[i:671c0688a6] The next night at Eveshka’s Penthouse on Ile de la Cite [/i:671c0688a6]

Eveshka sat on on the balcony over looking the Seine with Measha, her ghouled Norwegian Forest Cat, sitting on her lap. She absent mindedly stroked Measha’s fur and sipped at Taylor-Fladgate 20 Year Old Port. Even though she knew she would have to purge her body of it later, the wonderful taste was well worth the trouble.

Measha hopped off her lap and jumped up onto the stone railing where the light breeze tugged at her long fur. She poked her danty nose into the air and sniffed the scents brought on the wind. Measha looked down to the street, far below and meowed.

Speaking in French, Eveshka asked, “What is it Meash?”

As if to say, “Nothing important,” she meowed and hopped off the rail and began to clean herself.

Eveshka took another sip of the port and stood up and went inside, her floorlength black silk kimono clinging to her perfect hourglass form. She walked into her drawing room to examine one of the swords taken from the assamite/setite assassin. The hilt was of Ivory, the crossguard of gilded Steel. The blade was of Damascus steel. She brandished it a bit noting its perfect balance and spring. She then noted the length of the hilt in relation to the length of the blade. It was longer than it should have been to be balanced as it was. She activated her heightened senses to take a good long look at it. After several moments of study, she noticed an odd inconsistency in the grain of the ivory. Tilting her head from side to side like a perplexed cat she followed every line in the grain and finally saw it. There was an almost imperceptible line running across the lower 1/3 of the hilt. This hilt had been made by a master of subterfuge. She pressed the small brass “coin” at the bulb of the pommel and heard a soft click. The mismatched bit of ivory popped up a fraction of an inch and she turned it on the hinge of the “coin.”
Inside was a small piece of paper written in a language she had only seen on a piece of Papyrus parchment years ago.

“It can’t be. They are still looking for it,” Eveshka mused to Measha who had sauntered in carrying a toy mouse that jingled merrily. “They think I still have the scroll of Shal Ka-Mense. But how do they even know I am awake?”

((This refers to a chron I started in ToR over two years ago, continued in SoC, moved to RiB, and never ended. It’s based on a passage in the Book of Shadows of the Book of Nod)).

[i:3820d67bea] Later that same night [/i:3820d67bea]
Eveshka walked across Pont Neuf carrying a wrapped parcel under her arm, and turned left towards the Louvre. Passing roasted chestnut dealers and hotdog vendors she strolled under the Napoleon Gate and onto the grounds of the Louvre. The colorfully illuminated fountains still sprayed into the night as she passed the Pyramid and headed towards the Richelieu Wing. Ringing the bell on the main access door, a security guard came over. She showed him a card emblazoned with a crimson rose. He let her in without question and spoke into a microphone on his lapel. He politely asked her to wait a moment. EVeshka took the opportunity to poke around the exhibits in the area.

After several minutes, highheeled foot falls resounded down the marble corridor.

"Bon soir My Firebird," said Prince Renee in her musical voice as the two women exchanged a bisous that ended in a not entirely dispassionate full lipped kiss. “What have you brought me,” Renee asked as the two women made their way to her office at the Louvre.

Louis XV style furniture graced her office. Immediately behind Renee’s desk was hung a large portrait of Diane de Poitiers. Eveshka looked shocked to see it at first. The likeness between Eveshka of today, and Eveshka of the 16th century when she was known as Diane de Poiters was remarkable. She seemed to be nearly overcome with emotion as she looked from Renee to the portrait and back to Renee.
“Like it ma Precieuse,” cooed Renee.
“You, you finally finished it,” Eveshka said through crystalline tears of happiness. “I never thought you truly cared like that Renee.”

Renee smiled softly and looked away. “My beloved Firebird, you were always too preoccupied with your fans and suitors to ever notice my love. First it was Brian Braddock, then Rhiannon for god knows how many centuries. Then Tromador.” Renee smirked. “How you ever got a taste for Ventrue is beyond me. Tromador, that slut Doria, Leila, and BACK to Tromador, then Michelle St. Clair.” Renee rolled her eyes and shook her head in frustration and slight anger. “The only one of whom I ever approved was Tromador. Very good family. Very good breeding.”

“When did you finish it Renee? I still remember sitting for it.” Eveshka trailed off looking out the window onto the courtyard and Pyramid just outside, remembering fondly the soirees at Chenonceau when she was Henry IV’s Mistress. She ruled mortal France until Catherine de Medicis got tired of the rivalry and began to exercise her authority over her idiot husband.

Eveshka saw that setite girl from the Medieval Louvre walking out of the darkness from the Tuileries and that jarred her back to the present. “Renee, I need to speak to that Setite who is staying downstairs,” said Eveshka between clenched teeth.

Renee furrowed her brows a bit in concern. “She is here at my invitation Eveshka, and is within my domains. You do not have any desires to take vengeance upon her do you?”

“Of course not Renee,” Eveshka responded indignantly. “I merely would like to ask her about these,” she said, opening the parcel a bit so that the steel glinted off the light.

Renee nodded and then stood. She held out her hand to Eveshka who took it, and moved out the door and down the stairs. They made their way down into the medieval mote and went into the secret chamber. They continued through the secret area, past the displays in Renee’s personal collection and to the room of the setite.

Renee knocked on the door. “Excuse me, I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

The setite looked up in mild annoyance that swiftly was masked with a smile as she saw who was annoying her. “Not at all Prince Renee.”

