentlemanly fashion, pausing on the sidewalk for Andres to catch up. Tucking hands into the small of her back, the briefcase dangling from the curl of her fingers where it swung lightly with her steps as she matched his pace.‡ I suppose I could be convinced to forgive you. ‡More teasing than she had intended, tasting her tone with some surprise. A surprise that swiftly melts away.‡ You did? What for? ‡Despite being nighttime, there were still people on the streets. Those who survived in the night, or preferred it, beginning their 'day' so to speak. Bustling from businesses to business, running errands or shopping, or working.‡ Ah, yes. His name was Ghost. He was a childhood pet that I took with me when I left home. When I was changed, I ghouled him, so he would survive. My Sire… he didn't like animals, and I was afraid he'd try to kill him… ‡The words spill out before she even realized she was saying anything at all, more than happy to tell him what he wanted her to, until they could be alone.‡

Andres Castillo "Just to talk, Spektor. You caught my eye, the last time I visited the club. There's something I'd like to show you." He can't even recall whether she'd been there, the last time. Doesn't very much care. "I am sorry about Ghost. It sounds like he was very dear to you." The apartment he's been staying at isn't very far from the cafe. A few blocks down, a right turn, and another block. He quickens his pace to a not-uncomfortable stroll, stealing occasional glances at the Kindred beside him. "Hate to change the subject, but… How is our mutual friend? Mael?"

Spektor Iocaine ‡ You caught my eye. It was strange to think that after all this time, people had noticed her. She had let herself fade into the background for so long, and here was another man saying he had seen her. The smile she wore grew, then it faded as they continued speaking about Ghost. And it was nice of Andres to express his condolences, wasn't it? Her gaze roamed the area as they walked, noting the thinning crowd as they ate up the distance and made a few turns, but her attention always drifted back to Andres before long, catching his eye when he sought her gaze.‡ Thank you. He was dear, so it means a lot. ‡Hadn't there been a reason she had been angry at him before? She could hardly even imagine being upset with him now though. Whatever it was, it must not have been that important, and Andres was always so nice to her, so it must have been a mistake anyway. Thoughts shift and slide, falling to Mael. Again, a sharp tingle went up her spine, blooming through the back of her head. Her pace slowed, coming nearly to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk with a perplexed frown.‡ Mael? He's doing well… why?

Andres Castillo "Of course." The upscale, stylishly minimalistic apartment complex is within view when Spektor slows. A reminder to tread lightly. Testing the strength of the strings he's manipulating won't end well, more than likely for either party. "I just wanted to check in." He tries to let it slide without issue. "Would you mind if we made a quick stop? My apartment's just up ahead. I jotted down a bit of what I'd heard about Ghost on a paper- just rumors, because I hadn't though about ghouling pets before, and it caught my attention. Now that I'm hearing how much he meant to you… There's always a chance I stumbled across something you might have missed? I'd like to at least try to help." Shaped brows raise expectantly, but his tone remains deliberately patient.

Spektor Iocaine ‡The neighborhood is swankier than anything Spektor has ever lived in, alive or dead. She probably had enough money by this point to live in a place like this, but in the end, it was easier to find a place in the Red Light. Safer in Valentino's domain, and easier for Knox to find her. The rows of uniform houses, upscale and beautiful, were enjoyable to look at all the same. Something about Andres' response settled uneasily, trying to place the why of it. Wasn't she supposed to do something about him? Those thoughts slip away however, as he mentioned Ghost again. It really was kind of him to go so far for her, wasn't it? Making a short stop for him was the least she could do, for how he was trying to help her.‡ Oh, of course. I would be grateful to see what you might have noted. I don't mind stopping at all. ‡It was growing harder to look away from him, caught up in his gravitational allure like a moth to flame. She desperately wanted that information, with a feverous fervor that was unlike anything she'd felt before. All of that control she'd built up for so long being dismantled in an attempt to become friends, and grow relationships, and let herself fall in love, and that allowed the emotions to shine through the cracks. Ones Andres seemed to see in her, and pluck at.‡ Please, lead the way.

