Red Light District New in Town

[Aella Krovopuskov]

10:37 pm

There was a routine when they first arrived in a new city. The abandoned warehouse on the edges of the red light district had been just what they needed, and it didn’t take long for the coterie to establish themselves as the sole proprietors. It was far from being anything special, but for a group of drifters who lived city-to-city, it was about all they could ask for. Big enough to keep themselves and their bikes out of sight during the day, and out of the way enough that no one would come looking - no one in their right mind, anyway. The rest took care of itself, for the most part.

The warehouse doors opened just long enough for her to roll her bike out, the roar of its engines carrying her down the street. There hadn’t been a chance to establish their territory yet, and she figured spending the night scouting around the area was better than working on the generator or going into town for the more mundane necessities. Everything had its place, even among the Gangrel, contrary to what the rest of her kind believed.

As the familiar neon lights of her preferred hunting grounds washed over her, she pulled her bike to the side of the street and stepped off. Aella removed her helmet, locking it in the topbox and beginning her walk to somewhere. There was no real destination in mind other than the heart of the red light district, and that was something she could smell from a mile away - even without the enhanced senses unlife granted her. It was the beginning of the night, but for a city this big that still came with already-packed bars and drunks on the street. Decades passed, and some things never changed.

The nice thing about existing on the wrong side of society from life unto death was that blending in here came naturally, something the predator in the back of her mind thrilled at. That was her other reason for being here: she needed to feed. It had been a few nights, and besides, if she couldn’t drink like she used to there was always the second best option.

If she had anything, it was time. After flashing her ID at the door, she entered one of the bars that lined the street - one of at least dozens, if not more. No one gave her a second look as she meandered first to the bar and then to one of the back tables, setting her drink down and leaning back in her chair and taking stock of the room. The rest of the city could wait.

 

[Vervain]

Opposite in a way of the back tables, where the bathrooms were down a short hall, behind doors that were thick and well fitted, to keep the stink that often lingered out.

One of them burst open with a clatter, and a cacophony of sounds, three rather distinct ones, one of which was of a person being very sick, another of someone cursing while they likely supported the sick person, and the last came from a rather out of place looking figure.

"Let him get it all out of his system! After, water, not tap, boiled first, with the meds!" Orders barked out, a commanding voice that was also mismatched, the stranger made their way to the bar in a huff. A clear view given for any around, that was paying attention.

On the shorter side, lengthy black hair up in a mussed up bun, dressed in jeans and a nice dressy teal top, or at least was probably once nice. Now covered in sick, the stranger wasted little time in shrugging off a dark brown satchel, that had a dark red cross emblazoned on the flap, to the floor. Their top came off next, balled up and tossed at the bartender, with a few furious whispered words shared. If one could read lips or had, better senses, they might glean...

Spoiler: What is said...

Threats, talk of payments, of getting the top cleaned, and more to the bartender from the stranger. More pointed words had over keeping certain substances, clear of both booze, hands, and more, at least from the bartender and any staff of the place.

Under the top, was a nice figure for one of their stature (though bra plain), not that many could admire or leer at, not with a pointed look, and a scrub top quickly pulled from the satchel to cover themselves. The scrubbed up stranger shouldered their satchel, ordered a drink, something by the looks of it on the Big and Expensive side going by the bottle.

Though the bartender filled a glass, the Stranger snatched it up, alongside the bottle, and stomped off to the point farthest from the bathrooms in the place. The wall near the back tables, most other patrons giving a wide berth, or looking away when the stranger passed.

Leaning against the wall with a sigh, drink sipped, a deep breath taken, they leaned their head back against the wall with eyes loosely shut. Something in the air about them, gave off a certain buzz, that wasn't the rather heady drink they'd taken and bottle in hand.

One that any Kindred, even those without Auspex, could pick up on.

Spoiler: In the air...

A sound? A scent? A strange mix came from the stranger that screamed of Life, like the heady winds on the open road, of crisp clean air filling lungs while driving through the wilderness. The petrichor that came after a long drought, with a soothing pitter-patter to fill a void. Enough that it might make a Kindred's heart beat, without the Blush of life, if one was close enough to take it in.