Renee walked into the room, still holding Eveshka’s hand. She held her hand out towards the Setite and said, “This is Kiya Nekham, Darkmuse of Cascadia and Proctor to the Followers of Set who dwell therein.”

Eveshka’s eyes widened in agitation at the mention of Cascadia, but Renee continued as if she did not notice.

“Kiya, this is Lady Eveshka Semenovna Shuvolov, former Boyarina of Pskov, former Harpy to Prince Rhiannon, former Toreador Primogen of Cascadia, and former Seneschal of York.,” intoned Renee with a degree of solemnity not characteristic of her nature. Kiya’s eyes widened in a mixture of awe, fear, and surprise.

“Such a pedigree my ‘Lady’,” Kiya murmored coldly, having regained her composure. She looked at Renee without emotion, then looked back at Eveshka and continued, “I am honored. How can I be of service?”

Eveshka waited until Kiya offered her a seat and then sat down and unwrapped the parcel. She handed the two scimitars to Kiya. “Can you tell me anything about these?”

Kiya looked at them and immediately said, “Damascus steel, probably 11th Century, perfect balance. Most likely made by Al-Haric himself, or one of his chosen pupils. I’ve not seen any in this good of a condition, much less two of them,” she said with plain astonishment. “Where did you come across these if I may ask?”

“You may ask, they were taken from someone trying to destroy me.”

Kiya narrowed her eyes skepitcally, then looked back at the blades. “These were widely used by the Assamite in the early days of the past millenium.”

Eveshka nodded. “My assailant was indeed Assamite. Yet look at the etching just above the cross guard.”

Kiya looked at it and visibly flinched. “This is the mark of Set,” she said shaking her head slightly in confusion. “Why would the Mark of Set be upon an Assamite blade,” she asked.

From Kiya’s aura, Eveshka could tell that she really did not know the answer to that question.

From behind them, Renee murmored, “Why indeed…..”

[i:88a5191c1b] 7:45 PM at Eveshka’s Penthouse, the following night [/i:88a5191c1b]

The phone rang into the dark chambers. Rang and rang and rang. This phone number was not hooked to an answering service and at present was known only by two people, one of whom lay in slumber beneath the canopy of her massive four poster bed. Finally, after about 20 rings, Eveshka picked up the receiver and gave a groggy “Allo?”

Renee’s excited voice came through, “You need to get to the Louvre by 10 o’clock. There is a delegation from the Inner Circle coming that wishes to meet with you.”

Eveshka sat up straight in the enormous bed, “What?!?”

“Yes, I’m sending a car around for you, dress nicely now My Firebird.”

Renee hanged up the phone.

Eveshka swung her feet out of the bed and went into the main receiving room. She swung open the french doors leading to the balcony and stood there stark naked looking out across the Seine. Some people in a Bateaux Mouche could see her standing there and whistled and clapped. She paid them no mind. There was no doubt about it, if her heart could beat it would be pounding at top speed right now.

[i:88a5191c1b] Several hours later [/i:88a5191c1b]

The limosine pulled up in front of a large mansion in St. Germain. A driver in tall boots and a chauffeur uniform opened up the door in the back. Out stepped a glossy black high healed foot, followed by another. Eveshka alighted from the limo with her hair immaculately done, wearing ankle length silver sable fur with a matching hat perched at a rackish angle on her head. A clasp attacked to a chain held the collar together. A clasp of gold and jewels emblazoned with the Romanoff crest.

She looked up the stairs to the entryway with a large degree of trepidation. It was not every day that the Inner Circle wished to meet with you. She spoke to herself in Russian, telling herself to calm down. She reached the top of the stairs and stood before the door. Two white whigged doormen in 18th century frock coats and knee breeches flanked either door. Standing before them she crossed herself in the Russian fashion and made as though to enter. They pulled open the door and she walked into the entryway and into the ballroom.

A herald called out “Lady Eveshka Shuvolov,” and banged the butt of his mace upon the hardwood floor.

She nodded graciously to the herald and walked in exuding all the Majesty that she could emit. She strode down the small stairs and down onto the ballroom. Toreador and other neonates and Ancillae responded immediately and followed her graceful descent. Even several elders were caught in her power. Across the room she saw Prince Renee sitting at a harpsichord in conversation with several powerful vampires. She recognized one of them immediately as Madame Guil, Justicar of Clan Toreador. She used her aura perception to scan the room as she crossed it. She did not sense anything amiss, no angry or pensive auras. Actually most of them seemed rather content. But a vampire could be content about anything…..

Madame Guil walked up to Eveshka and gave her a rather formal bisous. “Lady Shuvolov, we meet again,” she said. “A far cry from the last time we met is it not?”

Eveshka curtsied deeply to Madame Guil. “It is Your Excellency,” Eveshka intoned very formally. “I was but a child when you met me before in the court of Catherine de Medicis.”

Madame Guil smiled with what seemed genuine pleasure. “I see you have blossomed into quite the flower. A magnificent entrance,” she said.

From behind her came a raspy voice, “Yes, yes, always in the lime light has been our little Firebird.”

Cock Robin ambled forwards to kiss her hand. Eveshka smiled remembering the last time she had met him. He had been masquerading as a handsome rockstar and was trying to get into her panties. It hadn’t worked, much to his shagrin, she saw through his Mask and saw his true appearance. Without knowing who he really was, she gave him a show with one of the girls of her entourage that made him forget his embarrassement. It was only later when she attended a formal Court gathering in the Royal Elysium of Stockholm that she saw that she had made love in front of the the Nosferatu Justicar. He thought the whole prank was funny.