Andres Castillo In spite of himself, the ease with which she agrees has him relaxing. "Thank you, Spektor. You know something? You're incredibly easy to talk to. Has anyone told you that you have a knack for making people feel comfortable?" They near the building, and he pulls the door open for her again. Waiting, and stepping in after her, assuming that she moved through the door. The inside of the building was just as generically tasteful as the outside. He's staying on the ground level for a variety of reasons, and it isn't long at all before he stops to fish out keys and unlock a door. "I'm afraid I haven't had much of a chance to decorate my space, yet. So I'll apologize for that in advance." The look he gives the woman is only vaguely apologetic. "Haven't decided yet whether I'll be staying here for very long." March 1, 2023

Spektor Iocaine I think I usually get the opposite. ‡Too formal when she did talk, and closed off at all times to boot. But it was nice of Andres to compliment her like that, and she found that the annoying tingle in the back of her head was growing more dull.‡ Although I am glad to hear it. ‡She walks in through the door he held open for her, pausing when he hunted for his keys. They were alone finally, but she couldn't remember why she had wanted it so badly in the first place. Or no, it was because she wanted to spend time with him wasn't it? That had to be it. Andres was always so busy with others, and he had shown an interest in her. A distant thread of guilt crept up, and she hoped Knox would understand. And she wasn't hiding anything - she'd asked Liliana to tell him… and really, she was being polite, and Andres had so graciously asked for the quick stop to get her information, to help, so how could she even think to say no, or change her mind?‡ Oh, that's quite alright. I completely understand. Knowing something might be temporary puts a damper on the decorating and all.

Andres Castillo "Really? That surprises me." He pushes the room door open, this time stepping inside first, and waiting to be followed. The room was neat, but generally unremarkable. And notably bare. The main room, with blank walls and a carpeted floor, opens up to a kitchen. Granite countertops, tile backsplash. A short hall leads to a bedroom, and a bathroom directly across from that. As with the rest of the building, it's clearly nice, but lacking any particular personality. He despises it. There's a couch in the room they step into. And what looks to be a rectangular, white garage freezer directly across from that, where one might put an entertainment center. "You don't mind closing the door after you? Like I said, this place really isn't much. But you were right, I guess I just… Don't want to get too comfortable. I have been considering moving, actually. Soon." He drifts absently towards the couch, but doesn't move to sit down. Tracking Spektor carefully out of the corners of his eyes. Waiting, expectantly, for her to take the place in. Urging down slowly growing impatience.

Spektor Iocaine I suppose I relegated myself to the background for so long, that I forgot how to really speak with people. ‡Platitudes and pleasantries were easy enough, but the deeper, more meaningful things were harder to dig out. There was still so much she wanted to tell Knox, and Liliana, and the others, but somewhere between wish and action, everything had gotten stuck.‡ If you don't settle here, where would you move? ‡It was hard to imagine him in any other kind of place, as she took her time to study the room. It was rather empty, almost abnormally so for someone to be staying there at all. Spektor closed the door as he requested, golden eyes falling onto the freezer set up near the front of the room. Some kindred slept more strangely than the rest. Continuing to eye it, she glanced briefly at Andres.‡ Should I just wait here?

Andres Castillo "I think you underestimate yourself, darling." It's almost a joke. There's a reason he picked her to bring here, out on all of them. "I'm not sure, yet. I'll admit, the idea of just roaming for a while is appealing. No matter how many years you've been alive, there's always something new to see. Speaking of-" He catches the direction she was looking in. Exactly what he's been hoping for. Waves towards the freezer, as if to encourage any curiosity. "If it wouldn't be any trouble, that would be best. But… If you'd like, I think there's something in there that may actually catch your interest. Go ahead and take a look." He doesn't move for the hall, but waits, still standing in front of the couch.

Spektor Iocaine Roaming certainly has its appeal. ‡It seemed to suit several of their coterie just fine. Maybe as she grew older and the years passed by, the human trappings of a home would grow to be stifling. But for now, she enjoyed a sequestered place to rest her head when she decided to.‡ Sure, it's no problem to wait here… ‡Words trailing off when Andres mentioned the freeze.r The dull, almost non-existent tingling became a dull buzz, accompanied by a frown. Her grip on the briefcase tightened, but she had already begun to walk closer to it before she even realized she was moving. He wanted her to look. ‡ What is it? ‡And she wanted to please him.‡

Andres Castillo Eyes track her every movement, every expression. Annoyance prickling in the back of his mind upon seeing her frown, but there's no indication of the feeling on his face. "See for yourself. Please. Call it a gift. For being so thoughtful as to meet with me." He takes a slight step forwards himself.