 

[Melody Bell]

There it was again... That thud, that constant and repetitive pounding. It sounded like giant's footsteps as the great beast descended its mountain, or wherever such a creature lives. It was getting closer, and Melody found her eyes slowly opening and the distinct blurry haze of hangover greeted her.

"Come on!" The loud pounding continued after a man's muffled shouting.

The door to the bathroom shook and more shouting came through. "I need to take a shit, goddamn it!"

Mel leaned forward, and nearly fell off the toilet but thankfully the tiny and rancid bathroom was no bigger than a single stall so her outstretched arms reached the besieged door and stopped her fall. Though unfortunately combination of an uncomfortable posture and the distinct hangover caused her to hurl up whatever booze and hot wings yet remained in her stomach. "Fuck..." she wheezed the curse, and barely managed to take a stand.

The next battle was bringing her jeans and underwear back up around her waist, and thankfully the victory came just in time as finally the bouncer picked the lock and threw the door open. "Okay, come on." He forcibly grabbed her by the sleeve and dragged her from the bathroom. Meanwhile, the man who had been waiting to shit covered his nose and nearly added to the pile of vomit himself.

"Oh, fuck that..." He withdrew.

Would it be that Melody hadn't been tossed out onto the curb by this point, she might've had some measure in satisfaction that she ruined the asshole's day. Instead, she found herself drunkenly walking down the row of bars and clubs that lined the seemingly endless street. The powerful roar of a motorcycle's engine was perhaps the most distinct song on a city street, and naturally drew Mel's attention when it pulled up to one of the bars. By sight of the bodily silhouettes that covered the glass windows like blinds, she suspected that a hell of a party must've been within.

After dodging three cars and nearly losing her ID to the bouncer's 'I'm keeping your wallet' joke, Mel finally made it inside the bar.

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

An ocean breeze stripped the sidewalk of discarded wrappers and bags full of mortal filth - their contents scattered across the concrete lawns of the weatherworn tent homes occupying the next block down. The groups of mortals outside pulled torn jackets and stained scarfs over themselves, most shielding their nose against the festering smell of shit and oil that this city had long since given up trying to fix. But as the breeze passed their brows raised and their eyes shifted upwind...something else was on the air. Tobacco and hibiscus slipped like a dagger through the rot of sewage and human indecency, followed closely by a set of emerald eyes and a pair of mahogany Oxfords. Elias Baker followed the scattered filth as the wind ferried it down this river of human suffering he found himself in, his eyes passing slowly over the drowning souls of modern Phlegethon.

He wondered what sort of idle hands led a mortal to lay in such a state, their feet barely above the snakes and their lungs full of toxic air. Was there any lower a state they could be guided into? It seemed that every Sodom had its Gomorrah in these modern nights - and there was no shortage of mortals willing to trade their souls for earthly pleasure. It took the good sport out of hunting when a boar through itself belly first on a platter and crawled to you.

"Excuse me, sir" a weak voice called from the other side of the street. Elias stopped, turned and gazed through the shadows as if his eyes were lit by some unholy fire. It took only a moment for him to spot the owner of the voice - a mortal man with bronze skin and deep ridged cut into his face, but they were from hard life lived rather than age. The man was sitting beside another, both of them crowded around what looked to be a propane space heater that'd seen its golden years sometime in the 90s. He couldn't have been any younger than Elias had been when he become embraced and his eyes were glued to the black, cotton layered jacket the Kindred sported.

"Could you spare something for an old veteran?" too bad his blood smelled so...stale. But he could still have his fun.

It was easy to not miss a beat of heart as Elias turned and strode towards the man with a warm smile painted over his cold, petrified flesh. "Well what kind of man turns blind to a soldier in need?' Elias' voice ran like a river of smooth whiskey over honeysuckle hills as he reached into his back pocket and withdrew a black leather wallet.

"I'm no yellowbelly myself - I served my country a time or two in my day" Elias watched the man's eyes let up at the sight of the wallet and the man beside him looked baffled, but he leaned closer despite.

"Me too, sir, if you can spare it?" Well then, it was time to see if the wretched could sink lower into the boiling blood.

"Well now, gentleman, I'd love to but seems to me I only got..." he made a show of flipping through his wallet before pulling out a stack of one-hundred dollar bills, "a buck fifty? Maybe two...don't know if that's enough for ya'll to share."

