Bath Camarilla

The last gasp of winter, biting on the snowdrops, the daffodils. Ice on the puddles, but the river runs smooth and strong.

Christine walks through the city unseen, to the river, to meet her appointment. Idly, she sings to herself:

"Nobody's fault, but mine
Nobody's fault, but mine
And I said if I should die
And my soul becomes lost
Then I know it's
Nobody's fault but mine"

Across the bridge, down the steps, to the appointed place, at the head of the weir. A plaited circlet of daisies dangles from her gloved hand, the rest of her swathed against the chill in heavy green overcoat, sturdy boots, scarf wrapped high across her neck, top hat arranged just so.

"Oh, I got a lover
I got a lover
And she can sing, oh yeah
And I said if I should die
And my soul becomes lost
Then I know it's
Nobody's fault but mine..."

Her song precedes her, giving warning to those she has come to meet before she steps out of the shadows. A smile, half hidden behind her veil.

"Well met! How do you find this evening?"

((https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucyJx_cyyM4))

Striding on ahead, displaying a longer length of her step than usual and still donning the male garb from earlier "Louis Kai's" idle chatter to Helios slowly drains to a low faltering murmur as the melody graces the air.

Continuing with softer steps, despite the crisp nature of her riding boots, she purrs a smile. Her eyes twinkle, searching for the melodies source, catching the brief hint of deepest emerald she swiftly she lowers her hood and with one gracious bow she takes off her hat in greeting, one stray ringlet twirls out in the wind as if bowing too in the presence of such majesty.

"Oh Bravo, Bravo Miss Daae," she pats her hat against her gloved hand and raises softly. Her muffled applause continues as she begins moving around her, her eyes searching the singer as Kira finally lands to lean against the wall.

"You look well-" she nods, looking at Christine's movements, "even despite the-" Kira waves her hand to the scarf, "We are incredibly thankful such has not marred the vibrant colours of your tone,"

"I find this evening a true delight, a honour too to keep landing in such delightful company," she bows her head to the singer and then turns to look over her shoulder acknowledging Helens presence too.

"I must thank you once again for this Miss Daae, and ah-" her smile brightens at the offering of daisies, "I see you have crafted your tribute," Kira pulls out a dark blue reticule; that and their necklace perhaps the only items of her garb that betray her identity.

"May I?" she asks tentatively, offering a smaller circle, the size of a ring perhaps that is brimming with daisies, balloon flowers and holds a blue violet in the middle.

Helen walks slowly towards Kira and Christine with a strong manly stride and bows respectfully, taking out her hat in a theatrical gentleman-like movement. Her voice deeper, as deeper as she can make it.

“Miss Daye, thank you for accepting our invitation. I bet many suitors are banging your door desperately for a walk with a fair maiden like you. An honour my fair Lady. My name is Helios.” There is a small chuckle but she sobers fast and straightens her posture. Chin high and proud, predatory flirty eyes and a smirk marking the Ventrue’s features. That was fun. Maybe she should stick to it and ask Harry for tips and tricks.

Christine beams at her two "gentlemen" admirers, dimpling in pleasure at their compliments and admiration. Though it's slightly incongruous, both of them being... somewhat shorter than her.

Still, it's an entertaining game.

"How lovely it is to see you both, Mr Kai, Mr Helios! I am much improved, thank you! Oh! Before I forget!"

She fishes around in her bag and pulls out two folded pieces of paper, hands one to each of them.

"Lord Black's correspondence address in London.... should you wish to write... I'm sure that you already have it! But just in case..."

She gets distracted for a moment by Kai's flowers.

"...oh! How lovely! And how thoughtful of you! Shall we make our offerings now?"

Kira tips her hat once more before returning it to her crown, a endearing chuckle illuminates her lips at singers joy to such praise.

Confirmation of Christine's improved well being loosens that little tense energy that skittered along Kira's shoulders, "Oh I am so very relieved to hear it!" she breathes sincerely, "Are there any matters we can help aid with or such we can offer to grant further solace during your healing m'lady?"

