Logs:It Always Involves Blood
|It Always Involves Blood|
|Dramatis Personae|| |
27 October, 2016
In the Croix de Saint-Antoine, a quaint and niche store catering to the supernatural proclivities of certain Fallcoast residents, three Kindred dwell. Angel is sitting on the counter, and Wick is examining one of the myriad shelves. Amadeus is in the small side room on the right, squinting at a caged rabbit, and sniffing the air with a gnarled nose. "Herr Ortiz... How often do you use these... animals, in your rituals? You have very many." He notes, squatting down to look at the caged chicken beneath. "You might consider... selling them to Herr Amorosa... his diet, as I have heard is primarily... the blood of animals, due to a lack of success hunting." The Nosferatu adds, and he stands back up, lumbering into the main room. So heavy are his steps in that ancient armor that the shelves tremble and the animals cower.
Wick takes out a slim volume on Arabic rituals and mathematics, and he asks Angel "Did he just...did he just _diss_ someone?" He sounds amused, and then he opens the book and flicks to the back, where the index is, and he calls out "Herr Amadeus? Are you familiar with Mid Century Modern design? Specifically, Americana?" If his tail was visible, it would be twitching.
Angel mutters, "Fairly often. Cooked food is common to serve to the spirits, and I find that I get better results if I kill and cook the animal myself than if I just buy the meat." He shrugs. "Besides, I also sell to chinese restaurants and at least one young man who lives out on the outskirts of the city and doesn't look like he gets out very often."
Immacolata has certain tastes when it comes to bookshops and this one looked promising from the outside, worth investigating. Also, it was still open, which is enough to draw her attention to it alone. She slips in through the door and takes a careful look around at both the establishment and the spines of the books. Or at least that is what she was expecting to do. Instead her gaze is immediately drawn to the hulking form of Amadeus - whom she has already become acquainted with. As to the others, Wick, she had met in passing, earlier Angel, on the other hand, she has never met. She looks between the rooms occupants, having entered through the main door, there's no real need for her to announce her presence any further. "Amadeus, Mr Xiang, what an unexpected surprise." She nods to Angel, her beast reading the nature of the room. "And here i was just expecting a mediochre collection of occult texts and instead i stumble across you three."
Amadeus regards her, but only briefly - he could smell her approaching from outside, after all, so it's like she was already here. There's a slight nod. "Guten tag, Frau Abategiovanni." Then he looks to Wick, and crosses his arms. "Herr Xiang... I cannot say I know very much, about... modern design. Might I inquire... what is a, 'diss'?" He asks curiously.
"It's American slang for a statement showing your disdain for someone or something," Angel says, from where he's sitting on the counter. He looks up, and says, "Well, it's my store."
Wick says to Amadeus "A cunning way of showing social dominance." He takes the book over to Angel and he tells him "What would you trade for this?" Then he looks up at the lady, and he smiles "Good evening - this is indeed Angel Ortiz' store - we're the Wrecking Crew. Absent Ms Avata, of course."
Angel looks down at the book, and then he checks the back of it. "Twenty dollars." He says, somewhat blandly. Then he says, "I have no idea what precisely we wreck, except Amadeus, of course."
Angel thinks. And counts on his fingers. "Four, five, six marriages... all right, I suppose." He sighs.
Immacolata takes the apparant acceptance of her presence as an invitation and ventures fully into the room. "And bettewr stocked than I expected." she says regarding the books for sale. She moves over to the counter and Angel to introduce herself (she can be a bit formal sometimes) "Immacolata Abategiovanni of the Sangiovanni and the Circle," she says with her distinctive Italian accent.
"I see... I have no disdain for Herr Amorosa. He is a pitiful creature... but has a will to learn to be competent. This sets him apart from many... of the city's more established, and equally pathetic Kindred." Amadeus responds rather simply, and takes another step in as well. "Yes, Herr Ortiz... is quite meticulous in his stocking... I do believe I mentioned him to you, the other night... Frau Abategiovanni. He is a blood sorcerer... of tremendous power, and skill." He goes on, gesturing to Angel with a claw massive enough to palm a stop sign thereabouts. "It is quite serendipitous... you should find your way into his shop."
Wick says to Angel "You know I have no money," he does not pout, but returns the book to where it was "I need to work on my finances." And then he says to the handsome Daeva "Only six? I'm honestly surprised. Mind you, Angel. That's only six that you _know_ of, surely. Do we have any lacrima?" He returns to lean on a desk, and he says "I don't know, I find the entire city massively fascinating, Amadeus. A doctor could really make his mark here." He glances at Angel as Amadeus introduces him "And he's a thief."
Angel raises an eyebrow, and says, "With all this flattery, I'll blush." He looks to Wick, and says, "Well I'd trade it for sex, but that implies I can't already get it from you." He runs his tongue over his teeth and says, "I don't keep the stuff," Except the bottle under his bed, "It's bad for you." Then he says, plainly, "Just take the book."