The two men nearly leapt to their feet, their hands rubbing together against the cold. "Oh bless you, sir, bless your soul I-

"Now hold up now, I didn't say I was giving it to ya" waving the money like a newspaper at a dog, Elias chuckled warmly as if he was genuinely surprised, "I gotta buy something from ya."

Confusion came across both their faces and both of them looked down at their torn clothes before the veteran reached to pull a stained scarf from his neck, but Elias waved him off with a hand, "Nah boy nothing like that...your friend there. Hit him."

Both men looked at one another and the second man's eyes went wide as he stared at his friend. Then, almost innocently bless his soul, the veteran threw a childish punch that barely impacted the second man's arm. Elias laughed, "Nah boy not like that...I mean hit him" the kindred was looking right in the second man's eyes now, "break something. Give him Jesse, beat him bloody into the street right here. Snap that weak little spine of his, maybe 'till he can't walk."

The shock of the moment was rank on both of their filthy, mortal bodies. Something close to a thrill ran its claws through Elias' gut and he used it to suffocate the growling beast in his gut. Not much to his surprise, however, the veteran turned back to him with a mix of salt and venom.

"You sick fuck" suddenly Elias was very hungry and that familiar growling returned in his gut.

But these two smelled like rat meat at best, so he shrugged and tucked the money back into his wallet, "I thought not" he turned over his shoulder at a glowing sign of a bar the next street over. Something good to bring back to his temporary home on the east side, no doubt. "Guess I'll go spend my money elsewhere, night boys."

Elias' departure was accented by the hollers and curses of his left behind friends as he strolled through the night. The bar was, admittedly, much nicer than this side of town deserve - but it was still little more than a hole in the wall. The bouncer immediately gave him a sideways stare, looking him over like he'd just seen a dog hatch from a goose egg. He didn't make mention of it though, flagging the overdressed kindred through the door at the flash of his fake South Carolina ID.

Then there he stood, tall in the doorway just behind a stumbling drunk of a woman.

 

[Aella Krovopuskov]

There was an electricity in the air not unlike just before lightning struck, and Aella followed the source from the bar to the back wall, watching the stranger with quiet curiosity as the crowd seemed almost to part for them. Out of place was an understatement, and Aella didn’t need her extra senses to pick up on that. Doctors weren’t exactly a common sight in places like this - or rather, not any she frequented to any degree. Admittedly she’d seen far stranger in her time, but that wasn’t what kept her attention. Huh. Not quite human, but not quite not human, either. Last she checked there weren’t many middle grounds left. Not exactly the type she came looking for, but maybe…

The door opened before she could finish that thought, and from her vantage point in the corner facing the entrance - an intentional choice, for reasons like this - she was afforded a clear view of the new arrivals. One was human and, by the looks of it, this wasn’t the first bar she’d stopped at tonight. She watched her for different reasons, watching her just long enough to memorize her face as she walked past, quickly being swallowed up by the growing crowd as the night pressed on. Plenty of decisions, all to be made a bit later into the night, as senses and awareness were further dulled by indulgences mortals could still take part in.

If she still needed to breathe it would have stopped at that moment for reasons far more base than anything conscious. Predators recognized each other before anyone else in the room, and the growl that emanated was everything but physical, her Beast baring its teeth with ears pinned flat against its skull. This may not have been established territory yet but it was as good as, and she didn’t take kindly to any interruptions. Too many hunters in one woods spoiled the hunt for everyone, and she’d gotten here first.

Leaning back further, she kicked up her boots on the table, habit bringing a cigarette to her lips and lighting it. Not like the taste changed much, and besides, it was more for its own sake than any kind of addiction anymore. Exhaling smoke, Aella kept her eyes firmly on the man as he stepped further inside, knowing he’d sensed her even before he walked in the door. That was the thing about being dead, you got awfully good at picking out the others that were just like you. Too bad they all tended to congregate in one place.

 

[Vervain]

Not the best place to catch your breath, or for a moment of quiet, the Doctor didn't get long to relax after the annoyances in the bathroom. A single eye cracked open to see the new people trickling in, and at the sight of someone (Melody), that clearly had a few too many.

