Twisted Little Game
Scene Name: Twisted Little Game
Date & Time: 08.25.2011 6:00p.m. -6:00 GMT
Characters: Celeste, Dutch, Isaac(later)

Town Hall - Mayor's Office

This office makes up the southern face in the domed peak of the Town Hall. Wide, tudor-style windows create the face of the southern wall from floor to ceiling. Pewter, curved handles provide access to open the doorlike windowpanes and step out on the patio beyond that overlooks the bustle of Aurora Square.
The remaining walls of the office are covered with shelves to support a wide arrange of texts and knickknacks of curious languages and designs respectively. The flooring is a fine white marble, veined in thing golden rivers to match a motif befitting this staple of the Sun City. Overhead the ceiling supports a the great seal of Solis - a branching oak standing proud before the rising Sun. The emblem glows from within, filling this chamber with a warmth and unmistakable glow no matter the hour.
In the way of furnishings, this room supports a single oak desk in the southern quadrant. A lengthy chair upholstered in a unique orange sits ready for the leader of this realm, while on the opposing side a few intricate wooden chairs are arranged for visitors seeking an audience with the Voice of Solis.
A small doorway leads east of this chamber, while to the north a large stairwell offers access back into the main area of the Town Hall.

The office door creaks open and in slips the vampire Dutch, being very cautious and clinging to the shade and shadows of the room, quickly moving to the far corner to make sure the the light pourring in the from the tudor style window, doesn't set him ablaze. He is clocked in black, the cloth draping over him and emitting nothing beyond a shaded face, barely recognizable, and only his voice truly give him away. "Celeste, I must speak with you." he simply states, the cloth still smoking as the heat from the light is penetrating, "Please close the window." he asks of her so he can continue with ease.

Celeste had sat, running her finger tip to trace the line of a new name scribbled into the heart of the Vampire Registry. The soft whine of the door and the accompanying, scuffled steps and voice, have her drawing her attentions towards the inky black spot amidst the very minimal shadows in this brightly lit chamber. The Mayoress raises a brow beneath her headress. Her hood is pulled back today, revealing the falls of her nightly black locks that are highlighted with tones of crimson. Still, her veil is hitched loyal around the lower half of her face.
Her fingertips dance on a small keypad panel at her side, and with a code entered the windows tint themselves black and shut out the light. "Dutch. Please, come in. Is something the matter?"

This vampire took quite the risk in coming here today, he needs to get some more information together as he now knows that there is a plan in works for war if certain criteria are not meet. There has to be a way to use this to their advantage, but he has though nothing up yet, and wonders if she has anything up her sleave. Maybe she will bring it out, or simply wait, but no matter. This could be useful to her. As long as there is a way to try and settle all this peacefully it may be worth it. Only price is himself once again. Something that makes his temper flair, but he now thinks of himself a protecter, and this is a sacrifice worth making, well in a way.
"In a matter of days I shall be summoned unto the heart of the Blodtwulf, I think there is some test that I must pass. Let me explain." At that he pulls back the clock from his shrouded face, letting those green eyes bask in the darkness of the dim room once again, feeling much better now that the light isn't barrading about. "My sire offered me to Drakth, dispite my legitimate plans I had laid. He is also going to supply Drakth with soldiers, and even went so far as to send them a receipe to make lower vampires nearly immune to the light for a brief amount of time." he stops and draws a breath. He doesn't like talking this much but just wants to get it all out in the open. "He would have Drakth be General to all Noxctalis in exchange, and I must submit to Blodtwulf for the test, and mate with one of the savage vixens." Finally finding a place to stop he takes it.