Immacolata takes Amadeus introduction as a response and leans on the couter, watching the verbal interplay. "Yes, you did mention him Amadeus." She replies, refering to Ortiz. She glances at the book under discussion to see if she can read the title then looks directly at angel. "I don't suppose you have anything on necromancy?" she asks
Amadeus crosses his arms once more. "Where... are Frau Kovocs, and Mason? I... have not seen either since last evening. They are quite a pair... it would seem." He asks suddenly, looking to Wick. "As for the city... fascinating or not... it is not prepared for hardship. If... the Kindred I was, but a hundred years ago... were to arrive in this praxis? Were it not for myself... and Herr Svoboda... I fear only a handful would survive, or dare to remain. These young vampires... raised in the urban world, they... frighten, far too easily. Even my kin, the Nosferatu... few among them are prepared to defend themselves." The creature pontificates, but pauses to pick at his teeth and ruminate.
"So impertinent," Wick tells Angel severely, adjusting his glasses, and then he says "No! It's a matter of pride now. I will earn my way, you wait and see, Daeva." He comes closer to take a seat "Now there's a question for a traditional Voodoo practitioner." When Amadeus speaks, Wick considers, then he says "I was raised in an urban world as well, Amadeus, but mine was much more cuthroat than the one here. But we may not know all the challenges presented by this place. We will find out in time."
Angel wrinkles his nose at something -- but then he says, "Honestly given that criteria I don't know why you keep me around. I couldn't fight my way out of a wet paper bag." Then he looks at Immacolata, and he says, "Necromancy? We work with the dead through the Ghede. As for anything else..." He shakes his head, "I never learned that trick, no. Besides, it doesn't sell."
Immacolata nods and smiles. She isn't surprised there's nothing to suit her rareified tastes but its always wise to ask in a shop like this, you never know what someone might have squirreled away in a dusty corner. "Ah well, I had to ask." As to 'that trick' its something the Sangiovanni have been guardedly keeping to themselves. "Oh, is it true that Ms Kovacs has gotten herself into a duel? I met a curious gangrel called Hadley in the Elysium."
"Nonsense! Herr Ortiz, you may not be... physically imposing, but your prowess as a sorcerer... is nigh unmatched. With but the casting of a spell... you were able to have me immobilized and delivered unto you." Amadeus responds, quirking a brow. Then he leans towards Immacolata. "Do not listen to him... Truly, Frau Abategiovanni, his skill as a Houngan... is only matched by his modesty." He adds with a nod. "Ah... yes, Frau Kovacs has challenged Frau Hadley... to single combat, in the Bone Bowl... it should prove quite interesting."
Wick looks at Angel incredulously, for a moment, then he says "I would rather fight Frau Kovacs than _you_, Angel, and I have no great desire to fight her, either. Why does everyone here mean 'physical' when they say fight? Combat has so many forms. Sun Tsu would be rolling in his grave." And then Amadeus backs it up, and Wick is nodding along as the Nosferatu speaks, and he says to Amadeus "It is true. The magic is formidable. And I imagine Avata will enjoy the combat - she takes pleasure in such things. The Ventrue have a delight in domination, not always mental."
Angel sits, quietly, with his chin in his hand, while he listens to the others.
Immacolata pushes off the counter and looks at the various book-shelves, running her fingers along the spines as she reads them. "A hougan huh? I have heard of that practise but it is very different from Cattiveria I think. Do you practise cruac Mr Ortiz?" She turns to Amadeus. "Actually, I meant to ask you that too Amadeus."
Amadeus shakes his head. "No... I do not. Though, perhaps I will learn... Herr Svoboda has offered to instruct me... and of course my servants have whispered to me of the King of The Grove... Valyaga." He replies. The Nosferatu takes a moment to glance between Angel and Immacolata, and shakes his head again. "Herr Ortiz is not... partial, to cruac, as it were. His specialty, is Kindred Vodoun... and there are few others, if any... that can match his mastery of such magics."
Angel wrinkles his nose, and says, "Quite frankly, everyone I've met who's delved too deeply into Cruac's been a half-mad, bloodthirsty, baby-eating savage, who enjoys human sacrifice for fun and is basically greasing the slide before they go belly-first into becoming a draugr." He slips off the counter, and says, "Excuse me."
Wick grimaces faintly at mention of cruac, and then he says "...I honestly prefer, ah, not to talk about my own experiences with it."
Immacolata has nearly learned as much cruac as she can without gaining further standing in the circle. Its actually why she joined. "Oh i don't know, the rituals can be quite invigorating when one gets into the spirit of it." she chuckles, "Besides, you should see some of the thing Cattiveria involves."
"Yes... Herr Ortiz' impression of the Circle... is colored deeply by certain experiences." Amadeus says quietly. "But I am of a mind... to agree with you, Frau Abategiovanni... my own discipline of Phagia has... certain applications which are less than reputable... taboo, even." He adds, tilting his head back slightly.
Angel, in the meantime, has gone into the back, past the beaded curtain.
Wick taps his fingers quietly on the countertop "What does Cattiveria involve?" he asks, and he then says "Hnh. There are two types of taboos. One is meaningless - it has become so over time. It creates a barrier against a harmless behaviour through lack of understanding. The other is to stop the collapse of civilisation." He adds, simply "I'm used to the Circle involving a lot of human sacrifice and torture."