On a normal night there were a dozen different ways for one to get snapped up, especially in that state, and the Doctor decided to take a nip at her. Drink downed like a shot with barely a flinch, a quick stride, a few jabs, and bottle on occasion perilously close, to being a blunt force object, they bee lined towards her.

"Hey, you here to meet up with friends? Or maybe make some new ones? Could use a hand with this-" Tone pleasant, that slid over like silk in a slight shout, to make it's way through the bar's din. The Doctor waved the bottle in hand in front and above their head, a finger loosed to hold the empty glass, and let it all catch attractively in the light. "-and any snacks I order."

A hand offered out, to shake, and or help lead Melody to a table, there was an odd effect about the Doctor, just from being around her.

Spoiler: Life at Work...

The smell of vomit and other ills seemed to lessen, a literal breath of fresh air, like the most natural perfume wafting from them. Any hint of a headache, dizziness, alongside any number of unwanted drunken effects all seemed to lessen, and leave Melody possibly feeling on the more perked side of things. To leave one in that happy buzz, rather than the terrible tipping point, that often led to woes in the morning.

(Such a feeling would fade fast though, if the Doctor left, and or Melody stepped away.)

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

Without a mortal sound, Elias paused just behind the drunken woman as she stumbled her way into the bar. Her feminine figure could make a sunrise blush and he caught himself with a smile as he studied her. She was a fine looking woman and a century or two earlier would have been enough for him to make her direct acquaintance...but the slushy of cheap booze she was on did nothing to mask the lifestyle she led. He could smell it on her blood as easily as the beer on her breath. She was an intellectual, just high enough in society to be over other mortals...well at least at one time she did. Regardless she wasn't what he craved.

Good enough for a mortal's loins, but not enough for the higher creatures stalking the watering hole tonight.

A sudden electricity filled the air as another female figure entered the fray. Elias couldn't help but raise a brow at the newcomer as she approached. Not bad on living eyes...but something was different about her. Her blood was thick with something he couldn't place and he could feel the claws of his beast dig into his gut as he whiffed it. But the night only got more curious from there as felt the eyes of something else in the room and this one smelled all so familiar.

It smelled dead.

It didn't take long for his emerald eyes to spot the other Kindred lurking in the back of the bar, feet kicked up on a table as she pretended to smoke a cigarette. Her eyes burned holes in him and he could tell her beast was stirring inside. Oh she liked him just as much as a pig liked the slaughterhouse - he must have stumbled upon her hunting ground. Inside his beast grinned a toothy grin.

Show her who is in charge now.

Side-stepping the drunk woman and her very interesting friend, Elias nodded his head kindly to both of them, "I'm terribly sorry to barge past you two fine ladies" his voice slid through the air like honey as he passed, "both y'all enjoy your evenin' now."

He didn't make a show of staying near them. He made his comments and pressed onwards. He flowed through the crowds in the dinky bar with mechanical precision, stepping past around and behind without once having to pause. Eyes turned towards him every step, but not for his reflexes...he was out of place aside from the one or two blazers sitting around on barstools.

"Well now, if I still needed a cool drink you'd be it" Elias said in that Johnny Walker charm he always wore as he pulled a chair out from the opposite side the kindred, "place like this must keep a fine creature like you full as a tick."

He hardly expected the welcome to be warm, but he needed information on what was going on in this city. Needed to start building himself up, no need to come over disrespecting the girl.

After all it was like his daddy used to say, you get more flies with honey than vinegar.

 

[Aella Krovopuskov]

Over the years she’d been approached numerous times in numerous bars by numerous men, so to say she was used to it would be an understatement. Still, Aella had to admit his approach was a new one, and if it weren’t for what he was maybe she would have expressed a genuine interest. As it was, well. You didn’t take your eyes off a snake in the grass unless you wanted to get bit. So she kept her eyes on him, exhaling smoke and letting the haze cloud the air between them. It had been a long while since it had been another Kindred who approached her.

Inside, her Beast paced back-and-forth not unlike a caged animal, flashing fangs as it stared down his own. It waited, almost patiently, for him to toe the line just a bit too closely. By its standards he’d already done so by this point, but the strange sort of relationship she maintained with the creature was enough to keep those baser instincts at bay, at least for now. Not that she didn’t entertain the thought, but she could sense he had age on her, and it would be dangerous to assume whether that meant a handful of years or a few centuries. That, and there was the masquerade to maintain.