Spektor Iocaine You didn't have to get me a gift. ‡Despite her demurring words, a flush of excitement spread through her. The last gift she had received was years ago from Liliana, and truth be told, looking at the violin these days was a struggle. Desperate to play the instrument, even while she could still sometimes feel the violin strings sawing through bone and muscle, and the strain of the Bloodrage clawing through her body to tear into what was hurting her. But those thoughts drift like liquid, seeping out of consciousness because he had been so kind as to get her a gift for meeting him. It must be something that needed to stay cold, because why else the freezer? The buzzing in the back of her head kept the thought circling, even as her own body reached for the lid to open it, and see what was inside.‡

Andres Castillo "Really, it was no trouble." Upon lifting the lid, she'll find the container next to empty. Save for a couple of small, opaque, vacuum-sealed plastic bags. Otherwise… It's just a silver-lined freezer. It had been a hassle to put together on such short notice, especially with his own aversion to the metal. Easier than working any other form of containment out, though. It's a fact that he appreciated vaguely, as he moves across the room in a burst of celerity, and tries to half-lift, half-shove the woman into the box.

Spektor Iocaine ‡Something didn't quite feel right, and it tried to poke and prod itself to the fore of her thoughts, but they were clouded heavily with the prospect of a gift from Andres, who had been so kind to her thus far. She was also glad that he had stopped asking about Mael, though it felt as if there was something else to it besides a strange prick of jealousy. She knew he was dangerous, every Kindred was dangerous. But the reason he was dangerous, it was just out of her reach. Looking into the freezer, she noticed the small plastic bags. They were the only thing in there, peeking through the cold swirls of frigid mist rising out of the freezer. Spektor started to reach for one of the bags, only to abruptly recoil when she realized there was silver. Eyes widening, half turning to look at Andres - just in time for him to shove at her.‡ Hey! No! What are you doing? ‡Everything flooded in at once, the curtain tore away by the imminent danger of the silver. Andres. Face stealer. Why had she followed him? Her next words disappear in a hiss of pain as she scrabbled to catch herself, fingers burning away by silver with one hand, the other trying to grab Andres' shirt, heedless if she scratched him up.‡

Andres Castillo Teeth grit, and he tries to yank her hand away from his shirt. An attempt to slam the lid closed at nearly the same time, regardless of whether his or her own hand is in the way. "It isn't the way I wanted things to go." And it's true. It would have been simpler if he could have just taken Mael's face and left. But that doesn't mean there's any particular regret attached to his actions. It's a means to an end, and the only other option would be to abandon the venture entirely. Which isn't happening. "…You'll be alright."

Spektor Iocaine ‡Every brush of skin against the silver made her burn, blisters erupting on fair flesh at even a hint of a graze. Smoke bubbling from where she touched it in acrid loops that stung the nose. She could also feel the silver weakening her, bleeding into her muscles like a sickness that drained her strength. She nearly rips Andres down with her, the slam of the lid on her arm making the bone creak - then snap with a wet sound with the silver lining. She shouted in pain, instinctively recoiling despite herself. Her shout twists and warps, growing unbearably loud with Spektor's real power. Sound manipulated from a scream, to a cold, bitter promise even with the lid closed, and the vampire locked inside to burn away from the silver.‡ "I'll kill you."

#spektor iocaine #andres castillo #vampire the masquerade #vtm #consequence by night

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letsmakerpstuff · 2 years

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Consequence By Night:

Carpe Astra Coterie Pt. 1

#back again with my vampire bullshit #the cause of my hyperfixation for the past few days #ladies first! as usual #vampire graphics #Dixie Darling #Kara Eriksdottir #Liliana Rousseau #Spektor Iocaine

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carpe-astra · 1 year

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Six Degrees of Keven Church

The Docks: A boat owned by Charles Crumby

Keven Church ::so, there's a boat. a rickety fishing boat. slightly green. or it would be if the paint wasnt chipping off. the name of the boat…who remembers? maybe something like Pearl's Promise. or Jack's Grundle. it's not like the fisherman who owns it is around enough these days to care as it sways back and forth innocuously in its docking station. or whatever REAL sailor's call it. especially late at night ::

Spektor Iocaine ‡There is a boat, and there is a woman, and the night is still fairly young as the woman made her way along the pier with quiet steps drowned by the susurrus murmur of waves. She had watched from nearly the moment the sun had sunk below the horizon, waiting to see if there would be any change. Not that there had been, which had prompted her to near the little boat and climb aboard. If he was there, perfect. If not, she could snoop.‡

