Sheriff's manor - Culture Tour After-Party

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina grins happily.

"Very Well. Sheriff Dukes." she pauses to think. "Wha is your favourite Arthurian legend and why?"

[alanwrotethis]

Dukes chuckles.

"Well, let's forego the 15th Century French tat... no offence, I like my stories older."

He sits back.

"There was a man named Llew, gifted in all ways, skilled in all ways. A wizard and warrior, an athlete and diplomat. His father thought him perfect, and made him a wife, trapping an owl-like wind spirit in a body of flowers and transforming this entity into a beautiful woman called Blodeuwedd. She was to be his perfect and equal in every way, but she did not want to be tamed, did not want to be trapped as another man's property, so she asked her husband, Llew, who was immortal to boot, if he had any weaknesses.
"Proud as he was, he gave her a winding riddle of the only way he could die, cast in a net, one foot on a cauldron, another on a horse, pierced with a weapon forged on the Sabbath. So ridiculous was his claim that Blodeuwedd bid him demonstrate, and when he suspended himself in the net she lashed out, wounding him. He survived, and she was cursed to wnader the land, alone and hated by all manner of beast and man."
Dukes wrinkles his eyes.
"For the life of me... I can't see why she's considered the villain of that story."

He looks over at Elder Aurelia.

"Elder... pay a compliment to every kindred in the room, a genuine compliment," he says, staring plainly while drinking his brandy.

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina listens to Dukes story, attentively as a small child being told a bedtime tale. Given this choice between this one and the one she'd paid for earlier, it's clear which she prefers.

As he ends she says "thank you Sheriff. That was wonderful! "

When he dares Aurelia she smiles hugely and turns her attention to the elder in question to listen with interest.

[L .]

Aurelia raises her eyebrows slowly. Her expression falls blank while she thinks.

"Very well."

She turns to consider each of them in turn, her attention sliding over the room. "These are not the highest compliments I could pay, were I being political. These are... genuine. Things that either matter to me, or just things my hazy mind latches onto right now. Pardon that."

"Envoy Audley, I didn't think anybody could successfully court - or be courted by - Dyonisia and survive Uriah. That, perhaps, is the biggst accomplishment I've seen this year. Perhaps you were lovers before, but even then. I genuinely do find my faith restored in Cainites when I see romances that are actually... romances. That's an attachment there I know I am presuming, but I can't see Uriah sharing unless Dyonisia gave him no other choice. That is very telling to the level of bond between you and the Prince. I cannot compliment such a connection high enough. It is one of the hardest ways of pushing back the Beast, and remaining true to our souls. But there you have it. I compliment it."

"Also truly - how did you get Urish off your back?"

"Elder Hermina..." Aurelia pauses for ages. "I've never seen someone quite so able to rile up a group. You know, in a court I lived in some centuries back, that was a skill that was honed like a knife. I don't know if you're doing it accidentally, but if it's deliberate at all, even a smigeon, I salute you. You also have very good taste in Opium, and appear rather... fearless."

"Elder Keane, I tend to like Malkavians off the bat, but to compliment you: I have not met a Malkavian Elder - nor a Gangrel one - in any recent year who is both so archaic and removed from society, but also able to reenter it, and successfully. Most fail and give up. You have actually survived this court, and tonight, handsomly. While the right of us are quite familiar with Court and its tiring intrigue, you are a foreigner to it, and yet are swimming abreast with us all, just as strongly." A kind smile. "Well, for the most part. I applaud your courage in this, and wish you the best of luck."

"Durham, no."

"Architect Beaufort, it is rare to find one of the Kings able to navigate political niceties while still bearing a smile, and offering an arm. Yours doesn't look Cheshire in grin, nor false - whether it is or not. You often find your level of temperament among the Toreador. You are an excellent politician. I have found that many Elder Ventrue become these mummified edifices that just sit there with bullish force and they have no real aptitude for good politick. They use their viziers, their advisors, and sit stiffly on thrones until the dawn comes and one day takes them. I applaud any Dominator still resembling a man, whether this is a mirage or no. You play the game well, sir."

"Ancilla Stoker, I really don't know you, so much of this is based on first impression, mm? But you are unusual. You've actually spiked my interest in your line of questioning. And you haven't flipped a table or burned something with your fists, no offence; you are a remarkable breath of fresh air, a true throwback to the warrior scholars of old. I do not see that often, regretably, among the youth of your Clan, not really. There seems to be a schism forming in that ancient House. I hope it does not continue, but you are a rare bridge from the old to the new. Long may it continue."

"Neonate Jean-Jaques... if he's in here.. No? Nevermind. Ha!"