“Right." He’d been right about the lukewarm welcome, at least. “Place like this doesn’t really seem like your kinda scene. Think you might fit in better on the other side of town.” A beat passed, and she continued speaking through another cloud of smoke, “No offense.” The refined types that lingered in places like this didn’t usually last very long, but there were always exceptions, namely if the individual in question wasn’t alive.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, and there were already more less than human beings here than she tended to cross paths with in the average month, her coterie excluded. That meant more competition, something she didn’t take kindly to. Maybe this hadn’t been the best stop on the map, but she wasn’t about to pack up and move now. Pride and sensibility stopped her from doing that much. Still, it didn’t mean she had to be happy about her new neighbors.

“Places like this usually do. Can’t speak to this one, though. Only been here a few nights myself.” Enough to have a decent lay of the land, but nothing more than what lay within the red light district itself, and even that wasn’t mapped out to a great extent. She’d gone out in part to help with that, but it seemed her errands for the night would have to be postponed. “Guessing you must be, too.”

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

Somewhere deep in his gut, Elias could feel the claws of his best dig in and the hungry lick of its lips drag across his spin, yet his kindly smile did not break as he looked down his new acquaintance. "Well now, young thing, in my day half the places to get a drink weren't half as nice as this little hole here" leaning back in his chair, Elias threw his right leg over the left and folded his hands politely in his lap, "don't women still appreciate the sight of a well dressed gentleman?"

Just then the scent of something fresh filled his nose and his gaze dragging across the room veiled in smoke and mutters until finally coming to rest on a young waitress. Burnette curls splayed out like an electric shock from a messy bun tucked against the back of her head and her eyes carried the deep, purple bags of a long night worked - but that didn't detract from the sharp, ovular beauty of her face or the appeal of the teal V-neck she wore with her pair of ripped jeans.

Elias' beast stirred...it could smell her blood from here.

"Speakin' of..." Elias said absently before waving a hand to catch the waitresses attention. She tried to hide the roll of her eyes as she came over and put on a smiling face, "oh well now darlin' if you don't look right tired. Hope its no trouble if I asked you for a whiskey, Southern comfort if you got it - otherwise I'll take whichever folks around here seem to like"

She raised a brow, looking between the worlds apart that sat together at the table. But she didn't mention it as she nodded and let Elias know she'd be right back. He didn't miss her turn for a second, curious glance. It wasn't attraction, not yet, but he could work with curiosity. He had time after all.

"Pardon me, my appetite is getting the better of my manners" Elias straightened himself and looked back to his conversation partner, "seems to be that this city is a popular place for newcomers. Can't help but wonder what brought a dame like yourself wandering up this way...oh but how rude of me"

Leaning forward Elias offered a hand and a toothy smile, "I never introduced myself. Elias Baker, folks back home used to call me Old Dixie. Don't bother me none which you use, darlin'"

 

[Aella Krovopuskov]

It was always weird watching other Kindred hunt. Aella remained silent through his exchange with the waitress, watching her as she walked away. Certainly not the type she would have gone for, but she supposed the older ones didn’t have the taste for the same lifestyle she’d once led. Sure, it never was quite the same drinking the blood versus taking part yourself, but second best was better than nothing. Made it less of a cat-and-mouse game, too.

For a second she paused as he introduced himself and held out his hand, finally swinging her feet off the table and shaking his hand. He’d notice two things: the odd point to her black-painted nails that spoke to something more than just another manicure, and the stylized, black-and-white tattoo of a single wing on her forearm. Both things of little note, but when the survival of your kind depended on the details, you got awfully talented at picking up on things that didn’t matter. “Name’s Aella.” Her last name was unimportant and unpronounceable for most, so she didn’t bother.

His grip was firm, almost overbearingly so, hands rough and calloused from - if she had to guess - a life that required a lot more work to live than her usual day-to-day. That, paired with the accent...well, she had a few guesses, at least. He was awfully far from wherever home had once been, but she supposed the word held as little meaning for him as it did for her anymore.