Keven Church ::inside isn't much different. loose papers that don't actually say anything. some weathered maps of land, sea, and stars. a few odds and ends that an old man might collect. you know, just to remember the good old days. but nothing too personal. otherwise, a clean interior. but empty of any living thing. or unliving… near the helm, there is a sort of old radio set up::

Spektor Iocaine ‡Finding little that could be deemed useful, Spektor set everything back to rights as she had found it, reluctant to leave much evidence of her being there at all. Eventually finding herself near the radio, which goes through a short inspection. Then she clicks it on, hovering at the volume button to turn it down immediately if it was violently loud. A lesson learned from Lemaigne's vehicles.‡

Keven Church :: there is nothing at first. then static. it crackles softly, alive on some other end in the unknown oblivion. then the static ends::

Spektor Iocaine ‡She had never interacted that much with Keven - if at all really - but there had always been the thought that he was much more clever than he let on. Had to be, if he had avoided being snagged by the Tremere for so long.‡ Mr. Church? I'd like a moment of your time, if that's you.

Keven Church :: more static….:: ::then finally……………a heavy breath:: Who d'a feck are ye? An' what are y'doin in m'feckin' boat? ::he sounds a bit drunk. just slightly tipsy::

Spektor Iocaine ‡Maybe he was thinking over whether or not to answer. Or there was no one at all. She hoped it was the former, but she wouldn't have been surprised if it was the latter. Just when she was just about to give up, the heavy breath put her back into focus.‡ You may not remember, but my name is Spektor Iocaine. I work with Miss Kára and Mr. Bellerose. And I am on your boat because I have been trying to find you, in order to discuss a few matters.

Keven Church :: she would have heard his laugh if he'd bothered to press the button when he did so. but people dont do that when theyre genuinely laughing at something they find surprising. or stupid. unless they're fucking anime villains or something:: Yer f'rgettin' someone. ::fingers snap:: Dat blonde lass widda pinched face. Cunt. Ye work widdem blood pricks too. Bloody blood pricks. ::a brief awkward pause before:: Feck off. ::is added on at the very end. just in case she doesnt get the hint::

Spektor Iocaine ‡She doesn't deign to respond to the first part, instead settling back to relax while they spoke. The blood pricks were the important part here, at any rate.‡ There are a great number of things I'd prefer to be doing with my time right now, Mr. Church, but unfortunately, 'fucking off' is not one of the options I get to have. ‡A pause, considering her words before continuing.‡ I can understand your reluctance to even speak with us given what you know. But I can explain if you're willing to listen.

Keven Church Boo feckin' hoo. ::is the muttering response to her clever comment about having more important things to do. it tells him 1) he's not a significant pawn in whatever her gang's agenda is, and 2) she thinks by making him believe he's not a significant pawn that he's safe from whatever intentions she has toward approaching him tonight. mother fuckers:: Explaaaaaiiiiin. I'll be fartin inna wind while ye do. ::silence. her turn to speak::

Spektor Iocaine ‡She couldn't help but to smile.‡ Despite our working relationship with the blood pricks, we have no intentions on turning you over to them, first and foremost. Secondly, we only have a working relationship with them due to a circumstance in which their Scourge was held in the basement of Embraced for quite some time, being… questioned. ‡Adding inflection and tone to indicate the questioning hadn't been the most gentle.‡ Because of that, it seemed prudent to create that working relationship, rather than allow him to try and hunt us. ‡Straight and honest with the man, rather than trying to lead him around with her words. She presumed he might appreciate the clarity more.‡

Keven Church ::as one who is hunted by a Scourge, the very same Scourge in fact, certainly he can understand the need to work things out in a civil manner. desperate measures and all that. there's a long, presumably pondering silence without any static at all. just Spektor standing or sitting or leaning all alone with her side of the radio, waiting::

::then, once again:: Ye still dealin' widda't spooksy magic cunt?

Spektor Iocaine ‡She's taken to sitting, perhaps in some rickety old chair that Keven himself had sat in a time or two. Comfortable with the silence, though her thoughts wander. Parsing through everything she's said thus far, and hoping it would be enough. His final question is what made her realize why Dixie had liked him so much.‡ We are. But I do not think it will be much longer, in truth. We've already begun to corner her.

