VtM Part One - New Arrivals

Fourier

The Prince's office overlooks LA's busy financial district. It occupies the 10th Floor of an office block on Wiltshire Boulevard. A floor that is unmentioned in any blueprint in the city libraries. The mortals don't ever see the obvious red button in the lifts that take you there. Their eyes just never seem to wander in that direction.

It's raining tonight as the cab drops Lysander off in front of the building. The instructions were to see the prince before making any other contacts in the city.

As he enters it's obvious that most of the humans have gone home. The ground floor only has the night shift security guard sitting in his booth reading today's newspaper.

Necro

Lysander glides though the front doors.

'Good evening. I have an... appointment. I trust we will not be disturbed.'

Fourier

The guard barely looks up from the paper.

"Name? Oh and time of appointment"

The notes in his briefcase stated the name would be enough.

Necro

'Name is Lysander. Appointment time is now.'

Fourier

"Is now, you serious pal?"

He sits up from his chair and looks at the log.

"You have to....oh wait....anytime....okay now it is then. Mrs Smith rarely has visitors and of course she doesn't list her office....you'll have to find it yourself buddy."

He presses a button and the lift door lights come on.

"You can go up now"

Necro

'My thanks. Perhaps we shall meet again.'

Lysander sweeps past the guard and heads towards the lift. He presses the button and enters.

Noticing the red button hidden to the mortals, he presses it and waits for it to ascend.

Fourier

As he steps in he notices the mirror on the elevators back wall, no reflection, looks like the Lasombra curse works the same in America. Should a mortal enter the lift with him. The doors have yet to close.....

Necro

Lysander presses the close door button on the lift before anyone can notice. He's willing to take the risk, it seems quiet.

Fourier

Luckily nobody enters.

The lift stops on the real floor 10. The doors open to a long red carpet leading to a set of mahogany double doors. Flanking the doors are two very muscular vampires. His Lasombra elders wouldn't do it this way, if you have real power, you don't need guards.

Jacky Smith is engraved on the left door.

Necro

Lysander exits the lift, a quick look back at his non-reflection in the mirror with a frown. 'Must remember this for future visits, perhaps I'll take the stairs next time.'

He makes his way down the hallway and nods at the guards.

'Lysander Karpov to see the Prince. I am expected.'

Fourier

Necrominus wrote: »

'Lysander Karpov to see the Prince. I am expected.'

"Go right ahead Mr Karpov" one of them says with a sneer, holding open the door into the office.

Looking in Lysander can see the Prince, hands behind her back looking out at the street. Medium build, knotted black hair.

Necro

Lysander ignores the guard's reaction. His time spent studying politics - both mortal and vampire - tells him what he needs to know.

Plus, his is not exactly the most...popular clan in the area. He nods again and enters the room.

'Ms. Smith. Prince of Los Angeles. My name... is Lysander Karpov. I believe you requested me? The Prince of Milan sends his warmest regards.'

He bows before the Prince as he was taught in Milan.

Fourier

"Courteous and following proper Camarilla etiquette...good" she says turning around. If her appearance can be trusted she was embraced in her mid-30s, African-American and a small scar on her left eye. Already a curious feature, Kindred physiology should have removed the scaring.

"You still have a trace of an Italian accent, we need to fix that first."

She steps away from the window toward a small cabinet. Opening it, there are fifteen cognac style bottles.

"Personal reserve, I've got Valley Girl, Tech Start-up prick, Gangbanger, Lawyer, Surfer dude and some from rural SoCal, any take your fancy?"

OOC: Vampires absorb traits, including accents, from the mortals they feed on.

Necro

Fourier wrote: »

"Courteous and following proper Camarilla etiquette...good" she says turning around. If her appearance can be trusted she was embraced in her mid-30s, African-American and a small scar on her left eye. Already a curious feature, Kindred physiology should have removed the scaring.

"You still have a trace of an Italian accent, we need to fix that first."

She steps away from the window toward a small cabinet. Opening it, there are fifteen cognac style bottles.

"Personal reserve, I've got Valley Girl, Tech Start-up prick, Gangbanger, Lawyer, Surfer dude and some from rural SoCal, any take your fancy?"

OOC: Vampires absorb traits, including accents, from the mortals they feed on.

'Lawyer. I like the risks associated.' Lysander smiles a little.

'Of course I'm sure you know my preferences already, Prince Smith. Bringing me here has some... risks. You did your due diligence on me, I would harbour a guess.'

Fourier

She hands him the bottle.

"Not too much, that stuff is specially distilled to help trait absorption, too much can have strange side-effects"

"Indeed I know a bit about you Karpov...had the files sent over last week. Now, you might be wondering why I wanted you. Do you know much about the previous prince?"

Necro

Lysander takes the bottle and pours himself a half glass. He re-corks the bottle and hands it back. Then he takes a sip.

'Not too much, I am afraid. I know LaCroix was killed in '04. Other than that...'