“This isn’t my first time here. Just my first time this far north.” Being terminally nomadic meant you likely crossed state lines more than once, and she’d seen her share of southern California. Nothing about it had endeared her particularly, but the north may as well have been a different state for all she’d seen this far. ‘Least on the other side of the state they’d been mostly left alone. “Seems like you’re a lot farther from home. What is it, Virginia? South Carolina?” The American South had been one of the first places she’d ventured with her new coterie, and what she saw she didn’t mind.

Her cigarette had burned itself down to the filter at this point, and she let it fall into her beer bottle. Not that she could drink it anyway, even if she’d wanted to. It was one of those things she couldn’t imagine getting used to. “What brings you out here? Can’t imagine it’s the scenery. Or the people.” Her smile was just as sharp as his then, and she leaned back, crossing her arms.

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

The claws of his new acquaintance - and oh yes he knew exactly what they were - dug into his arm as they shook, but there was no pain and he took the brief moment to study the ink cut deep into her arm. A black wing spread wide across her forearm, feathers patterned like the scales of armor set to defend her at a moments notice. Back in his day tattoos, when you did see them, were not nearly so refined and detailed as the art that decorated her sleeve - but by the looks of her she may have had it done with piss and charcoal when she still breathed.

As their two hands came apart, Elias smiled at her and made a show of gazing at the wing laid across her arm as she withdrew, "well now, that's quite the mural you have there - must a hurt something awful"

Leaning back in his chair the Kindred smiled at the other's conclusions and tucked his lip before giving her a nod of approval, "clever girl - always knew you Gangrel were sharper than those folks back in Europe give you credit for. You are Gangrel, ain't ya?"" it wasn't a hard guess, there were a handful of clans who'd be caught dressed in the skin of a hooligan - and the claws adorning her hand were a clue as to which she belonged, so he spoke with a certainty.

"You are correct, anyway. My father, rest his soul, was a Massachusetts man 'fore he moved my mother and him to South Carolina - chasing British money" at that moment the waitress returned with the whisky, setting it gently on the table to which Elias smiled and was sure to catch her eyes. The mortal would feel and sense nothing, but Aella would feel the rousing ever so gently and see the slightest shift in his eyes as Elias roused the beast and blood to mesmerize the woman and incept a message deep into her subconscious.

"Thank you darlin'...I like you, you're right pretty...I think we should go some place after your shift, you'd like to go somewhere with me wouldn't ya, darlin?" there was a sudden vacancy in the girl's eyes as the thought slithered into her mind, poisoning her thoughts...then she was back with a deep blush and a giggle

"I um...get off at midnight" she said, placing a soft hand on Elias' shoulder and returning to her work, at which point Elias turned back to the Gangrel,

"I do apologize - but the selection here does do wonders on a parched man. I'd be worried about accusations of poachin' but now...well that's why I'm here. I heard there weren't many people 'round these parts to poach from anymore. Was hopin' you could clear that up for me."

 

[Aella Krovopuskov]

It was easy to forget she had tattoos, especially considering it had been over thirty years since she'd belonged to the gang whose symbols she still had inked into her skin. Aella shrugged off the comment, possessing both more extensive body modifications along with no desire to pry into the details of the life she'd led before this one. Besides, he likely cared as little for those details as she did for any glimpse into the particulars of who he was. But if they were going to share a city, and he insisted on frequenting their side of it, she would listen.

His backhanded compliment was ignored in turn, and she swallowed a retort that would cause more problems than anything else. She just listened until he finished speaking, watching his exchange with the woman with little regard now that she knew his intent, letting her gaze wander instead across the rest of the bar as she pondered her own choices for the night. That was interrupted when he stopped speaking, meaning he expected an answer.

"Gangrel, yeah." It wasn't often she gave thought to her clan. None of them had cared for politics long before they formally left the Camarilla, and ever since her Embrace she hadn't bothered to delve into it. She knew enough to get by in their society, and happily kept it that way. "You're what, Lasombra or Ventrue?" They were the only clans she could think suited a man of his disposition, not that she had much stake in which he was. All of them had a distaste for her based on bloodline alone.

Truthfully, Aella would have liked an answer to his curiosity as much as he likely did. Unfortunately she hadn't been able to find any before they rode into the city. "Don't know. The Nos I do know aren't sure either." She could hazard a few guesses, one of them being that whatever Prince had ruled the city was out of the picture.

"Maybe the Prince is dead." She shrugged. "Not my business 'til he comes around." For a moment she watched him, "You don't strike me as Camarilla."