Keven Church ::this time he does deliberately laugh into the radio. just one, simple:: HAH. ::a few clicks:: Good luck widda't. Hells ye needs me fer den?

Spektor Iocaine ‡Kára had never made her privy to the why but Spektor had her own theories. Most of them were likely ones that Keven would laugh at, just has he had just now.‡ It is my belief that Miss Kára has seen you to be instrumental in one of her visions, in handling the Tremere and neutering them, if not removing their influence entirely. And frankly, you being receptive to showing up when we ask does a great deal in the face of a Scourge who was incapable of finding you in the first place. No?

Keven Church ::there's a very loud:: PBBBBBBBT! ::a grown ass man blowing a raspberry:: Aye. Ye gots a point. Fer a dumb hoor. Ah'll….t'ink 'bout it. Jus' keep yer crazy cunt blondes off'a me.

Spektor Iocaine ‡It's rather loud in the otherwise silent area, but she lets him get it out of his sytem. Her lips curl in, before releasing them.‡ I do try. And that's all I ask for now, Mr. Church. Is that you at least think about it. Perhaps you could stop in sometime as well, and I will make the promise that no one of ours will stop you if you decide to leave. I'll do my best about the blondes, as well.

Keven Church ::there's another breath. then the static ends. for good this time. Spektor has been dismissed in as much a way as the salty dhampir can achieve::

Spektor Iocaine ‡She lingered for some time, just in case, listening to the lap of waves against the hull of the boat as it drifted. When the static doesn't return for a time, she concludes it over. Only hoping she had said enough of the right things to bring him around for whatever real purpose the Elder Gangrel needed him for. Spektor set the chair back right, clicked the radio off, and then departed from the boat to make her way towards Embraced for the evening, and update Kára.‡

#carpe astra #spektor iocaine #keven church #consequence by night

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carpe-astra · 8 months

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Saying Goodbye

Kára Eriksdottir

-night and day bleed into one another for those who experience loss so great they can no longer feel the gravitational curse of what it is to be a living creature. or unliving. you are nothing, floating in a void of numbness. for Kara, those sort of sensations and sentiments have long evaded her after time. though that doesn't mean she is completely devoid of emotion. one moment Spektor is alone, in whatever devolved state she's succumbed to. then, she's not-

-a pale hand touches her shoulder-

Spektor Iocaine

‡She had been placed in a room, and there she had remained. At first in the bed, to heal. Still and disinterested in the world, and the people who came and went. Sustenance untouched, the few gifts given in the beginning left where they had been set on the table. One night she had shifted, found herself in the armchair, with the violin case at her feet, still open from the night she'd played. Once vibrant eyes dull, stared blankly, even when a presence made itself known. Kara wasn't the first to touch her, to try and gain her attention. Kara wasn't the first either, to be ignored.‡

Kára Eriksdottir

-a moment's more of peace, or whatever dark silence Spektor had become wrapped up in. A coating of grief so thick it hardly allows her to progress further toward acceptance. then, the hand is gone- Hannah.

I need your help.

Spektor Iocaine

‡The world is a little more kind this way, when there's nothing but the silence and the darkness. A veil of mourning that becomes both coffin and sanctuary. Nothing is quite so raw and jagged as the sound of her name in the wrong voice but it pulls her unwillingly into the present. Fingers twitch, the first sign of life in the undead, and it's cold, gloveless fingers tracing the edge of a cowboy hat in her lap.‡ With. ‡A toneless word, the memory of a proper reaction.‡

Kára Eriksdottir

A nightmare. -is the only distant reply Spektor receives from the darkness around her, the source of the voice seemingly no longer in the room. it echoes faintly from a hallway, leading the ghost of a woman toward something. but the choice is ultimately up to her. if she does find herself moving, getting up to follow the invisible trail like a stiff, sad marionette, she ends up outside. out back. in the dead of night. Kara stands in shadow, the dark tendrils of lightless motion all around her. beside her is a stack of crates, and on top of the wooden boxes is a copper bowl filled with what appears to be white paint-

Spektor Iocaine

‡A nightmare. What could be worse than this? Hands curl, then relax. Afraid to damage the hat in any way, more than it had already been. It feels like her bones should creak as she rises, but it's soundless as she sets the hat down in her spot, and follows. A shell of what was, that comes to find Kara in the darkness outside with her bowl.‡

Kára Eriksdottir

-she glances at Spektor, giving more time to study the woman and what she has become-

Do you remember his mare?

