The Fifth Council of Neonates

[Eric Lunaris]

The laughter came out before Eric realised it was meant to be funny but he rolled with it anyway. That kind of laugh that lasts two seconds longer than it should.
"Anywhere will do ma'dear. Anywhere indeed." The sword was held firmly in Eric's grasp, in a relaxed guard, and not going anywhere.

[LittleBird]

Her hands flicker along the runes, tilting her head to see how they gleam on the blade before her hand goes to take the skull handle for her task

[Eric Lunaris]

Eric doesn't relinquish the weapon. "No, lass. Ye can have as much of a look as ye want and do the deed yeself without holdin' 'im."

[LittleBird]

Kira raises a brow, tempted to say she shalln't contort herself to move in a manner so she can scratch herself while he stands tall holding his sword, yet she bites her tongue, nope, she'll decide where...she isn't giving him any advantage in this.

She takes one step back, tempted to add a knick along her shoulder, yet that would hardly do for her to observe herself, so holding her arms out, she decides the inside of her left arm will do nicely. Though she tempted to scratch her hand, yet unsure of the outcome-yet not truly wishing to know the outcome in case it alters her perception of it-she decides a scratch on the lower inside of her left arm shall do.

Her eyes flicker from the blade and Eric; who continues to wield the blade much to a little bubbling frustration. She is curious if he is performing any actions subtly to get a certain outcome. No blood will be drawn, she'll ensure that. She continues to admire and compare the runes before standing tall, her eyes flicking as she is about to trace her arm along the rune covered blade.

[eponine]

The carriage pulls up outside the door and Lugg jumps down from the drivers seat and opens the door and holds his hand out to assist Lady Mayweather.

"Careful m'lady, tis dark round 'ere, difficult to see the steps"

"Thank you Lugg" she says has she steps out. Lugg then begins to accompany her towards the house. "That will be all thank you lugg"

"But m'lady, Albert said that I was to stay with you at all times, that I mustn't leave..."

Eponine cuts him off "Yes well I shall be quite alright, wait here by the entrance and I shall call you if I need you, and I shouldn't have to remind you that outside the chantry it is Elder Campion"

"Yes m'lady but"

"Please Lugg you are a wonderful ghoul and I adore how well Cosette and yourself complement each other, but outside the chantry proprieties please, now please wait here."

"Yes m'lady"

Lugg pushes open the door for Eponine and she calls out "Hello?" but she can hear the voices of her peers and follows that looking back at Lugg with a nod.

"My sincerest apologies for my tardiness, Mr Black so glad to see you got back safely I was rather worried after your kin gave me the slip"

She looks around the room while awaiting her invitation to sit, and notices the runes "we are discussing runes how wonderful they really are fascinating" then she notices Kira's bare arm close to Eric's rune engraved sword and her face drops and fear creeps in..

"Kira! what are you doing?! DO NOT TOUCH THAT BLADE!!! NEVER give anyone your blood even the tiniest drop without thorough checks of true intent and someone well trained present such as Elder Campion or other clan mates present!"

Eponine allows more fear into her eyes and her face, without realising it she has come to care for the other neonates despite their prevalent turmoil's, and knowing how dangerous and binding blood magic truly is she not only feels responsible for the protection of the others but she WANTS to protect them, even Dr Taylor who has hated her because of her clan from the moment he laid eyes on her, this is more than just honour-bound this is genuine wanting to protect them, she feels somewhat over-come, she hasn't felt this way in 100 years why now? why with people she knows don't like her and don't trust her?

She begins to wobble, feeling like she was going to fall to her knees when someone pushes a chair under her, not even knowing who, she receives it gratefully still ignoring the room, knowing they are all listening but talking only to Kira.

"Please Kira, don't do it, I don't know what he has told you but please, don't give him your blood, not here, let Albert and myself look into it, then if you still wish to do it you can go ahead but please, you don't understand how dangerous it is, unless understood completely thaumaturgy in the wrong hands can be irreversibly binding and can be your forsaking, please, at least discuss it with your Primogen..."

With that Epi falls silent, genuine fear, horror and sadness etched on her face, her courteous mannerisms and appropriate posture abandoned her, cut down to what appears as the raw flesh, all her vulnerabilities bare, but are they?

[Dorian M. Black]

Dorian lost interest at the mention of 'runes.' Little more than white noise he'd tuned out their conversation as peripheral, familiar enough with the old marks. The inventor instead echoed Taylor's snort and then turned his attention inward. Given their goal that night, Dorian cared for little else. This conversation existed only to pass time.

Thus when their guest of honour arrived, Dorian's attention was not on the conversation in the room. Nor on the fact a blade had just been whipped out of thin air. Things like that tend to startle.

‘DO NOT TOUCH THAT BLADE!!!’ replayed. Naturally that had gone in. Naturally the sentence after replayed on even greater, startled loop. He saw the Malkavian, he saw Kira -

Lunaris' window was that Dorian's system had temporarily crashed.

He was moving before the Tremere finished, astonished panic giving way to blistering rage, the Beast a violent new totalitarian regime that sent detonations through his muscles, raked his gullet in blood, blistered heat along his nerves.