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

Elias took up the whisky brought to him by the waitress and swirled it beneath his nose, the caressing scent of oak barrels and honey making themselves at home in his mind. Whatever it was that he was brought was not his usually preferred drink and, if he had to guess, it was Jack Daniels - Tennessee Honey Jack, to be precise. That kind of poison wasn't brewed in his time, far from it, but he made it a habit to not let the world completely pass him by...even when it came to swill like Jack Daniels. If he planned on drinking from anyone tonight, it'd better be better than swill running through their veins.

He was quiet as Aella explained that she was as clueless as he was about the state of Santa Noche, not that it was too surprising to him. Even if she wasn't new to the city he hardly expected a Gangrel to forthcoming with any information they might have...though from his experience the Nosferatu did Gangrel thinking for them. Her words didn't dissuade him from that track of mind, but that was okay, he was a kindred of vision and he knew every puzzle piece had its part to play.

For now, he knew on thing for certain and it was that he couldn't trust her - not until he knew for certain she wasn't loyal to the prince, but Gangrel rarely were loyal to much in these modern nights. "Looks are deceiving - I could be one of the King's mighty men, sent to scare poachers out of the royal huntin' grounds" he said with a self-satisfied smile, "but I will give you the win of my clan, Ventrue and have been. Though I guess that would hardly be surprising to someone so sharp nosed as you."

Placing the glass of whisky to the side, Elias placed his head in hand and raised an eyebrow, "so what brings a Gangrel to a place like this? Figured most of you for the types who enjoyed living with lupines out in the countryside".

 

[Aella Krovopuskov]

The distrust was mutual, and even if he wasn’t Camarilla she still wasn’t keen on being too honest with her new acquaintance. No clan had ever gained the trust of her own, and even they couldn’t stand each other most days. It was easier and safer to keep everyone at arm’s length; gang life, at least, had prepared her for that much. “Don’t think we’d be talking if you were.” Aella had never interacted with them personally, but she’d heard enough secondhand stories to know better. Death didn’t change their type much.

It was difficult to tell if his curiosity was feigned or not, but given the reclusiveness of her clan she figured odds were he didn’t know much. Not that she knew much more, considering that her coterie were the only Kindred she’d interacted with on a consistent basis for the duration of her unlife. “We’ve adapted. Kinda like coyotes, yeah?” Comparison to animals wasn’t something she was unfamiliar with, and it was something she figured his clan likely did anyhow; might as well lean into it.

“Thought you’d know what was going on with the prince, being Ventrue and all. You types tend to keep an eye on politics.” Given the apparent vacancy she could only take a guess at what his intentions were, but doubtlessly they weren’t particularly noble given the typical ambitions of their kind. She’d be the last one to stop him. A prince was a prince, it didn’t much matter which faction they belonged to. So long as they left her alone, she didn’t have much to complain about.

If anything, a Ventrue prince would be more par for the course.

“Never did say what brings you all the way out to California.” She would press the issue, only because his answer would inevitably decide the course of the evening - though she wasn’t exactly expecting him to be honest. “Big change from South Carolina.”

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

"A few centuries of the South begs one to find new scenery" Elias answered with a casual dismissal, "things are harder to come by for our kind nowadays. It's a dangerous business to telegram and call one another, so all I had to work on was rumors from passers-by...figured since I was lookin' for a change anyhow that I might as well come out and see if the rumors were true."

And rumors they were abound back home. There was a lot of talk that the U.S government had partnered with hunters - some had even started calling it the Second Inquisition. He wasn't sure how much of it was true, but certain incidents had convinced him that staying put was no longer a safe gamble. Not like he was gaining anymore headway in Charleston anyhow.

"Maybe we can help each other" Elias suddenly said after a moment of silence, his legs uncrossing as he leaned toward Aella and offered gentle gesture of his hand, "you and yours sound like the types who get around the city, probably will hear or see things from time to time. I'd be right grateful if you happened to bring any interesting findings to me - and of course I'd offer my help in kind. My roots run deep and I'm sure I could find some way to pay your...kindness back."