He sips again.

'Well without being too presumptuous, I know that tensions are high in Los Angeles. What I do not know... is what I can do to help you.'

Fourier

"You're right about LaCroix. Problem with LaCroix, was that he was too loud and too obvious. He had a well known mortal persona, using his original name that can be found in French military records and lived in the penthouse of a company office block bearing his name.

The security in the upper levels of his tower were ripped apart by a neonate we've been unable to track since. A few hours later, an explosion blew out that damn penthouse floor and there goes years of Camarilla graft.

If we're going to get the Camarilla back on top here, we need to be discrete and initially seem to be just another presence in the city. For that end, I needed someone unnoticeable and who's more unnoticeable than a Lasombra, it's not just training, it's in your blood.

Of course, nobody will know this. You're a Ventrue, Larry Carson, recently sired and I've set you up on the third floor of an apartment block in Santa Monica overlooking the beach. None of the Kindred in the city, to my knowledge, have effective countermeasures against your clan's gifts. You're my secret weapon, from danger without and treachery within."

She slides him over an envelope on her desk.

"Keys, cash, the necessary mortal identification stuff for authorities and log in details for our private mail server. Your username is carlarr.

I have two jobs I need help with first. Consider them a test."

She pauses to let Lysander take it all in.

Necro

Lysander takes up the envelope, letting out a whoosh of air which surprises him. He doesn't even breathe anymore!

'Larry Carson. The Americans have such... strange names. It will take me a while to get used to it.'

He sips his glass again.

'This is good. Criminal lawyer, I would guess. I'm afraid the journey over only gave me a few drifters. I did not wish to take too many risks until I met with you. For obvious reasons... And these jobs... will I learn of these now? Or later?'

He sips again.

'As for the rest, I am here to serve you, Prince. Our contact in Milan was very specific.'

Fourier

This is good. Criminal lawyer, I would guess. I'm afraid the journey over only gave me a few drifters.

"Very good tastes, no accent now if you're wondering"

For obvious reasons... And these jobs... will I learn of these now? Or later?'

OOC: Primogens are the heads of their clan in a city

"Jobs are simple enough, I hope.

The Tremere Primogen often conducts his rituals on his penthouse blacony, it's got a garden of precious flowers he apparently needs..." she rolls her eyes "...anyway a reporter got a snap of him doing it. Now there is no risk to his true nature being exposed here, but the story could make his mortal persona a laughing stock in the antiquities scene he runs in. The reporter lives in Santa Monica, Malkavian territory, so the Tremere can't enter without permission. Getting said permission would take at least a day, too late.

Ensure the pictures don't make it to tomorrow's paper and as for the reporter, make sure he doesn't do something like this again. However you ensure that is up to you.

Secondly, hospital in Santa Monica recently had a body brought in with obvious discipline effects on it. Make sure the staff don't remember it, can't report it and nobody else can access the body. If you can tell what moron left an effect that obvious, even better, or at least their clan.

They sound like things you can do?"

Necro

Lysander drains the glass, happy to have some proper nourishment after the past week.

'Yes. I think I can handle both of those issues. The reporter is probably most pressing. Embarrassment to the primogen must be avoided as you said.

Have you a phone? I have a few contacts I can use to get some one to one time with this reporter... no one turns down the chance to meet with a face such as mine.'

Lysander flicks his hair.

'One last thing. The security guard below is aware of my true name. Will this cause issues... I ask because if so I will deal with it.'

Fourier

Necrominus wrote: »

Have you a phone? I have a few contacts I can use to get some one to one time with this reporter... no one turns down the chance to meet with a face such as mine.'

She slides over the phone.

Necrominus wrote: »

'One last thing. The security guard below is aware of my true name. Will this cause issues... I ask because if so I will deal with it.'

She smiles. "First test passed Mr. Karpov"

Necro

Lysander slides a number out of his sleeve. He punches in the number contained.

'Jeff Irons.. Bella sends her love.'

OOC: Code he was told to use.

'I have need for your help regarding an issue...'

Fourier

"Okay, I see...well if Bella is asking go ahead" the voice on the other end says in a good enough humour.

Necro

'Very good. There is a reporter in Santa Monica, he is going to cause some trouble for a friend of mine. I wish to meet with him, urgently to resolve the matter. If you can provide me with information... Hold on.'

He looks up at the Prince.

'What paper does he work for? Might narrow it down for my contact.'

Fourier

"The LA Downtowner" she says studying Lysander.

Necro

'Thank you.'

He lifts the phone again.

'The reporter works for the LA Downtowner. I need to know a name, any hangouts he might have outside of Santa Monica. As I said, I wish to meet with him. If you could arrange this, it would be of great assistance. If not, a hangout will suffice and I will find him myself.'

Fourier

"Oh I know him....Gary Stevens. Major hangout would be a coffee shop in Santa Monica....ehm.....the.....Ebar, the name is Ebar. Just up from the beach. He's a bit of an annoyance, three restraining orders from minor celebrities and two breaking and entry charges."