Eveshka curtsied to Cock Robin as well and purred a soft “Merci.”

Renee stepped forward and swept her hand towards an elegant but cold looking woman in a very conservative, but formal, evening gown. “This is Lucinde, Lady Eveshka. The Ventrue Justicar.”

Lucinde nodded stiffly, keeping a cold and calculating eye upon Eveshka. Eveshka Curtsied very deeply and gracefully to her. “Your Excellency,” said Lady Shuvolov.

“Lucinde, this is Lady Eveshka,” Renee said, finishing the introductions.

Lucinde looked at Eveshka rather coldly and said, “I know her very well, it is impossible not to know of her from her dallyings and philanderings with many of my brothers and sisters.”

Eveshka looked down slightly and sucked half of her bottom lip and kept silent.

“Lucinde! Please,” came the angry voice of Madame Guil. “She did nothing different than you have done in the past. Do not forget Kemintiri, Lucinde,” she said with her eyes blazing in anger.

The two justicars stared daggers at each other. Renee looked from Justicar to Justicar in open trepidation. Cock Robin saw this and stepped between them, “Ladies,” he said. “Ladies, ladies. We are here on a happy occasion. Do not tread all over poor Prince Renee’s hospitality. Please, be civil, we are all friends here,” he finished, his smile actually making his features more gruesome.

Madame Guil turned to Eveshka and began to talk about her service to the Cammarilla, her unswerving loyalty to three Princes of various Camerilla cities in the past. She recounted even the attempts to mend the breach between Prince Capulet and Prince Rhiannon. All conversation and noise in the Ballroom ceased as Madame Guil continued.

“You have proven yourself worthy to accede to a position of high office within the Camerilla,” the Toreador Justicar continued. “The Inner Circle has deemed it time for you to pick of the scepter of a very old, and formerly defunct domain.”

Madame Guil pulled out a parchement written in flawless uncial script and read,
[i:88a5191c1b] “Whereas we, The High Council of the Camerilla have looked upon a long and distinguished tenure of service and contribution to Cainite Society, and decided, in our Good Pleasure, to reward her with greater responsibility, we hereby infeof Lady Eveshka Ekaterina Pskovskoya Semenovna Shuvolov with the Realm known to Cainite Society as Touraine. [/i:88a5191c1b]

Madame Guil looked up at Eveshka and then out to the assembled people in the ballroom.
“As Toreador Justicar, I am placing my seal of approval upon this document,” announced she announced. She signed her name and then lit a candle holding a bit of sealing wax up to the flame. She stamped it with her cypher. “So let it be written, so let it be done.”
Cock Robin then ambled forwards, “As Nosferatu Justicar, I am placing my seal upon this document to bear witness to its sanctity.” He signed his name upon it and then stamped his seal onto a bit of melted wax. He looked over at Lucinde.

Lucinde stood motionless for a moment. She merely stared at Eveshka as if trying to decide what to do. Renee closed her eyes in anxiety. Madame Guil stood with her arms folded look at Lucinde with narrowed eyes. After an eternity, Lucinde walked forwards and took up the quil. She looked at Eveshka with an extremely calculating and distrustful gaze. “As Ventrue Justicar, I am placing my seal of approval to bear witness that this is the will of the Inner Circle.” She signed and sealed the document. “Reign wisely ‘Firebird,’ else you will be meeting me again in less cordial circumstances,” she Lucinde said and turned away. Lucinde nodded to Madame Guil and Cock Robin, thanked Renee for her hospitality, and then strode from the ballroom.

Renee slinked up to Eveshka and said, “So my Firebird, how shall we address you?”

Eveshka looked at her for a moment with a mixture of pride, elation, and complete horror. “I don’t have a choice in this do I?”

Renee smiled a slightly wicked smile and shook her head no.

Eveshka cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “So much for a quiet ending,” she muttered.
She looked at Renee and said, “I will be styled Comtesse de Touraine.”

Madame Guil nodded her approval and smiled, as did Cock Robin.

Renee turned to the assembled kindred and announced. “Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to present a dear friend and sister of mine who has been elevated to the Cainite Peerage this day. Please pay homage to La Comtesse de Touraine.”

The assembled kindred applauded loudly and with much energy. Eveshka continued using her aura perception throughout the entire ceremony and saw nearly every aura imaginable in that room. A chamber orchestra launched into the Rejounaissance from Handel’s Royal Fireworks Music. The hall resounded with its majestic sounds and the continued applause of the assembled Cainites. Renee led the Comtesse and the remaining two Justicars back up the stairs and through a door to her private office.

[i:5dfeabf447] Inside Renee's formal office that same night [/i:5dfeabf447]

Eveshka sat down on the side of Renee's desk and looked at Madame Guil. "Lucinde still hates me I see."

Madame Guil half smiled, shrugged and then nodded. "After your doings in Cascadia and York is it any wonder? Blood binding Tromador, the REAL power of the city, made a rather resounding impact upon the Ventrue Inner Circle. Then when you bonded Michelle St. Clair….. ," she said. "It was all we could do to keep them in check and not have you destroyed."

"Destroyed," Eveshka repeated flatly with a cocked eyebrow.

Both Cock Robin and Madame Guil nodded.