"Mmm?" she blinks, delicately unfolding the paper that was handed, "Oh, you are travelling with the Lord to London?" she asks, her eyes peering over the page, "Well, in that case," she holds the page up high, to the light, "safe journeys to you both-" she gracefully folds the page back as it was given and deftly conceals it into her reticule, "how thoughtful of you to grant us a line of contact," she flashes a smile and walks on ahead, "our noble Lord is often too preoccupied to keep all in the know. An engagement for pleasure or business Miss Daae?" she asks over her shoulder as she traverses further down the steps and closer to the water.


Shall we make our offerings now?
"I would quite enjoy that," Kira beams, crouching on her knees, "I do hope my mixture of flowers will be accepted..." she removes one glove and hovers her fingertips over the lacquered surface of the waters, "Do you feel they will?"

She stands up, returning her glove and hands behind her back, "Are there words to teach us before such an offering is to be made?" she calls, her lakes peeking from the gloom.

Christine blinks in surprise for a moment, then giggles.

"...oh, no.... I do not travel to London... or not for a month or two yet... arrangements need to be made.... I simply must get tickets to Iolanthe! But no... for the next month or so... well... I am going to go into seclusion... I feel the need to concentrate on my music... "

A soft smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and she hums to herself quietly.

....so she wandered the valleys, fields and the hills.... 'til she came to a river where she waited for her...

She too steps closer to the river's edge, her head tilted to one side as she listens to the music of the flowing water.

"...gifts freely given... " she murmurs, unthinking. Then:

"...oh... they are lovely flowers... I am sure that they will find favour! As for the invocation... I find that the words come to me as they will..."

She smiles again, wide eyed and fae, then dips into a deep and graceful curtsey, holding it for a long moment before rising. Carefully she raises the daisy circlet in both hands above her head and sings:

" In winter fire is beautiful
Beautiful like a song
In winter snow is beautiful
All of the winter long

And you, little son come safely home
Riding the tail of the wind
May you always come this safely home
In winter, fire and snow

The day gets dark uneasily
Darker and darker still
And you are gone to Carnival
And I feel the winter chill

But you, little son come safely home
Riding the tail of the wind
May you always come this safely home
In winter, fire and snow

In winter fire is beautiful
Beautiful like a song
In winter snow is beautiful
All of the winter long
All of the winter long..."

Then she casts the daisies upon the waters, her lips moving in silent prayer. Watching intently as the flowers are swept away on the current, out of sight.

Then, a sigh, and she relaxes, curtseying to the river once more.

"...thank you, my Lady... thank you... "

((https://youtu.be/2VLKIDDn684))

"Oh? Iolanthe? Is that...mmm, no not quite familiar with that piece I am afraid, please do enlighten? Is it based on a tale you know or have you been fortunate enough to hear a number of it's score already my dear?" Kira asks brightly.

"I have heard quite the buzz of a recent piece, Les contes d'Hoffmann? The poet and on the night of his diva's success, a unfortunate deception is pulled, and instead of being by his loves side, he spins tales of his three loves-all are her, all are a different aspect of his one true love, yet, as in such things, his muse 'saves' him, or fully controls him, who can say." Kira shrugs swaying from one ball of her foot to the other, "Well, there are as of yet no plans for it to grace our shores, mores the pity, I have heard a few musicians visit here from other seas and spread apparent pieces of the opera around, a few numbers have been played during rambunctious sessions at the pubs, if they are truly from that opera, I can assure you, it will not be one to be missed."

for the next month or so... well... I am going to go into seclusion

"Going into seclusion?" Kira turns her body fully to the singer, the pauses, the hesitations, the forming of phrases not at all lyrically plucked from thin air strike a cohesiveness chord with the young neonate, "That's quite a drastic move my dear, to concentrate on your music? You music is granted the forefront of attention, more than nightly my dear, she is certainly not starved. Is this another part of the circle of a muse? In your artistic journey that must always be repeated, or...?" a flood of heavy sympathy courses through Kira's aura, a sympathy that predates her question, "What has brought this on Christine?" her tone is pure, simple and sincere as it falls into a caring decrescendo.