 

[Aella Krovopuskov]

A change of scenery, sure. Aella half believed him, but she knew those that were lucky enough to live as long as he did weren’t the sort to do things without a reason. Uprooting your life became more and more difficult the longer you survived on whatever plane they existed on, and traveling on a whim was no longer an option for most of them. He’d seen something here she hadn’t yet, and that was enough to put her on edge. She didn’t believe in a lot anymore, but when ancillae moved it paid to watch where.

But apparently he wanted them to stick together, at least for now. She made no attempt to hide the suspicion in her eyes as he made his proposition, not moving when he leaned forward. Everything about it felt off, and she was inclined to trust her gut over anything he had to say. Four decades on the streets had honed her instinct to razor sharpness, and it cut right to the center of whatever deal he was trying to cut. In life she’d been screwed by agreements like this, and it was a helluva lot more dangerous to fall into the same trap in death.

Finally she leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Uh-huh. I’m sure you’ll let it slide that I don’t trust any of that,” She waved her hand to indicate his proposal, “Maybe you aren’t looking for anything but help, but that isn’t how things work where I’m from.” She was beginning to see the snake in the grass she’d seen when he entered the bar, and she didn’t like it. Venom burned, and she wasn’t looking to get bit.

“Guessing by ‘interesting finds’ you mean anything about the Prince and his court.” Spoken like fact, a guarantee she was willing to bet on, “You’re gonna have to define what you mean by payback.” And it had better be good.

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

"Well now, a gentleman never reveals his hand at the table..." Elias waved his hand dismissively, but a sly smile slid open across his face as he leaned deep into his seat and steepled his hands, "...but I suppose I could give you a hint as to what I could offer. Something as simple as mortal wealth is easy, or maybe you need some strings pulled in the government? All these things are possible with my connections, but do be aware...my strings are limited. You'll have to choose your favors wisely - because pulling one string may retract another."

What he was even willing to do for her little band of misfits was to be determined, it would be a waste to use up his best resources to buy whatever meager information they might dredge up for him. There wasn't any harm in letting her think of his roots as limitless for now, though he doubted she would believe it truly. It was better to keep his potential vague regardless, the last thing he needed in the early nights of his stay was for some Gangrel to stick her dirty, mongrel nose into his business.

"Prices are negotiable, aren't they?"

 

[Aella Krovopuskov]

His elaboration didn't do anything to quell her suspicions, and if anything only roused it further. Narrowing her eyes, Aella leaned back and crossed her arms again, considering him. Chances were he was lying with every word he spoke, but even if he did have these connections he disclosed so readily, she wasn't inclined to believe he'd use any of them on her. It was never as simple as tit for tat, and most of the time the person you were doing favors for ended up burning you in the end. Whatever favors he had to offer, she wasn't certain any of them were worth it.

"Negotiable, sure." Shrugging, she glanced behind and around him briefly, making certain no one had gotten too close for her liking. Gangrel or not, Camarilla or not, the Masquerade still needed to be maintained. "Guess we'll have to wait and see what you have in mind. Can't name a price until I know what I'm up against." That, and she had a feeling he either wouldn't come knocking, or that whatever he needed her for would be far out of the bounds of what she could imagine at the moment.

Her gaze broke from him again, and she ran her tongue over her teeth. It was about time she got around to what she came here for. Looking back to him, she slid her chair back from the table. "We'll talk later, I'm guessing. I've got my own plans to worry about tonight." The waitress he'd been speaking to earlier was making her way back around, and she took that as her cue to leave to hunt for herself. "Keep in touch." Rapping her knuckles on the table, she stood and began making her way across the bar.

 

[Elias Warren Baker]

Elias' smile held in stasis as his eyes followed her up from her chair and around the table, her own gaze set on some unseen target behind him. A low, almost lifelike, chuckle escaped past the old gentleman's lips while his eyes began to wander the bar in search of his beautiful, chosen meal. "Don't you worry about that, darlin'. I'll be around soon"

He left the ominous mystery of his words sit where they were - preferring to leave its nature as either a threat or some age-borne oddity to the imagination. He stood from his chair, locked eyes with the waitress coming off her shift and smiled at her. A few words of fake encouragement, a touch of a hand and a hypnotic gaze shared. Then, with arm tucked against her waist, Elias shuffled out of the door and into the night air where her car awaited.

Maybe this town was going to shape up to be interesting after all.