Julius waited. The chateau in Touraine was likely no longer safe, but then again, who would be foolish enough to challenge? That the Camarilla would send it's forces against them, against himself and Eve, so soon after they had walked out seemed unlikely. More likely, in fact, that it was a conceit to think they would even bother. The Camarilla had better things to do than to send it's strongest, for they would need to be, against two renegade kindred, who rated the designation of thorn in the side, at most. More likely they would simply allow Eveshka and himself to fade into obscurity. Only if they chose to challenge the Camarilla would the attention of the Justicars find focus upon them. Any decisions to make such a challenge would not be made so soon, if ever. The possibility of a quiet life, unimpeded by political concerns and the endless jostling for position and power had a certain appeal. Time to study, time to spend with his daughter, time to take back the reins of Darrant Industries. Time for Eve. All these things were, perhaps, available once again. Nonetheless, they couldn't stay long in Touraine. A new prince would be appointed, it was certain the Camarilla would not allow a renegade Prince to stay.

Then there was the Meerlinda problem. It was clear that Clan Toreador was now a puppet of his former mentor. Eveshka's "trial" had been judged not by a Justicar of her clan, but rather by a Councillor of House and Clan Tremere. Thoughts of peace and time for himself and those he loved shattered. Eveshka would not stand to see her beloved clan take this final fall from grace. In Eve's mind, Clan Toreador should be full of warrior poets, the finest artists and the most cunning of warriors. She remembered the old days, Clan Toreador, the fastest of blades wielded with sweetest finesse. Artists who created the great works. Landmarks in the pages of history, both in the traditional arts and in the art of war. Not today's shadow of former glory, the faceless crowd of simpering fools bleating like sheep about some lump of dog shit, placed under a piece of glass and labelled art. Perhaps Eveshka was the last true Toreador. Other Elders crushed under the will of Meerlinda, the youth of the clan wandering from fad to fashion, like so many lost souls without purpose or direction. No, there would be no peace, not until Eve had restored some pride in her blood. Some pride in herself. This would be a test for her and in that testing, so would Julius also be judged. His art would be as crucial as any other.

And now she was returning. Returning from her first coup, her first stab at the establishment, the first ruffling of feathers. Bringing with her Rhiannon, Toreador Archon, her former lover, her former prince. The prize that had almost cost Eveshka her life. Almost cost Julius the thing that had brought him to this position. Outcast from his House and Clan, by choice, to follow Eve. That Meerlinda had used him as much as any other was now irrelevant, his die was cast. Even now, he judged, were the powers of his Clan deciding his fate. Could he in all conscience run the gauntlet of the Wizard's March? Running from the Jackals, doubtless forced to slay more and more powerful opponents, until the ground ran red with the blood of his kin, until finally he himself was taken down. Powerful he was, but not so powerful as to stand against the might of House Tremere united. His future was more uncertain then even that of Eveshka. What the Camarilla might tolerate, the House and Clan would not. The Oath of Tremere did not allow for desertion. It might be better simply to die at the first attack, lest he bend, like Eveshka, under the weight of endless and unforgiving guilt.

The door opened. Eve stood, bearing the weight of the Archon. Her once perfect skin addled with pustles and sores, burst blisters, raw red from the boiling of her own blood. In little better state was the Archon, thrown to the floor by his love in a gesture both sad and at the same time disgusted. Rhiannon's face half burnt away, the flesh melted about her mouth in a grinning parody of a death mask. The pair, like rotting zombies at once grotesque and horrific, the stench, the burnt flesh stink, hanging upon them like an abbatoir's perfume. Julius said nothing, simply gathering his power. For wounds like this, masses of blood would be required, both to fuel the spells and to provide them with a permanency which would last beyond the sunrise. Eveshka opened her mouth, about to plead with him not to do this, save his strength, she would be ok, it didn't hurt. Julius shook his head and held her mind in a vicelike grip. No protest, no argument. The spells he wove, he wove with strength and confidence, restoring both Eveshka and her Prince to their former beauty and as Morathi entered the room did he collapse, upon the floor, utterly spent.

[i:9195756e30]"They will be trouble."[/i:9195756e30] Victorrio half whispered, his eyes reflecting the brilliance of the French landscape. Illuminated by the stars above, each neon outline that snaked it's way across the horizon seemed brilliant and new.

[i:9195756e30]"When are they not?"[/i:9195756e30] Gabriel mused, adding the subtle click of the laptop's mousepad to the myriad of noises that could be heard from the train's interior. Victorrio, although fairly modernized by a Methusaleh's standards, had insisted on abstaining from air travel.