Necro

Lysander looks up at the Prince again.

'The Ebar. Any permission needed for that area? I will learn the locales soon enough I am sure.'

Back to Jeff.

'Any way you can pick him up for me on those charges? Meet me somewhere discreet? It is of utmost importance I speak with him tonight.'

Fourier

Necrominus wrote: »

Lysander looks up at the Prince again.

'The Ebar. Any permission needed for that area? I will learn the locales soon enough I am sure.'

"You're cleared for the whole of Santa Monica"

Necrominus wrote: »

'Any way you can pick him up for me on those charges? Meet me somewhere discreet? It is of utmost importance I speak with him tonight.'

"Unfortunately not, he's already been charged for them"

Necro

Lysander nods.

'Ok, no problem Jeff. You've already been of great assistance. I look forward to meeting with you at some point. One last thing... in case he is not at the Ebar.. his home address?'

He looks up at the Prince, cupping his hand across the phone receiver whilst waiting for an answer.

'The Ebar is my next destination then. It shall be done, Prince...

Now. My contact.'

He slides the number across to the Prince.

'Don't worry I have a spare. But he may be of use to you as well if you so wish.

And the security guard... he will not be a problem I presume?'

Fourier

He slides the number across to the Prince.

'Don't worry I have a spare. But he may be of use to you as well if you so wish.

"Chief of Downtown police, I'm impressed. Bella it is then"

And the security guard... he will not be a problem I presume?'

"Not for me, but for you possibly. Your problem, Your methods, I'm observing"

Necro

Lysander thinks.

'Well killing him would be simple. But not how I operate generally, if you must know. I have a way...'

He picks up the receiver.

'Any luck with the home address? A description would be helpful too and that is all I require for tonight. Although... a search of his home and collecting some photos of my friend would be greatly appreciated.'

Fourier

Necrominus wrote: »

'Any luck with the home address? A description would be helpful too and that is all I require for tonight. Although... a search of his home and collecting some photos of my friend would be greatly appreciated.'

"1156 11th Street Santa Monica, apartment C

Can't order the search my friend. That would be pushing it."

Necro

'Very well. What does this Stevens look like? I shall handle it myself. Last question, I promise.'

Fourier

Necrominus wrote: »

'Very well. What does this Stevens look like? I shall handle it myself. Last question, I promise.'

"White, not in the best shape, beard, 5'8''

Oh and glasses."

Necro

'Thank you Jeff. Hopefully this is the start of a beautiful friendship.'

Lysander hangs up the phone.

'I best be on my way, Prince.'

He stands and bows.

'The photos first. Then the hospital. Thy tasks will be honoured.'

Fourier

"Good luck and again....I'll be watching"

The lights in the room flicker momentarily and the Prince is nowhere to be seen.

Necro

Lysander leaves this time via the stairs, taking no chances with the elevator.

OOC: Presumably he makes it to the foyer.

He glances around to see if anyone but the security guard is present.

Fourier

The security guard is present, but a homeless man is singing to himself outside near the doors.

Necro

Lysander walks up to the security guard.

'Our friend wishes you to get rid of this.... *cocks his thumb towards the door* nuisance.'

Fourier

"Well she pays the checks"

He gets up and heads toward the homeless man.

Necro

As the security guard leaves, Lysander checks behind the security desk for the appointment schedule.

He looks up again to see if anyone is looking.

Fourier

Nobody looking, the schedule is a simple punched A4 binder with today's schedule the front sheet.

OOC: Differences between VtM and D&D. Punched A4 binders vs Abomination Gods.

Necro

Zysander rips out today's schedule and pockets it quickly.

Then he steps back and awaits the return of the security guard.

Fourier

"Yeah and stay out ya bum!"

The guard returns to the desk.

"Man, what an asshole!"

He puts his feet up and begins reading the paper again.

Necro

Fourier wrote: »

"Yeah and stay out ya bum!"

The guard returns to the desk.

"Man, what an asshole!"

He puts his feet up and begins reading the paper again.

'Thank you my friend. I have another request of you before I take my leave...'

Lysander trains his gaze on the guard, waiting for the paper to drop from his eyes to establish direct eye contact.

OOC: If he looks at me - it's Mesmerize time!

Fourier

The guard looks up and Lysander's eyes go bloodshot.

The guard blinks and looks confused, he isn't totally stupefied, just open to suggestion.

Necro

'Should anyone ask you about our meeting tonight, the name you will give is Larry Carson.'

Fourier

"Another of Smith's requests I suppose. No need for the Letter of Approval, just pointless paper work. You got it pal"

Necro

Lysander breaks the gaze and nods.

'That will do. Thank you.'

He leaves via the main door and looks to hail a taxi on the street.

Fourier

A taxi pulls over.

"Hey man, where to?"