Spektor Iocaine

‡Unchanging as their kind were, there was little different. Closer perhaps, to the corpse she ought to be, and like she'd been frozen in time, she hadn't changed. Hadn't wiped away the Vitae. Old streaks of rust tracked down her face. There was nothing poetic, or pretty, about the grief that clung to the woman. The question was so out of the blue, it was disorienting. Hardly the first thing to come to mind when she thought of him, but she does nod.‡ I do remember.

Kára Eriksdottir

-she nods too, then looks out into the empty alley nightlife- She was lost before he ghouled her. A forgotten creature wandering the Dreamlands, feared by those who did not understand her. Now...-she pauses, face unreadable- Now that he is gone. She is stuck again.

-she looks at Spektor once more, eyes cold and unyielding- Now only we can send her off.

Spektor Iocaine

‡It's like she's the wounded animal all of a sudden, this idea of sending off the beast Knox himself had ghouled.‡ And how do we do that?

Kára Eriksdottir

Do as I do. -she dips her hand in the bowl until the paint covers her entire palm, fingertip to wrist. then she mutters several curt phrases, softly in some old Nordic language-

-then she lifts her eyes to the night again- Dark mare, of shadow and fear. Through ridder and under moon, come.

-the shadows swell before them. then, from the mouth of the alley, a street lamp goes out. and bright shining eyes like two small moons appear. the rhythmic strike of hooves make their way toward them. and the night mare appears, the same as she was when Knox last summoned her, riding her hard and fast to get to a kidnapped Spektor. the woman hadn't been there to see it...but by now she would have heard what happened-

Spektor Iocaine

‡A part of her, some old human sliver recoiled from the entire thing, as if she didn't do it, ignored this, it wouldn't be so final and concrete. A long moment passes before she finally coats her hand in the paint, and it's not enough to rid herself of the feeling of Knox's body disintegrating against her fingertips, the first and last time she'd touched him without gloves. Looking up as Kara speaks, she finds the bright eyes of the beast... Her first time seeing it for herself, her gaze wanders over it, taking in some last connection.‡

Kára Eriksdottir

-she says something else in Sami as the beast settles in an agitated stance before them- Born in shadow, painted by the fears of mortal dreams. Original legends describe her kind as witches, able to take the form of a pale horse. A temptress to guile men to their doom through dreams. -she reaches out and touches the black horse, leaving a hand print of white paint- Knox could see the tortured, abandoned phantom for what she truly was.

That was his gift. Seeing more clearly what was right in front of him, more than I ever could.

Spektor Iocaine

‡How like Knox it seemed to stand in front of something so seemingly dangerous, and then tame it so easily. Spektor could feel the paint drying against her palm, increment by increment. It would take quite a long time, with how thick it was. The prospect didn't bother her, if it meant not doing this. But ultimately some part of her knew that things had to move.‡ It really was. I couldn't hide anything from him, even when I tried. ‡She moved like Knox had taught her, to let the mare grow used to her before finally pressing her hand onto the dark pelt to leave a print behind too.‡ He was always so sure about it too. Like there was never any question or doubt.

Kára Eriksdottir

He loved you. More than anything. -she looks at Spektor- More than me.

You have to say goodbye now, Hannah.

Otherwise, what comes next...could fail entirely.

Spektor Iocaine

‡There are no words for what Kara says, and how could there be? Not when it feels like all the breath has been stolen from her even when there isn't any, like everything had been carved out of her chest and what remained had been left to rot. Her throat aches, growing tight while her eyes sting. A bloody trail dashed away as she finally found enough air to make the words come out.‡ Saying goodbye feels like giving up. Giving him up. I don't want to give him up.

Kára Eriksdottir

You must. -she fully turns to face Spektor. body and soul- He is dead. He died. He turned to ash, and that cannot be undone. -the horse, as if sensing and sympathizing with Spektor's pain, grows more agitated, striking heavy hooves on the pavement- We are past anger. There can be no bargaining. A long and dark depression has stolen you away from us. From me.

You have cried already. But you have yet to let go.