"Gifts can only be freely given?" her voice echos, she crouches down once more, her knees near touching the stone, "Mmm, they're like love then." she murmurs, this time removing her glove and skimming her finger tips over the surface of the water fully, not a mere hover, "Anything else would pervert then, whittle them away until it's a mere favour or one sided obligation..." she stands and takes a couple of steps to the other side, the reflection of the moon still out of her reach.

Kira scoops the rivers water and returns its droplets to its surface, letting the ripples wave to Christines song. Her slicked fingertips edge to her flower ring, her offering, the blue violets petals velveteen in her wet hands caress. As the last note is held, Kira offers the ring to the waters, and bows her head low, to her knee.

And though her friends may be forgiven for thinking her eyes were closed in such a position, they are in fact still unmoving from the moons on the riverbed, and the recollections such illuminated waters stir.

"Iolanthe? It is the new operetta from Messrs Gilbert and Sullivan... currently being performed at the Savoy in London.. did you hear that they have electric lighting there? That must be so wonderful to see! Oh, but yes... Iolanthe... it is a tale of fairies and lords and love... and is very favourably reviewed! I am quite dying to see it! As is Maestra, I am sure! But all in good time Christine..."

She giggles, gaze distant, one gloved fingertip ghosting to the base of her throat and away.

"...oh... yes... Hoffman... I have heard of it... Offenbach, right? I think there was a review in the Strand a while ago... I shall have to see if I can lay my hands on a copy of the score!"

She regards Kira a moment, considering.

"We should get up a party sometime soon. A trip to Paris to the opera would be wonderful, don't you think? I'm sure we could gather enough elders to accompany us... Maestra for sure... and maybe that nice Mr Price... he is very fond of music and has a lovely voice himself... and no small knowledge either... hmmm..."

Christine smiles happily at Helen, including her in the invitation, knowing how much the Ventrue loves music. But at Kira's concern about the singer going into seclusion, she looks puzzled for a moment, and then touched. Another giggle, and a negligent wave of one green gloved hand.

"Oh, fear not, dear Mr Kai... I am not locking myself in a nunnery for the next few months! But the wanderlust is upon me, and my muses..." (another quick smile to Helen) "... are knocking quite insistently on the doors of my mind. I have it in mind to tour... and to do so I must prepare... and write... and dream... and write... and sing... and play... songs for the singer.... the dreamer... the visionary... memories for my queen... my haven in the storm... songs to ease the mind... the weight of the heavy crown... lifelines cast upon the waters... songs for the grave... songs for the living... suantraí, goltraí, geantraí... yes... yes... and we made our love on wasteland.... and travel through the barricades...."

Her quiet song fades away and she shakes herself back to reality.

"...oh... hush Christine!"

She refocuses on her companions.

"....I promised you gossip, didn't I Mr Kai? ...unless you would prefer three truths...?"

Helen walks behind Kira and Christine in a comfortable distance. She highly doubted they ever had time together without any noise, without drama or neonate councils or Elysium. But she wouldn’t know for sure. She believed the serenity of the river was soothing enough to untangle tongues and bring two spirits closer or even inspire conflict. She’ve seen it happening before with a stranger, a passenger like her who later became her friend.

Conflict was not a bad thing though. Silence, distance and unsaid words were poisonous, Helen knew that all too well, especially these days. Conflict had this powerful healing method of bringing the poison out and identifying whether it was deadly and final or not.

Listening quietly the two neonates she smiles to herself. Kira was trying to bring subjects in the surface but Christine was trying to smooth things out. But she wouldn’t interfere, she trusted their conversation will take its natural path and not stay in the surface of pleasantries.

Helen smiles behind the two kindred with enthusiasm “Never been to Paris! That would be lovely! I missed travelling, staying in on place is incredibly dull. Mr Price was living in France for a while and he knows French as well, he will be a great travel company!” The prospect of travelling for pleasure, for once, excited Helen beyond repair. But did she had time for leisure though? She wasn’t sure.