“In the end Lucinde conceded that you were a fluffy brained Toreador and could cause no real harm,” croaked Cock Robin. “In truth I think they were actually afraid to send an enforcer after you. They knew you were a tad….ermm,” the Nosferatu Justicar paused a moment seeking a diplomatic word for the tempermental Toreador. “Unpredictable,” he finished.

Renee looked up at Eveshka from her seat behind the desk. “How do you feel about Usse as a power base from which to rule Touraine?”

Eveshka looked back with a smile. “Usse,” she asked. “Isn’t that a bit far from Tours?”

“Well, yes, but unless you wanted to make your haven at Luynes,” Renee shuddered. “Usse will have to do. It’s still a private estate owned in title by one of my ghouls. A very influential international corporate lawyer.”

Eveshka stood up and walked over to the map of France hanging on the wall. She examined all the different realms in the country. Her gaze went to Normandie, the region ruled by Prince Du-Lac and his Seneschal Charlemagne. She had heard the rumours of Kabalists being active there. Thus far he had not been challenged. Rouen would be lovely this summer, she would have to pay him a visit. Bretagne, filled with Gangrels and Garou. [i:5dfeabf447] Too bad [/i:5dfeabf447] she thought. [i:5dfeabf447] Such a rich Celtic history. Euryon would have loved it there. [/i:5dfeabf447] She wondered what had ever happened to him, if he still walked the earth, if he and Daisy were still partners.

She traced a finger along the southern realms of France, run by the Ventrue, Giovanni, and Lasombra for the most part. Her finger paused at Carcassonne, the lone bastion of the Tzimisce. Renee quietly came up to her side and rested a hand on her shoulder, knowing that Eveshka was remembering the 1600s.

[i:5dfeabf447] They had gotten caught in a war fought by the Tzimisce and their Spanish Lasombra Allies against the heavily factioned Camarilla. How terrible those long winter months were. Holy Mother Church, allied with the Tremere, succeeded in hurling the Spaniards out of France. Richelieu, himself a Tremere, took the opportunity to usurp power from the Ventrue backed Bourbon Dynasty and tossed most of the Ventrue out of France.

Richelieu couldn’t stop them immediately however. Spanish Tercios marched through Gascogne, Aquitaine, Anjou, and into Touraine. The Tzimisce and Lasombra massacred whole towns. Entire villages turned into armies of Szchlacta. This all culminated in the night-time battle of Etampes where Renee, Democritus, Euryon, Kaleb, Valek and Eveshka led a small group of mortals against both the Tremere backed forces of the Church and the Sabbat backed forces of Spain. They broke out of the town, but could not save more than a few score of its occupants. They could have saved more of them had Valek not been present. He flew into a rage at the sight of the Deacon of the church, who was leading a group of townsfolk to the catacombs to hide. Something about an angry Cappadocian summoning wraiths out of the air to rip the Deacon and his parishoners to shreds made the already scared townsfolk run from the group of ‘friendly’ Cainites. They made it to Paris to meet with the Ventrue Prince (a trusted advisor of Louis XIII) only to find that Richelieu had already subdued him. [/i:5dfeabf447]

Eveshka’s finger stopped over Chenonceau and much happier memories. A ghost of a smile brightened her pensive face. Too bad she couldn’t have Chenonceau back. As if reading her mind, Renee murmored in French, “Usse is the best we could do, Love. We are not in the 15th century anymore.”

“More’s the pity,” said Eveshka with a touch of remorse.

Eveshka looked over at the group. “Why is the Inner Circle resurrecting Touraine?”

Madame Guil walked over and pointed at the map. “The Sabbat already holds much of Gascogne and Languedoc. The Kabal have destroyed the Duchies of Artois and Picardie. There are rumors that they are infiltrating Normandie and Berry. Renee’s realm borders Normandie. Your duchy borders Berry. Together, the two of you should be able to keep Toreador France alive and unscathed.”

“There is also the greater interest of the Camarilla to think of,” growled Cock Robin. “You my dear,” he said ambling over to Eve, “have quite a means of attracting followers.” He waved aside the protest she began to raise.

“We know of your little project you began in York…. the Blood Cult that began to form throughout England and Scandinavia all based around that brothel of a night club you ran. We know all about these things. Truth be told, it was your going into Torpor that saved you. You should thank Arikel that Michelle showing her as Anathema Kemintiri and the capitulation of Prince Rhiannon distraught you so, “said Cock Robin in a businesslike tone.

“You are very powerful Comtesse, but not THAT powerful. Had you not gone to ground in Touraine, the Inner Circle of the Camarilla would have sent all it had after you,” the Nosferatu finished.

Madame Guil looked at her sternly, “You are never to engage in those activities again, Eveshka. Do I make myself clear?”

All three Vampires were looking at Eveshka. “You are being given a great opportunity Eveshka,” said the Toreador Justicar. “Use your talents to seduce and inspire for the greater good of Clan Toreador and the Camarilla as a whole. You are forbidden to blood bind in such a capricious manner ever again. Any childer you create must be brought before me. Any servants you create must be registered with me. There will be no more lacing of alcohol with your vitae. Remember,” she continued but in a warmer tone, “we are watching you. Lucinde is just looking for an excuse. Please, little Firebird, don’t give her one.”

Eveshka nodded with her eyes closed.

Madame Guil nodded to Renee.

“Come,” Renee said, holding out her slender hand to Eveshka, “there is much to celebrate. It’s time to show off in front of this new breed of Toreador, Love.”