Spektor Iocaine

I know that. I was there. I watched that thing cut his head off. I tried to stop him from crumbling. Tried to catch all the ashes. Held his bones. I know he's gone, I know he's not coming back. That there was nothing I could do and nothing that can be done. ‡Useless, and helpless. She'd begged Liliana, and she didn't have the ability to do anything either. She pressed a hand to her face, swallowing down the thick ache as the horse expressed what she couldn't. If she let the anger out, she'd incinerate.‡ What am I supposed to do when I let go? ‡People were there, waiting... Kara, was waiting. But it didn't feel the same anymore.‡ Kára Eriksdottir

You move. You either burn yourself alive, live the way he would have wanted you to, or avenge him. But by the gods, you move.

You are not the ghost you make yourself out to be. -the Methuselah almost sounds angry-

Spektor Iocaine

‡Kara had experienced far more loss than she had, Spektor was sure. She'd almost feel foolish, if she didn't feel so damn cold and hollow.‡ You're right. Ghosts don't hurt like this. ‡Maybe in a few years.. a decade, she'd be grateful for the time there had been, but damn if she didn't wish she could feel nothing at all right then. With the hand not full of paint, she stroked over the nightmare's flank. There was an idea though. There was what Knox would likely want for her, but there was what Knox would do if things were reversed.‡ What is coming next?

Kára Eriksdottir

-whatever icy rage might have surfaced like the tip of a glacier quickly fades beneath the stony veneer of the elder. she dips her hand in the white paint again and smears another print across the horse's dark flesh- A rescue.

When I took Knox's blood as punishment for what he did to Mael, I used it in a ritual on the Diamonori.

If you remember, it turned from violet, to red.

An old Tremere ritual that would allow the soul of the blooded to transfer to the artifact if the circumstance of final death were to take place.

This is not hope. -she looks at Spektor with what looks like preemptive disappointment, as if already envisioning the woman's reaction- This is not your bargaining stage.

If he is returned...it will not be the man you knew.

Which is why we must say goodbye. Once and for all. -she looks at the horse- But it is something to fight for.

Spektor Iocaine

‡Hope does burgeon, but it's the kind of hope like a broken bone splitting skin. Jagged and painful, and it slips under the current as Kara slices out those thoughts with the precision of a skilled surgeon.‡ Who will he be? ‡Something is better than nothing, there was no refuting that. But if it was something that still couldn't be hers, was unrecognizable... well, the thought was terrifying. But something was better than nothing at all. This fragment hardly touched the grief, but it was something to fight for, just like Kara said.‡

Kára Eriksdottir

I don't know. -her gaze is far off now, watching as the white on the black horse begins to spread on its own. in the darkness, the pale flesh blossoms. the night mare returning to its origins- But there is a balance in everything.

A life for a life. A death in equal parts. -she looks down at her hand- A hand for a gift.

A relative for a loved one.

Being captured on purpose. To learn Konstantin's ritual.

-she lowers her hand again- It may be a deformity. Physical. Mental. It may be his very being. I don't know. I won't know until the very end.

All I ask is you have a little faith in me. Just for a little while longer.

Spektor Iocaine

‡There's a bitterness on her tongue. A selfish wondering of why it had to be that way. But more than that, there was a feeling that made her weak - a kind of relief that Kara had done what she had done. Spektor didn't want to let go, but there was something to turn to. She set her hand on the mare's long forehead, watching the white spread out like spilled ink in reverse. Not pulling away until the very end when she's forced to - but doing it all the same. Eventually angling a look to Kara, eyes so red, with hunger, with a sheen of raw emotion and blood.‡ I have faith in you, Kara.

Kára Eriksdottir

-she doesn't say anything more. she touches the horse one last time, but not to smear paint. she has wiped most of it off on her furs. but now she simply caresses the pale hide of the mare that has become calm as first snowfall- Goodbye. -the horse shakes it's mane, flowing with white smoke. it nudges Spektor's elbow before finally trotting off, disappearing into the night. free at last-

-she watches it go, then turns and heads in the opposite direction- Goodnight, Hannah. Get some rest. -then she's gone in a burst of speed-

Spektor Iocaine

‡The word is too difficult to say out loud, but it echoes in her head all the same despite everything. Knox was dead and gone, and what remained wouldn't be the same. And there would be a difficult road ahead to get to that point in the first place. She gave the mare one last pat before it trotted away. She wasn't certain she was quite ready to be Hannah yet, not anymore. The decision had been easy when Knox was alive, but Hannah was a softer creature that wouldn't survive what was coming.‡ Goodnight, Kara. Thank you. ‡Several minutes go by, the busy life of the district beyond winnowing into white noise. Until there's a loud shout, and she comes out of the reverie, disappearing back into the club.‡