Slowly, those silver eyes grow steely, sharp, and wide. Slowly, as if the world had begun rocking beneath her bare feet, Celeste rises behind her desk. "Dutch," his name is a whisper - one of disbelief, of blissful hope in the beauty of denial, however fleeting. Slowly, she closes her eyes, the wrinkles of a grimace forming on the visible portions of her countenance. "It's not possible," she hisses. She clenches her fists on the table, a few droplets of blood spilling fron her hanna-inked palms.
"Your sire comes to my office and aligns himself with the purpose of the registration. Not only does he shame the very creed - from the rumors I have heard in his vow of 'protection' - but now plays a two-faced role?!" The Mayoress's anger rolls from her form in tangible waves of heat before she takes a few steadying breaths and opens her eyes. "I do not want rage. I do not want war. They must know they are outnumbered by the mass of mortals, no?" She shakes her head. "Dutch, you must listen…"
Celeste steps out from behind the desk of whispery paces and stands before Dutch. "Take part in their tests. Do so for me, so that we can save not only my kin, but yours too. But, do not bed their demon women - their kind breeds and they will trap you forever with the prospect of child, a child that will be wicked with their blood… their savage lust for war. Do not chain yourself to a responsibility that can never be lead into greater purpose and light, but only death."

Dutch stays off in the corner of the room, as the darkness is most soothing there. He just simply nods at the remarks though, something that has already went through his mind. "What do you make of it? If I get access to there dome, amidst their lair, we could strike at the heart of Blodtwulffen preemptively. It's not an act of honor but it will exploit there weakness in falling back to ritualistic traditions." He is sure of his strength. He knows that as long as that great cleaver remains out of reach, he won't have much to worry about. Even if he has to face a thousand soldiers of Blodtwulf, he will make it out alive somehow. But this is an opportunity that is hard to pass up, and maybe the only way to truly enduce peace. But checking the savages and putting them in their place, under heel. He has though about this for sometime, but still he wonders what she thinks, and if she is thinking the exact same thing.

Celeste bows her head. "We have two enemies here - one who knows only war, and another that is weak in his position and willing to do anything for the approval of his city…" She turns away and moves back to her desk. "If we must, we will strike from within - we will attack the source of evil before it can spread, before it can create new vampires from innocent people to have them shipped off into a pointless war. To save us, to save them, we will attack if need be. We have… a weapon that could make this more than possible." She glances to him from the corner of her eye and slowly lifts a hand. "I cannot reveal this to you now, for I still hope of a peace…"
Dutch, you must realize the historical violence of your kin. You alone stand proud - the only Vampire to sign the book without two-faced intentions…"
There is a soft of the chains at her ear and a whisper of silk as her veil falls away. Beneath the gossamer, black veil, where fine, tan flesh should be - there are scars. Wicked and wild, a frenzy of violence has had its way with this once beautiful woman's flesh.

Dutch peers at the woman, a slight choke of disgust passing over him, as he didn't expect anything like that. There is something dark she is hiding now, a reason for her involvement, but he knows that she trusts him now. He can sense it, like some unknown force that is compealed towards him. He is lucky like that though, and always has been. He has a way with earning trust with his genuinely honest approach to things, which is why the acceptance of a secret attack is a little lowly for him, but at the same time, it's an opportunity.
He takes a few steps toward her, his eyes taking in the scarring and damage done to this silver eyed woman. "How cruel a mask to wear to the world. How did this happen to you?" he inquires of her, his tone soft and compassionate, lulling and he makes it rightly so.

Celest turns her face away, presenting the silhoutte of beauty ravashed and scarred over for only a moment hearbeat longer before her slender fingers work to deftly clip her veil back into place. "It was five years ago now," her voice flows as smooth as cooling waters through the thin fabric. "I was walking home late one evening. Here, in Solis. Wrong time, wrong place. The Vampire responsible fled into the night after a few men came to the rucus… It is not an eventful tale, but it is mine forever to bear, nonetheless." She shrugs and slips away back to her desk, lowering herself into her seat. "But, this hideousness… it will be nothing compared to the damage of war on both our kinds."

As she speaks, turned away and in her seat, Dutch slowly drawls to her, placing a chilling hand upon each shoulder, offering up a sympathetic squeeze of compassion. He tries to put the issue of the attacker out of his mind, his baser instincts wanting to lash out in pursuit in rage, but he calms himself by thinking through it. "I'm sorry this happened to you… Does it have anything to do with that blank grave?" he ponders on this and just blurts it out, but it's a calm tone, with not a hint of judgemental properties, just a curiousity to the past.