With that the party rejoined the gathering in Renee’s ballroom. As dawn broke, the hedonistic Toreador slumbered on the couches and parquette floors of Renee’s ballroom. Eveshka and Renee made their way quietly through the masses of entangled bodies, slumbering in various states of undress, to the door way leading to Renee’s bedchamber where Eveshka would be enjoying Renee’s favours once again, and potentially, a second endorphine steeped draught of her vitae.

Notre Dame, a peaceful place in the small hours of the morning. The smell of Paris present, but in that faded, half stated way all big cities acquire when the breezes have blown away the fumes of the previous day, in preparation for the onslaught of another day of heavy traffic.

Peaceful, even tranquil, shattered only by the song of an early bird, considering the possibility of commencing activity for the day.

The sound of two vehicles permeates the air, one a smart black limousine which pulls up to the side of the road and another, loud and approaching at high speed.

A lady exits the limousine, exquisite russian features complimented by clothes, which whilst observing the latest in fashion, do also hold elements from other times, other ages, the whole meshing to present a visage of striking beauty.

The limousine pulls away, as the second car, a red ferrari convertible screams down the road at a speed barely within the realms of safety, possibly beyond. Tyres screech, as the ferrari brakes hard, swerving into a bootlegger reverse to stop in the space formerly occupied by the limousine. A passing gendarme forgets what it was he wanted to say to the driver.

A man in a smart, yet very casual suit grins out at the lady. "Hey doll-face, fancy meeting you here!"

Eveshka swirled around, resplendant in her silver sable furs.

“JULIUS!?!? What are you doing here,” she asked with a large smile upon her face.

If there was anyone or anything on the face of the planet who knew her mind, and consequently the secrets of her soul, more intimately than Julius Darrant, Eveshka could not think of that person.

“You look as lovely as always,” said Darrant nonchallantly, but also not taking his eyes off of her. “The night has just started. Where too?”

Eveshka looked up at the Penthouse. She looked at the sleek sportscar and the sophisticated James Bond type inside of it and felt her femininity quiver. She smiled with a lick of her top row of teeth with fangs already starting to project. Eyes narrowing with her smile like a purring lioness, Eveshka slinked gracefully into the car and said, “The Veils.”

Julius looked at her a moment. “Sorry, Love, not familiar with that one.”

“Head around and cross at Pont Neuf, it’s at the base of Montmartre.”

With smoke from the squeeling tyres momentarily blazing red from the rapidly receding tail lights, Julius and Eveshka headed into the night.

“Is it a good one?,” Julius shouted as they screamed past the Louvre “I’ve not had as good a time as the last time we partied at Club Purgatory in York. I mean, the music is good right?”

Eveshka looked over and grabbed Julius’ ‘stick-shift’. “Music? Probably. I just want a good fuck, and you’re the Tremere for the job.”

Within minutes, the two of them were paying the bouncer at the door and had already started the foreplay right on the dance floor. Within thirty minutes they were both more or less naked and grinding away at each other in the VIP section.

:twisted: :twisted:

"good evening my little one, your looking as delectable as always" his rich voice swam over her, caressing every sense in her body, making her weaken at the knees like no other could.

Her eyes closed and she steadied herself against the balcony as he trailed his fingers down her naked back, only stopping as he reached the base of her spine, his hands then enfolded her waist and pulled her to him tightly, his lips caressing her neck gently.


Kathy opened her blue eyes and they sparkled with energy and happiness.
"and you are as corruptable and unstoppable as always" she laughed as she turned around and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

His hands moved to brush the ringlets that hung around her face, his fingers tracing the outline of her lips and then touching her small nose affectionately.

"Ive missed the veils so much...and you of course...how could I not miss you" she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him warmly on the lips.

"ma cherie, really ...people will talk" he grinned his rich laughter filling the small private balcony that they stood on.

There was never a crowd outside the Veils nightclub, ordinary people couldn't find the place, they weren't supposed to...only those that knew it was there.

The front of it was unassuming enough, it resembled a small cocktail bar, but the secret of the place was in the name.....the Veils.

A designer called Doug Henning had designed the doors, using his skill and artistry with mirrors and lights. People seemed to disappear into a shimmering black haze when they left one room, and come into view , just as uncannily, in the next room, hence the name " The Veils"

"A drink I think, to toast your return to the fold" he put his fingers on her lips as she opened her mouth to reprimand him.

"I know cherie, its not a permanent return, but please, let me enjoy you while I can, no talk of leaving" he looked at her his eyes appealing to her.

"very well, a drink it is then" she replied softly, her eyes gazing at him as she touched his cheek.

He held out his arm for her and she slipped her arm in his and they walked down the stairs to the VIP bar.
He admired the way the tight leather dress clung to her body and the way that it looked quite unassuming at the front, just a mere glint of cleavage, the real view was from behind, the dress at the back was nearly extinct, cut away all the way down to the soft rise of her buttocks.

He couldn't resist patting her bottom as she walked down to the bar, her hips moving from side to side as she made her way to the side of the bar.
"Business is good tonight I see" Kathy said as she glanced around her as she sat crossed legged on a low marble table.

"Its only just picked up again, the attacks on the kindred population did nothing for the club, our numbers were decimated somewhat but things seem to be going alright now, have you not heard anything of them in cascadia yet?" he looked at her concerned.

The kabal were one of the reasons that he wished her to stay with him, so he could protect her.

Kathy shook her head."never heard of them or anyone talking about them for that matter, you mean theyve been here already?"

she looked with mild interest as he said that they had been seen in the south of france and then seemed to have faded away.