Immacolata pulls a book off the shelf, one on wiccan qabbalah, and flicks idly through it before answering. "It varies between practitioner but often it involves interacting with the cadaver and the use of cerimonial paraphinalia: candles, insence, knives. Oh and blood, it always involves blood." She slots the book back into its place on the shelf and goes back to scanning the titles. "Ritual magic, blood sorcery is a personal interest of mine really and there is still a lot I have to learn."
Amadeus nods along. "I cannot say... that I am predisposed to mysticism. But I am willing to learn... if it will increase my talents... as a hunter." He notes. But beyond that, he doesn't say much.
Angel appears to be having a moment of ill temper in the kitchen. It sounds like someone is throwing pans across the room.
"With cadavers, I don't mind, and blood is what we _are_," says Wick "But I've seen humans who's greatest crime was being virginal being torn apart in baccanalian ceremonies, and I can't say it did my soul much good." Then he, oddly, nudges Amadeus, all familiar "Increase your talents as a hunter! Why would you ever need to, Devourer? A moment." And he heads into the doorway of the kitchen to watch the temper. Maybe it interests him.
Immacolata considers what has been said. "The mysticism is mostly about finding the means through which to channel. For all the ritual trappings though, you should keep in mind how flexible cruac is, how its effects can be manipulated into what is desired. Cattiverria is more regid in its demands but cruac... it flows."
"That... is what I have noticed, when Herr Svoboda has performed his divinations... before me." Amadeus says. "It is true... Cruac has many functions. I, however... do not seek to develop any sort of mastery... over the magic of the blood."
Wick peers around into the kitchen "Mmm, well, as _long_ as one is not degenerating, nor becoming some mindless cruel monster? I am relatively fine with just about any creative or mystical expression. Incidentally, I met someone last night who claims she can walk under the sun. She said you hated her, Amadeus. I said I was reasonably certain that was not the case."
Wick has to duck under a pot thrown at his head, from where Angel is seething in the middle of the kitchen. Claaaaang!
Immacolata's phone beeps innocuously and she pulls it out to read the message. She sighs "Builders, I can't leave them alone to do the job. I will get my body farm built on schedule." she sighs. "You'll have to excuse me gentlemen but, now I know where to find you..." She lets that hang and makes her exit.
Wick does duck - rather quickly for someone who claims to have no physical abilities whatsoever. He eyes Angel. Seething Angel. After a moment, he does something _terrible_, because he is feline and cannot help himself "Amadeus, Angel is upset, can you come and say something soothing to him?"
The pot whooshes right over Wick's head and into Amadeus' chestplate, which it rebounds off of harmlessly as the Nosferatu waves off the visitor. Then he turns the other way, and tilts his head. Were it not for his hearing, he might not have even known anything touched him. "Herr Ortiz... are you having trouble cooking?" He wonders aloud.
"No." Angel says, before he shakes his head, and visibly grits his teeth. "It's... nothing, Amadeus. You just go back to watching the rabbits."
Wick says to Amadeus "Stay." And then he moves forward and he puts a hand on Angel, his wrist.
Amadeus lumbers over to Angel and picks him up without much warning or hesitation. Even if the little Daeva tries to resist, and pull away, it isn't happening. Not with those hands. Amadeus lifts him off the ground and pulls him into a hug. "I am... not so sure, Herr Ortiz. As you well know, Herr Xiang... is quite perceptive, with regards to emotional responses. If you are upset... I will console you. Please, embrace me, it will soothe you I believe." He instructs, giving a slight squeeze. It's not enough to crush a melon, but a normal human would have trouble breathing.
Wick's eyes widen. Huge strong German brute embracing intelligent dark beauty? Wick looks suddenly a little hypnotised. Ehhhnhnn...
Angel's ribs creak. And after a moment, he drops his arms onto Amadeus's shoulder, before he says, quietly, "Amadeus." He says. "I adore you. Never doubt that. But I am afraid that..." He grits his teeth briefly... "I am afraid for my own sanity if I am suddenly surrounded by Acolytes. I would never abandon YOU. But... but." He sighs.
Don't mind Wick, boys. He's just watching with a faintly dreamy expression.
Amadeus releases Angel from the hug, holding him out in front like a puppy right out of a cardboard box. "Herr Ortiz... You are among the most sane of Kindred, and while I... recognize, your reservations with regards to the Circle of The Crone... Frau Abategiovanni reminds me very much of you, as a matter of fact. Wise... meticulous, unafraid, and creative. Her brood is... certainly of ill repute, but I implore you... if you would give a creature such as myself a chance... do the same for Frau Abategiovanni. You may very well be surprised, and... with your sorcery combined... surely there is no end at all to what you might accomplish." He explains, and then! Another hug. But he looks over Angel's shoulder, open eyed and expressionless to Wick, as if looking for a, 'good job', because, in all truthfulness he's only twenty five percent sure he's made the right decision in this interaction. But, all learning is trial and error, right?