The touch to her flesh, or perhaps just the mention of the grace, draws a rigidity into Celeste's slender, femanine frame. "I've revealed myself enough for one day. The grave is none of your concern…" She shifts slowly in her seat, turning those steely eyes up upon the Vampire. "I have lost much," is all she offers in regards to the topic before swiftly steering it back on course. "Will you help me to help us and ours both? Will you go to the Wolves and be of their house?"

He slowly nods, wanting to make sure he heard her right. To make sure that she knows of what she is asking of him, if thats indeed what she is doing. "You would have me submit to their test, and be of their clan? Even against my disdain? Tell me why." His voice still calm, but he feels it his right to need some answers as to the train of thought she is following. "What happens next then?

"You inquire so much," Celeste grunts slightly, but bows her head just as quickly in some humble fashion to beg forgiveness for this small outburst. "I'm sorry, the situation weighs heavily on me. My frustration is not truly directed at you…" She sighs. "With you in their ranks, we can hold till the very last moment before a single drop of blood must be shed. Without you there, we are sitting ducks - as they say, waiting for the fall of the axe that will sound the trumpets of war and kill our friends and family. I promise you - I, we rather, have a weapon that can bring victory. But, if we can avoid this bloodshed, we will be better for it."

She just sounds so sure that this weapon with solve all the problems, but she must realize that the vampires too are covering all there bases and not just preparing for a simple scrap, but all out war. "They are training soldiers by the hundreds daily. Even more are being sent to Drakth to submit to the fever and the harrowing. They mean to bare destruction down upon this land." he trails hoping that she is starting to realize the severity. It would not just be human life that would have to worry, but the entire realm of Solis itself. The vampires have ambitious plans indeed. "If I am to trust you, you must be out with your secrets. I don't understand what you have that you are so confident in. Is it the golden blade of the goddess Isis herself?"

Celeste sits at her desk, Dutch standing beside her. Her hood is pulled back, revealing the falls of her black hair, tinted with the highlights of crimson. The windows are darkened, blocking out the natural sunlight.
"No Isis…" The words are allowed to trail, leading one's mind down a wandering path of possible deities and possible weapons. The Mayoress lifts a hand, revealing the sun-shaped henna markings in her palm. "Now, press me no further. I have trusted in you thus far, that you have not come here to fill me with lies of possible war and deceipt. You must have faith in turn, too. Faith, humans survive the worst one its wings." She smiles beneath her black veil.

Dutch draws back a few paces, his trust waining but he holds firm. He has already told her about the potion against the emmitance of sunlight but maybe it's something else. Some mystical thing that he has not much knowledge of. He suddenly recalls a new acquiantance and ponders on mentioning the firey sorceress to her, but keeps it as his own secret, for she has taken a liking to him alone, and would eagerly like nothing more than to release into a raging torrent of hellfire. But dare he to allow her to take part in anything has yet to be decided in his mind. His compassion for her as a human forcing his will to resist such things for the time being. "Okay then, I won't press it, but I expect to be told… eventually. I only have the survival of both species in mind." thats what they had become really, separate species even though they are the same. One and the same. But different.

Celeste nods. "You have my word, as I have kept yours. We have one goal between us." A smile once more reaches her silver eyes. "Be safe in the home of the Wolves, Mr. Dutch."

Quietly entering the upstairs office in the town hall, Isaac notices the Mayoress has a visitor not wanting to disrupt their conversation he quietly closes the door behind him and stands off to the side flashing a quick smile and nod waiting to be addressed directly. (Isaac)

Sensing that the time for talking with her has come to an end, he bids her a quick goodbye. "Yes, well I'll take my leave then. I'll be seeing you again." He sees the older gentleman enter the room and remain quiet just waiting his turn, and gives him a nod, as he brustle past with a gust of wind and a swing of the door.

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