"no doubt a rebel faction then, nothing to worry about"

"come ....no more talk of business, you are here to enjoy yourself, and I will ensure that you do"

Two languidly intertwined bodies lay between the silken sheets of a boudiour within a well appointed Notre Dame penthouse. "...so, after you managed to create the rumour that I was the damned snake, it was just impossible to continue, even after she'd been unmasked." Julius continued, "Speak the plain truth, I'd had just about as much of that job as I could stand anyway, they replaced me with some stuffy old traditionalist and promoted me sideways. I'm back on Meer's staff now."
"You [b:7a270b7bd8]were[/b:7a270b7bd8] acting like a snake Julius, if I recall correctly."
"What you sssaying, lil ole me a sssnake?", hissed Julius from a scale covered face. "That's not very fucking funny." snarled Eve, pushing him away. "OK, OK...", soothed Julius, his face returning to normal, "You did what you had to do, it wasn't your fault, I know. Right under my nose and I didn't see it. Didn't have much of a chance to, but... well... that's past now."
"Let's hope so, love." Eveshka replied, "But, enough about the bad old days, why have you come to Paris?" Julius moved closer to her, running a finger over Eve's luxuriant curves, "Would you believe that I just wanted to see you?"
"Not for one minute."
"You know me too well, love. Let's say I'm on... detached duty, for the time being. I rather thought I would enjoy visiting Paris. Finding you here proves my instincts were correct. Life is so much more fun when you are around." Eveshka grinned and licked a fang teasingly, "So what are your plans, now that you are here?"
"I was on my way to visit the Prince, until I saw you."
"[b:7a270b7bd8]Julius Darrant[/b:7a270b7bd8]," exclaimed Eveshka, "You haven't presented yourself to the Prince yet?"
"Ahm, not as such."
"How long do you think you can continue to flout traditions and get away with it?" Inquired Eve, fixing Julius with a steely gaze. "Oh, indefinately, so long as I don't flout them too much." He replied with a smirk. Eveshka's expression softened. "I should take you to see Renee."
"Probably," answered Julius, breathlessly gathering her towards him "but it can wait until tomorrow."

[i:7a270b7bd8]The following night[/i:7a270b7bd8]

Two kindred walked through the corridors of the louvre, a strange couple. The first, hundreds of years old and beautiful beyond compare, wore a formal evening dress, black, cut to follow her curves in a way which maintained modesty, whilst hiding nothing. She was famous and infamous within and without her clan, her time bringing her prestige and a collection of memories and experiences unimaginable by any who had not lived such an unlife. The second, a handsome man, with a well toned body sported an equally formal Armani suit. He was much younger, yet also possessed of the respect of his clan, at once famous and infamous. In his comparatively short unlife, he had gained his own share of experiences, friends and enemies. For all their differences, there were parallels between the two.

They walked and talked, pointing out those works which appealed and those which did not, making their presence felt and noting with pleasure the envious looks from other kindred in the gallery, eventually finding their way to the office of the Prince.

Admitted at once into the office, the couple found the Prince in conference with the Parisienne Primogen of Tremere. He looked up as they entered, fixing his eyes on Julius for a moment, then visibly paled. "P..P..P... um.. J.. er.. Sire, may I have your permission to withdraw?" he stammered, "But of course." Answered the Prince, an amused smile coupled with a raised eyebrow at the reaction. The Tremere scurried from the room, glancing nervously at Julius on his way out. "So, my little Firebird," Rennee began, "What 'ave you brought me?"

[i:3abb14aeda] The following night [/i:3abb14aeda]

“I feel like going back to [i:3abb14aeda] The Veils, [/i:3abb14aeda] Julius,” cooed a naked Comtesse de Touraine, bending forwards and leaning over the sink to put on eyeliner. The warm light from the bedroom cast a golden glow upon her perfect skin and flawless curves. Julius merely gaped open mouthed at her and tried to voice his assent, but it merely came out as a horse gurgle. He followed her around with his eyes for nearly 30 minutes as she went through the elaborate ritual of dressing. At present she wore a blouse of scarlet silk with billowing sleeves by Jean-Paul Gaultier, a pendant given to her by Porter several life times ago, a more or less see-through silk miniskirt by Romeo Gigli, a black satin thong, and thigh high Italian lambskin boots. Then he blinked and shook his head slightly.

“Eve,” he asked.

“Mmmm?”

“Are you using Majesty right now,” he queried.

She merely giggled.

He chortled slightly, smirked, cocked his right eyebrow and spent a blood point trying to Awe her.

Eveshka gave him an “as if” look and smiled, licking a protruding fang. “All you need do is ask Pontifex Darrant, you can have everything you see here,” she ran her hands down the flanks of her body while strutting over dripping with sex and 800 year old Toreador pheremones. She pushed him down on the bed and straddled him and started grinding her sex against him in slow rhythmic circles. She leaned forwards to whisper in his ear, “And everything you don’t.” She brought her head around to face him, inches of electrical charged air separating their lips. In one swift motion she smiled, licked his nose, and sprang off the bed to finish getting dolled up. She put on a calf length form fitting button down cashmere sweater to complete the ensemble.

[i:3abb14aeda] Meanwhile at the Batcave [/i:3abb14aeda]

Batman had Robin bent over the love seat again and was about to put his…….