Christine’s reference to her muses makes Helen look down with a happy smile following the movement of her footsteps. She couldn’t help but being humbled every time Christine was mentioning she is one of her three muses. But she didn’t comment, just leaving this happy feeling linger for a while there while she was quietly following them and the river. There is such simplicity and beauty in those moments of happiness only a friend can provide you. Simple, untainted, uncomplicated. But she was trying not to let her worry ruin this. The fear that this night might go horribly wrong because she decided to try to bring them together.

So she just walks silently behind them, observing their surroundings and giving them some sort of privacy.

"Truly? That sounds delightful-curious how such a harsh light can play against the gentle scenery that drapes the stage, still what a feat! Are you familiar with numbers from this opera already? Perhaps we could hear a piece at our next Court? Mmm, nice to hear you have another to speak so closer of such musical passions, what aspects or numbers of the show is your Maestra eager for my dear?"

Kira nods as Christine mentions Offenbach, yet her eyes flicker with concern to Christines gloved hand at the base of her throat, "Yes, Offenbach, that is correct-forgive me for asking Christine, does it cause you ill to speak right now? Or..."

"I am assuming you have travelled to such before yes? How does the Opera scene of Paris compare Miss Daae? I do not recall travelling over seas, such a trip would be a welcome change, especially in the name of such noble arts!" she looks between Helen and Christine, "Us, our Prince and Mr Price-oh I don't believe I am terribly well acquainted at all, but you both do paint a dazzling picture of such a well learned soul,- still...who else should we bring?" she beams, bubbling, "Are there any shows that are hinted to perform in the near future that you are near certain we should never allow ourselves to miss?"

"That was not what I feared," Kira reassures, "So you are travelling? That is good-not at all the picture you painted to begin with, your voice almost trembled, of some seclusion, some isolated state, you did not sound as if it was entirely brought on by yourself is all...just promise that whatever this is, is your own choice, not some forced down obligation, please?" Her voice diminishes again, and with a couple of blinks and a snort of a chuckle catching herself Kira brushes her hand away, continuing as if such sobriety hardly tinted her words.

"Forgive me, I fear over thinking and a deep pool of paranoia must seep through my families blood ha!" she smirks dryly, before a lighter smile dances across her lips, "but if tis travelling, seeking, growing, or even mere peace above the noise to hone your own music, well, we wish you all the time you need. What a brilliant cause my dear. Where do you plan to tour to? What themes or ideals do you wish to have sewn across your concerts repertoire?"

Kira arches her back and stretches her hands over to the waters edge once more, her hat tumbles to her feet and her head rests upon her knee as she gazes out, listening warmly as the fragments of Christine's mind murmur to them both, "What memories would you gift you queen? To relive and to create anew, they are the most precious gifts to share I feel," she breathes tenderly, "What crown do you lips so softly tend to? There's more than one in your heart isn't there?"

Kira raises her head up briefly, "Ah-uh," a finger to her own lips, "Do not hush yourself Christine," Kira playfully bats her own hand away from her lips before returning to that pure, settled tone, her eyes more full then her tone would allow, "there is no need to trap such floods in this, they're merely over flow and damage the container that was meant to protect it...no, we're safe here, let floods pour to a waterfall, let the words and echos and emotions with it pour down and spread life to the flowers and life on the other side. No need to deny yourself,"

"....I promised you gossip, didn't I Mr Kai? ...unless you would prefer three truths...?"

Kira shakes her head, "No, no, no...As my letter stated Christine, I do not require such," she responds tiredly, "you speak as if you are desperate to even the scales of some non existent debt...or of this repeated offer for three truths? You offer it as if honesty rarely passes you lips?" she tilts her head, "No, I wish to speak as we would, I enjoyed our correspondence my dear and you expressed the same. We are not at court, we do not need such formality as the passing and exchanging of favours-everything that should pass between friends should be freely given, if given at all," "I would like us to become friends, not mere acquaintances,"