The world felt dense with detail. As Dorian swung, he cracked his forearm into Lunaris' wrist, hard enough to break.

"You think not to warn me with this?" Unspoken: something passed between them.

Anger was exhausting in its inane imperviousness to everything. There was nothing, no persuasion or bribe you could bring to it. It was a monolithic idiot, the dumbest thing in the universe given complete power over the smartest, a heartbreaking inversion. But for once, Dorian felt perfectly satisfied by its presence.

The dirty truth of his alarm he kept hidden, but his senses swept out, briefly.

Reassured, Dorian murmured, deceptively light, to the Tremere: "Don't mind this. Just a friendly show-and-tell. I'm sure Lunaris wouldn't bloodlet under my roof."

He hadn't even shifted his gaze from the blacksmith. "Come in, Lady Mayweather; you're most welcome here this night."

"Close the door."

[Eric Lunaris]

Eric's face turned from his teacher's glee to amusement at the confused nature of the situation. Blood? Such a craft needs no blood. The blood was already in the bones and used to cool the steal. The blade had enough spark within it without needing anothers.

Even Eric could notice, between his laughs, that the others did not quite realise this.

There had been a reply coming, a reassurance to the room, before the fury contacted Eric's arm. The feeling of broken bones is not something forgotten easily. Luckily enough concentration was on the arm that the blood strengthen the flesh from having bone shoot out the other side. Sheer determination holding onto the sword.

If it had only been the arm Lunaris may have stayed standing. Every neurone in his mind was suddenly on fire. The burning of the forge felt like a pleasant breeze compared to the blue scorch he could feel eminating from the center of his mind and expanding outwards. A pain that overthrew his senses.

His muscles tensed and relaxed as they now saw fit with their newfound freedom as the mind was suddenly distracted by dealing with the conflagration. Self-coordination was not however a strength of individual muscles shown by Lunaris's body stumbling to the ground. The reflexs within the muslces kept him at least on all fours rather than flat on the ground, but this was new.

Not that Eric had this thought. A faint memory of what it was like to have ideas flittered out of his ear along with rest of his higher thought. It didn't feel like his anymore. Nothing did. Everything was fire. Everything was pain. Everything was inverted and inside out, and blue. Not different shades of blue. They were each different colours, a whole new spectrum that just so happened to all also be blue.

The voices he could still hear. Talking his body now at a stand still in shock. 'I will be a moment,' Eric had wanted to say through the fire, now receeding.

"Iim Wee bo anl mt."

Eric was confused as any as to why his body decided to utter those syllables. Yet it was still laughing. Eric joined in with his body's laughter at this. At least some things were still constant in the universe.

[LittleBird]

Kira would perhaps scoff at Mayweathers words, were it not followed by the fear and determination in her voice, which then leads Kira to tilt her head rather sourly-do they truly believe I'm fool enough to draw blood for anot-Dorians stark appearance between her, Eric and his blade solidifies that thought. Great! She bites her lip, shoulders rise, arms bend but with a long drawn out sigh she relaxes-or as much as you can with such sounds of distress behind her.

"Please don't fret Miss Mayweather," Kira coos, stepping aside, "I'm not giving him anything," she grants a gentle smile to the tremere, before shooting Eric a look and with a smirk on her lips and a lowered tone she adds "Though perhaps a continuation on more neutral ground would be preferable..."

She turns on her heel, hands gently raised as if to show all angles of her arms before standing by-let not immediately too close-to Mayweather. "Nothings happened." she reassures warmly, "No danger. No harm. No foul. See?"

[Samuel Taylor]

Taylor's muscles tense as soon as the sword appears, ready to vault the back of the sofa and put his body between Christine and danger, then Dorian is there and delivers a bone shattering blow to Eric's arm.

In that moment as Lunaris falls to the ground, the pain swells. A violet thunderstorm trapped inside his head, the clouds of it break and pain replaces rain. Raising one hand to his head, Taylor's fangs extend and he lets out a howling yowl of agony. He stays standing, but only beceause of the sofa being there to support him.

His vision is blind, his eyes darting here and there but unseeing. The pain is slow to recede, and even as it does he sinks down and ends up sitting on the floor.

"Ow."

[Christine Daye]

Christine was lost in her music, her gaze elsewhere and her fingers twitching silently in time with a beat that only she could hear.

Then, in the same moment as Lunaris falls, as Taylor yowls:

Discord. A terrible, shrieking discord, overwhelming everything... every sound... every beat... turning the beautiful, structured harmony into an agonising cacophony of noise, of pain, of sheer volume... no thought... no feeling... nothing... just discord... excruciating... nothing... no.... nothing... horrible... terrible... agony... can't... no... can't... pain... sweeping... pain... crescendo... must... building.... must... harmony... need... pain... need... focus... find... pain... note... pain... focus... discord... harmony... agony....

Her mouth opens, and a single note spills out, aching in its high pitched purity, reverberating with exquisite agony. She holds it as long as there is air left in her lungs, her body convulsing violently on the sofa, back arched and head thrown back.

Then, when there is no more breath for her to sustain the note, it dies. And she faints.