#spektor iocaine #Hannah whitewood #knox t wilder #kara eriksdottir #vtm #vampire the masquerade #consequence by night

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carpe-astra · 1 year

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Ariel Character Write Ups

Key characters for Ariel

Valentino Bellerose (sometimes known as Valentino Darling): 9th generation LaSombra, future Baron of Consequence. Grew up as a gangster on the streets of Bristol, and was married to Lulu (aka Elizabeth). Elder brother to Dixie, they are the only surviving members of the Darling family. Previously had a fellow brother Sired by the same man Vaughn Bellerose, but he was killed. Owns Embraced and tends to be the face and planner of the whole shebang. Has alliances with the Tremere and Berkova's. Raised Alicia Montgomery from childhood, but she has recently turned on him and now is trying to murder him and ruin his life. Likes his ex-wife Lulu, but has his dalliances as they are currently separated.

Isaac Solomons: 7th generation Ventrue, is a former member of the Crusaders and participated in the Prince's Crusade (the First). Turned on the streets of Jerusalem, almost 1,000 years have passed and he has settled into the business of distilling liquors and infusing them with a myriad of blood types to suit his patrons' desires. His is the only process to infuse blood with liquor in a way that sustains a VtM vampire, and it is a jealously guarded secret. Best friends with Valentino, he also helped raise Alicia Montgomery but to a lesser degree. Has a ghoul named Britta Harwood that he protects religiously, recently discovered to have a Childe, and has a dark obsession with Vanya Berkova.

Spektor Iocaine: a vampire based on world lore and Sired in the 90s. Cannot change shapes, but has a murky reflection, has super strength and speed, and has the capability to go for great lengths of time before needing to sleep. Formerly affiliated with the Giovanni clan as the Banshee due to her sonokinetic abilities, when the clan fractured and her former partner left, she distanced herself and began to work with Aaron Ambrose who took over a splinter part of the Giovanni. She currently works for Irena Stryder at Consequence Public High School as both Geography & music teacher, and occasionally moonlights as assistant for Liliana Rousseau. Likes Knox T. Wilder.

Britta Harwood: Isaac's ghoul, and working face of Blood Oath Whiskies, the Ventrue's business. Elderly, not much is known about her yet. She carefully guards the Ventrue's secrets and often does his business and errands during the day as needed.

Mikhail Romonv: 10th generation Toreador from Russia, a formerly world renown piano maker who was Sired for his skills in building world-class pianos. Lives for beautiful things, and seems to enjoy lording over the room behind the piano. Works for Valentino Bellerose.

Vaughn Bellerose: deceased, but formerly a 10th generation LaSombra Sired by Jean-Pierre, and vampiric brother to Valentino. Was murdered in a Machiavellian plot by Lulu due to the transgression of getting her best friend hooked on drugs, and subsequently killed.

Jean Pierre Bellerose: no information is known except that he exists, and is Valentino's Sire.

Alicia Montgomery: a witch raised from childhood by Valentino, Isaac, and Britta. She worked as Valentino's assistant and Embraced's bartender for quite some time, until the attacks by Anonymous and the Ashen Witch began. After several months of attacks, the crew was led to believe she had been killed by Anonymous. The Tremere eventually revealed she was the betrayer, masquerading as both Anonymous, and the Ashen Witch. She is currently allied with Nathaniel Lockwood, Liliana's former paramour, and is intent on the destruction of Valentino and all he holds dear, for an unknown reason. Had a budding relationship with Andrew Darling; real feelings unknown.

Lulu (also known as Elizabeth Darling): a Winter Court Changeling of the Scarlet Mirror Freehold located in the RLD. Born Elizabeth, she met Valentino in Bristol, and they married. Shortly after the birth of their daughter, she was taken by the True Fae, who kept her decades. Roughly a decade ago, she came out of the Hedge in Consequence, and stumbled upon Valentino. It's unknown how their relationship truly stands, but she has been attacked by Alicia, and often helps when she can. May mention Copper Hound, Bunnie Velvet, and Willow, who are members of her Changeling Motley. Has a relationship with Valentino.

#Valentino bellerose #Isaac solomons #Alicia montgomery #Britta harwood #Mikhail romanov #jean-pierre bellerose #spektor iocaine #vaughn bellerose #lulu #Elizabeth darling #Valentino darling

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