[i:3abb14aeda] But back in Paris 30 minutes later [/i:3abb14aeda]

They did not take the Ferrari to the Veil’s this time. Eveshka wanted to walk. Julius was always one to indulge her ideosynchracies, provided they were of a superfluous nature, so they walked. Making their way through le Jardin des Tuileries to Place de la Concorde, they spoke of York and its silent demise. Turning right at Place de la Concorde, they sauntered up Rue Royale and onto Rue Tronchet. They passed couples walking hand in hand beneath the lighted trees in the early spring air.

“Do you still have the Scroll fragments, Julius,” asked Eve in English as they passed Place de Clichy.

Julius looked at her. “Yes,” he answered tentatively. “Why?”

“I was attacked several nights ago by someone I believe was looking for information about it,” responded Eve.

“Attacked,” he asked with concern.

Eveshka nodded as they headed up towards Montmartre Cemetery.

“He was assamite. Very powerful, and very well informed as to my whereabouts,” she said. “It took both Maryushka and I to stop him.”

Julius smiled, “Maryushka…. How is she?”

They walked in silence for a few moments.

“Eve?”

She continued to walk.

“Eve, what is it?”

She stopped and leaned up against the concrete wall surrounding the cemetery and held her hands up to her face starting to cry.

“He killed her before I could stop it.”

Julius put his hand on her shoulder but did not embrace her. He had seen her cry before, would probably see it again. At least this time it was not over breaking a nail or some such nonsense.

Eveshka walked away from him and headed down Rue des Abbesses and into The Veils. Julius shook his head in mild annoyance, rolled his eyes, and then chuckled to himself. He followed after her and found her in a dimly, yet beautifully, lit corner sitting on a crushed velvet love seat with her legs crossed. A gorgeous barmaid slinked over to them as Julius sat down to join her.

“Qu’est-ce que vous desirez,” she asked.

Eveshka looked up at her with a coquettish smile and answered simply, “Vous.”

Julius laughed uproariously at how quickly the mercurial Toreador had changed tack. Eveshka smiled at Julius and then turned her head back to the barmaid with a smile that gave the barest glimpse of a projected fang. In a flash it was gone again. The barmaid nodded with a smile and held out a crimson velvet covered wine list with gold accenting.

Continuing in French, Eveshka ordered a bottle of La Fee Sanguine Absinthe. Julius ordered a snifter of 25 year old Macallan Scotch, neat.

Julius looked at her curiously. “Didn’t you use to serve that at Purgatory?”

Eveshka smiled and nodded. “The Board of Directors has put a clamp on the way I used to serve it. This is mortal vitae laced with Absinthe.”

Julius cocked his eyebrows again, this time with concern, “Didn’t I break an addiction you had to that stuff?”

“Shame on you for bringing such a serious topic into the festivities, Julius,” she giggled, but her eyes did not smile.

She scanned the crowd of the club. The vampires and ghouls were nearly as numerous as the mortals. She looked over to the modern looking bar and saw a voluptuous Toreador speaking to the owner. The owner seemed to be turning the younger vampire’s attention to Eveshka and Julius. The two vampires began walking over to Eve and Julius. Eve looked at Julius who shrugged.

The bar owner came over and kissed Eve’s hand saying, “Greetings Lady Eveshka, I am Connor, the Proprietor of this establishment. You are more than welcome here. This is my childe, Kathy Belavedere. Kathy, this is Lady Eveshka Shuvolov, Comtesse of Touraine.”

Kathy smiled and curtsied saying, “My Lady.” Like most Toreadors, she’d heard a great deal about Eveshka, but had never met her before, nor had she seen her before. Something about the stories didn’t quite match up with the woman in the flesh. But then again, they never do.

"Im delighted to meet you, I have heard many a story about you, although I cant say if they are true or not" kathy smiled warmly , her eyes drinking in the beauty of Eveshka, her perfect skin and her exquisite body.

"but then we are toreadors, we revel in idle gossip, even more so if it about ourselves" kathy's eyes turned to Julius.


Connor and kathy, let me introduce you to Julius Darrant, the former Tremere Primogen of York, England" eveshka said almost in a whisper.

"enchanted im sure" before kathy could do anything Julius had taken her hand and was gently kissing the back of it, his tongue twirling along languidly as he did.

Connor grinned and watched for kathy's reaction.

" I see your quite a charmer, but I find that people who openly try to show off their sexual prowess, are quite abonimable in bed"

Kathy removed her hand and Julius just looked at her as Eveshka tried to hide a smile.

"champagne I think" connor signalled over the barman and spoke brifely to him.

"perhaps you would both care to join us in the VIP lounge?"

Connor and Kathy led the group towards the VIP lounge, with Julius bringing up the rear. "Julius, that was disgusting." Said Eveshka pointedly. "mmm...? Oh... yeah, sorry." he replied somewhat distractedly, "You go on ahead, I'll catch you up in a second."
"What are you talki.." Began Eveshka. "No time," he hissed, "Go!"

Eveshka caught the look in his eye and hurried the others along, Julius already murmuring under his breath and making discrete arcane motions with his hands. "Dammit", he snarled as his suspicions were finally confirmed, then grinned. He sauntered over to one of the bouncers and whispered something to him, catching his gaze for just a second. The bouncer nodded, signalled a couple of his compatriots and headed towards one of the evening's clientele, bundling him out of the door.

Julius chuckled and went to join the others in the VIP lounge.