And so the Ventrue pair had made arrangements to travel from Rome to Paris, a trip that would take several nights at least. Victorrio had reasoned it would provide them enough time to formulate some type of strategy in dealing with the tumultuous events that seemed to be stalking his sole Grand-Childe as of late.

And so the duo sat idly in their private car, Victorrio watching the countryside spill out before him, and Gabriel emersing himself in stock fluctuations online. The screen flittered for a moment before blacking out completely and Gabriel glanced up to see Victorrio regarding him neutrally.

[i:9195756e30]"My apologies Victorrio."[/i:9195756e30] Gabriel said, still adjusting to the Elder's somewhat stringent social expectations. He withheld a sigh and shut the laptop and placed it aside. [i:9195756e30]"Julius Darrant is a man with vast resources, he'll have no problem protecting..."[/i:9195756e30]

[i:9195756e30]"I was referring to you."[/i:9195756e30] Victorrio interjected. Gabriel fell silent momentarily, weighing the statement.

[i:9195756e30]"To me?" he repeated.

[i]"You can't break contact with them yet. Eventually Ali will tire of waiting for you to lead him to them and will finish what he started."[/i:9195756e30]

Gabriel shook his head as he rose from his chair. As the train broke the treeline, the moon's soft glow was torn into silver streaks that created a strobe effect in the darkened cabin, slithering over furniture and figures alike. The Ancillae watched the Elder stand and move about the cabin, his figure somehow barely visible in the darkness yet invisible in the shafts of light.

[i:9195756e30]"What makes you think Ali is watching me?"[/i:9195756e30] Gabriel asked.

[i:9195756e30]"I would've thought you'd have figured that out by now. Why would a Methusaleh wake up and maim a fairly well known Kindred? If Ali wished to sate his bloodlust, he'd have done it by now on a great number of enemies."[/i:9195756e30] Victorrio appeared directly before the youth. [i:9195756e30]"He picked you for a reason. Namely your association with Julius and Eveshka."[/i:9195756e30]

[i:9195756e30]"Why would he be interested in them?"[/i:9195756e30] Gabriel asked, now curious as to what exactly the old man knew.

[i:9195756e30]"A good question. Undoubtedly they've crossed paths before. Perhaps you should ask them when next you meet."[/i:9195756e30] The train burst from the patch of trees and the room was once again bathed in the effervescene of the moon. [i:9195756e30]"But for now, perhaps I should explain a few things about the contact we'll be meeting in Paris...."[/i:9195756e30]

Entering the room quietly like a ghost in her white dress with 'Arataka' secure in its black sheath, Morathi silently assessed the scene. Julius her objective inert on the floor along with a elder Toreador she knew as Rhiannon, she had seen her on occasion in York and staggering to stand, healed by the magics Julius had cast that she had sensed halfway down the corridor on the way to the chamber was Eveshka...

She mused that if she had been tasked to hunt Julius down she may never be offered a better opportunity than this moment... But such was not her mandate, he was now an Anarch, and generally the Tremere would leave him to his own devices as long as he did not make waves or blatantly betray the secrets of the House and Clan. However a Pontifex that became anarch was something that had to be watched...

And to watch and to act as required was her mandate..

[i:cf8cbd2ac7]"Well this is an interesting dance you and Julius called the tune to Eveshka... And it seems I have become a part of if even if I would choose otherwise..."[/i:cf8cbd2ac7]

She remarked as she carefully approached Julius to assess his condition, maintaining a respectful distance from Eveshka as she did so, much in the same way a cub would cautiously move about a angered lioness.

[i:cf8cbd2ac7]"Julius has been declared Anarch by a Tribunal formed by the Council of Seven... It is possible for him to appeal if such is his wish.... I have been assigned to observe that he does not endanger the secrets or interests of House Tremere.... I will attempt to carry out this duty to the extent of my ability..."[/i:cf8cbd2ac7]

Morathi smiled regretfully...

[i:cf8cbd2ac7]"The last time we really met under your roof you sensed I had changed much since York... Yes I was officially promoted when I went to New Orleans and that duty changed me... I sired a Childe whilst there and this changed me too... And after a battle with a demoness my heart is truely no longer my own..."[/i:cf8cbd2ac7]

Morathi paused as she touched upon the subject of her enforced symbiosis with the ancient chinese wraith inside the cold diamond gemstone that pulsed in the place of her own heart, it was a topic she had never raised with anyone, even within her clan.