"Elder Price. I readily admit that I know very little about you. But you strike me as one of those bizarre wild encounters: a political Tremere who could even pass as a Toreador for disguise, but with magic. Very odd indeed. A very good showman, an excellent tour guide and speaker, you string tales almost as well as Elder Dukes. Or more so? Have you ever worked together? I say hats off to you for surving and flourishing in this sect. I am... familiar with the story of your Sire, and think you have a harder lot in life, to push by. But you do not let it affect you, and that is admirable. Did your Sire really burn down all of London?"

"Andross - who are you? Perhaps that there compliment enough. Dangerous, however... the silent ones. I have my eye on you. You have a very pretty face, and I like brunettes. The bookish kind, especially."

"Elder Dukes..." here she pauses for longer, with a flicker of something. "I would say I have never met someone so readily true to the nature of what it means to fight, to take action, to draw change - even at the sacrifice of what they might hold dear. It's a type of impossible altruism that makes the individual shine more than they realise. You seem to know what matters, and you take action, while others sit by and hope emptily - they stagnate into the very End. I don't enjoy people who close their eyes."

"You also have a fantastic bird."

Aurelia returns her attention to her empty cup. Apropos nothing:

"Elder Hermina, if this is how you do it? I dare you to: Kiss Jean-Jaques in the manner as you kissed your most recent lover. Whatever the temperament of that encounter was, please renact it."

[Madam Zaragoza]

Hermina will stand up and try to compose herself. She shouts out, “Jean-Jacques come here immediately! Are you trying to ignore me, or plain make fun of me?”

Jean-Jacques will appear at the door of the room, “Oui, Elder Hermina?” She strides to him and grabs his collar and drags him to the middle of the room. She gives him a huge fang laden smile.

Speaking in a very strict predatory voice, “You should know by now that you cannot just wander off like that. I have constant need of you. I hope you understand that.”

Still holding his collar she roughly pull him to her and kiss his lips roughly and passionately. When finished shes drops him and pushes him to the floor. Staring at him as she walks away, daring him to react in other way than pure adulation of her.

She will lay back down on the chaise longe.

“Sorry darling Jean-Jacques, just a dare I hope you understand. Hmmmm... “she peers around the room. “I dare you Laurence to perform a striptease and a lap dance for Durham, I am sure he will enjoy it.”

[Jerome Price]

Having meandered back in after Dukes Jerome stands leaning against one of the bookcases, his attention split between the room and the absurd range of titles that lie on the shelves. At Aurelia's appraisal of him he nods and after Hermina's 'performance', responds quietly enough for her and any other with the ears for it to hear but not enough to disturb the continuation of the game.

"Elder Aurelia thank you for your kind words. I have indeed worked with Dukes before, our performance styles are at odds but we have a fashion of making it work when required. As for my Sire, you are correct he did indeed burn London to the ground and was punished for it most properly with his final death, which is perhaps more than can be said for the sins of my grand sire."

[Laurence]

Laurence pauses for a moment, then seems to embrace the opium in his veins. Moving faster than a mortal and utilising his Potence, Laurence seats Durham in a chair that is visible to the whole room before coming to a stop in front of him with legs braced apart and hands clasped behind his head.

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve performed, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a bit...rusty.”

Laurence’s awe spreads out from his form, as he lets his tailcoat drop onto the floor at his feet. Running his hands now from his chest down towards his thighs. Slowly, Laurence unbuttons his shirt whilst standing very close to Durham, exposing a heavily muscled chest and the long deep claw marks that run from one collarbone across his chest to his hip on the other side. Taking the shirt off and twirling it around his head, Laurence tosses the shirt to Hermina.

Putting his hands on the back of the chair on either side of Durham’s head, Laurence grins. Shimmying his hips before undoing his trousers to let them fall down to puddle around his feet.

Sitting down in Durham’s lap, Laurence grinds on the Tremere Neonate. Throwing his head back, Laurence growls low in his throat. In a instant, Laurence tosses his undergarments to one side and still utilising his Celerity, mashes his lips on Durham’s.

Rising, the Ancilla grins around to the Kindred in the room before casually pulling on his undergarments and trousers, but leaving his torso bare.

“Andross, who’s your top choice for who to take to bed in this room, and tell us all why.”

Laurence grins, teeth flashing in the light.

[Bitterglass]

Durham awakens from the haze of opium he has been calmly mulling in.

"No? From you my fair Elder, I find that most encouraging. But no to what? Some exotic foray and trys... oh a lapdance, excellent." Durham grins a predatory smile.

Afterward, Durham looks impressed.

"That was most exemplary. As I think both I..." and he looks down at his lap, "and myself agree. I think I may need Jerome's slippers again."

[Jerome Price]

[Madam Zaragoza]

Hermina knocks the shirt aside as it flies towards her in an irritated manner, after all it momentarily spoilt her view.