"...So Kathy, I apologize for my somewhat boorish behaviour." Explained Julius. "You're sure about this?" Asked Eveshka. Julius nodded, "He followed us in. I took the opportunity to clock him staring at us when you introduced me to Kathy. I guess he didn't want to make a fuss when I had him ejected, not with so many kindred in the building."
"Maybe we should go." mused Eveshka. "No point, love. By now he's heading back to report he's seen us together." Answered Julius. "Worst that can happen tonight is that they'll trash my car, but they can't believe I'd be so stupid as to leave the..." Julius stopped, abruptly remembering the other two Toreador. "Did somebody mention champagne? You wouldn't, by any chance happen to have a bottle of Dom Perignon '85 squirrelled away, Connor?"

Inside the VIP section the four Cainites jabbered away about nothing and everything. Julius and Eveshka would subtly pry into one subject and then change course to another subject to judge Kathy's and Connor's reactions to things. Kathy and Connor did likewise. Both parties blatantly knew that was occuring. In the end they knew nothing more about the other parties than what the other party wanted them to know. It was all great fun even if it was really nothing more than mental masturbation. But then again, with three Toreadors and one Tremere Playboy, what could one expect.

"Connor?," asked Eveshka, turning her icey blue eyes to him with a coy smile. "Could you get a tango to be played? I am dying for a tango," she said turning her attention to Julius with the hungry expression she gave out to only the most select of beings.

Julius smiled broadly, fondly remembering cutting the rug back in York with the former Seneschal of York. Connor smiled and nodded. He got up and flipped through some CDs pulling out the remade version of “Roxanne” from the [i:340487e61c] Moulin Rouge [/i:340487e61c] soundtrack. With a smirk he put it on and the Eve and Julius assumed their positions for the dance.

Perfectly in tune, as ever, the Boyarina Eveshka Semenovna Shuvolov and her partner, the Pontifex Julius Darrant raised their presence, a dance such as this should be witnessed by all, or it would be wasted. As heads began to turn, a hush fell gently across the room, the Boyarina waited but a moment, savouring the atmosphere, the eyes rapt upon her and Julius, the undivided attention.

As the first notes sprang from the PA, Eveshka turned to Julius who slid left, turning to face her and they embraced in the well known form. As usual Julius had acquired a rose from somewhere, which he gripped into his teeth. Two pairs of eyes met and narrowed for but a moment, before burrowing into the other's gaze.

The pair took their first step, moving to the right of the radiant Boyarina, Julius shifting to walk outside of her, their eyes remaining fixed into each other, two steps forward and one back, sliding finally into the [i:bc866ee586]cruzada[/i:bc866ee586] to complete the first [i:bc866ee586]Salida[/i:bc866ee586]. Eveshka grinned, upping the stakes, ripping the rose from Julius mouth, moving her body, their bodies in the sinous motion of the dance, while their feet moved in the complex crossing motions of a [i:bc866ee586]giro[/i:bc866ee586] to reverse the direction of the dance. Julius smiled, countering by marking a [i:bc866ee586]cruzada[/i:bc866ee586] to lead into another reverse, completing the double [i:bc866ee586]giro[/i:bc866ee586].

The first testing steps of each other complete, familiar patterns began to establish. The couple moved in flawless unison, first in one direction, then another, each pass adding to the sensuality of their union, their steps becoming more embellished, Eveshka sliding her arm around Julius' neck to hold them closer the rose once again changing ownership. The watchers long forgotten, for the dancers there was now no world and no life save the music, the touch of their bodies against each other and the cat like grace of the tango.

With a whirl, Eveshka was bent back over Julius arm, the Pontifex leaning down to pass the rose again, briefly and delicately brushing her full red and hungry lips with his own. She fell, to the floor, perfectly in control and slid along behind him before, with a second whirl coming once again to her feet, brushing his lips in turn as she retreived the rose.

They processed again, rapt by the music, moving this time in a lazy circle as Julius followed Eveshka's [i:bc866ee586]media vueltas[/i:bc866ee586], the watchers enthralled, hanging on their every move. Finally, as the music faded, finding themselves where they had started, locked into the same embrace, their eyes locked, in rapture of each other.

A moment passed, in which even the kindred amongst the mortals seemed to sigh, before the moment was spoiled by the DJ continuing with his previous musical collection. Julius leaned in once again, to meet Eveshka's hungry lips, before they returned to their seats, revelling in each other and in the jealous looks thrown their way.

(WOW :))

Kathy watched enthralled as the pair danced, the dance floor was near empty as the two of them moved it seemed in unison, their steps not faltering as they followed the flow of the music.

"They are very good together dont you think?" kathy whispered to Connor as she watched.

"very good indeed, rather an odd combination though, a Tremere with a Toreador, but then we all have our own tastes and uses for different people" his eyes never moved from the dance floor as the music rose to an ebb and gently faded away.

"connor really....we all need the other clans at one stage of another, I personally think its better that we mingle freely with the others, after all they need educating in the finer things of life" she laughed quietly, her thin red lips parting as she did.

"That was a delight to watch Lady Eveshka and you of course Juilus, a most splendid display" Connor rose from his seat as Eveshka sat down once again.

"thankyou Connor, it was a pleasure to perform for you all" her blue eyes once again looked at connor.

"tell me Kathy, do you live in paris?" her attention turned and she listened as the young toreador told her briefly of her past life and where she was now living.

"I must admit I love paris, especially with such charming company" julius said in a suave tone, his eyes seeming to smile at Eve and Kathy.

((Poncy bastards :P:P:P:P