[i:cf8cbd2ac7]"...But it was my role in the battle against the Sabbat in New Orleans that changed me the most in the capacity of my unofficial promotion... Julius more than likely knows what I am within my House and why I am now obligated to watch him.... The bonds of blood and our art are never easy to truely escape...... This is most likely to be the last duty I can openly serve my House and Clan... By my former association with Julius and my existing official disgrace following the fall of New Orleans.... Many inside my clan will regard me as joining with him as an anarch by coming here to monitor him..." [/i:cf8cbd2ac7]

She nodded towards Rhiannon...

[i:cf8cbd2ac7]"So Eveshka.... I see your own clan have sent old friends against you.... I must ask... Will you seek to stand in the way of my duty or let me serve it... You know I fell in love with you in York... Please do not force me to choose between my love or my duty... I cannot assure you which will win...."[/i:cf8cbd2ac7]

Eveshka dominated Rhiannon yet again and crawled over to the fireplace that was thankfully unlit. She grabbed a chunk of wood and snapped it in two. She struggled to her feet and plunged it into Rhiannon's heart. She looked over at Morathi standing in her white dress and felt a pang of anger. It left her as quickly as it came.

"So, Lucilla, you are in league with them too," said Eveshka more as an accusation than a statement.

[i:3d9d9b8d4a]"Eveshka... I am a faithful agent of my House and Clan... I answer to the Council of Seven of which Meerlinda is but one member of... Despite Meerlinda being my immediate superior I serve the combined interests of the Council of my House and Clan... That Council voted a different course of action than Meerlinda called for herself in light of Julius' decision..." [/i:3d9d9b8d4a]

Calmly she presented her chest, nodding towards the other peice of wood in Eveshka's hand, her eyes meeting her mentors...

[i:3d9d9b8d4a]"Would you seek to blame me for doing my duty... Julius turned away from our Clan that was his choice and he knew that I or others like me would come eventually... They could have decided to send me to attempt his destruction instead I am simply to watch him and in doing so I will be treated as much as an exile as he will be by those in my House that are unaware of my task... I have never knowingly worked against you in the course of my duty and have no intention of starting now unless you force me to..."[/i:3d9d9b8d4a]

Calmly she awaited Eveshka's move, in practical terms the wood would offer little threat to the diamond that replaced her heart, but it was a symbol of Eveshka's intent, she could not bring herself to initiate a battle with Eveshka...

[i:3d9d9b8d4a]"I did not come here to fight you Eveshka... You and Julius set the stage with the opening act and now we must all play the parts the directors have assigned..."[/i:3d9d9b8d4a]

((The stake that Eve made is in Rhiannon's heart now, thus she does not have one in her hand anymore))

"You may think that you serve your clan, but you are unwittingly serving someone's sinister end. Meerlinda's and Abetorius' I suspect," said Eveshka, still on her knees next to Rhiannon. "Do you honestly think that a reigning Pontifex would just up and leave his clan? One to whom House and Clan meant everything?" Eveshka shook her head. "If you are that myopic, then you are truly beaten already."

Eveshka regarded Morathi, but made no attempts at seducing or influencing her with Presence if any kind. "I would not seek to blame you for doing your duty, just ask yourself which master you serve." Eveshka motioned down towards the staked Rhiannon. "This is the end result of my once beloved sister doing HER duty, as she felt it. In the end she was merely the unwitting puppet for someone else."

Eveshka rose and faced Morathi squarly. "Duty or no, Morathi, this is my domain, and the rules of Caine must still be obeyed, even by one such as you. I did not invite you here, nor did I give you permission to enter. Kindly remove yourself unless you change your motivations for being here."

Morathi smiled ruefully...

[i:a6d1ad9bc6]"The penalties of transgressing the rules of Caine may be enforced upon such as I if I break them... But I am not compelled to obey them if breaking them results in my duty being completed... That said I see no point in needlessly breaking any rules.... In coming to meet you openly I am respecting your domain... I have presented you and the Anarch with the Council's verdict.... Know that we will be watching... The rest is in the Anarch's' hands... Good eve Milady..."[/i:a6d1ad9bc6]

She bowed and turned to leave, heading directly towards where her motorcycle was parked....


________________________
(( OOC: Sorry if this seemed curt, I was about to head off to a job interview (Incidently it went reasonably smoothly, we will just have to see how it goes), as for the stake thing well it seemed if you broke something in two there would be two bits :wink: ))

((Oh right... just leave me lying on the floor close to torpor whilst you have your little tete a tete :p))

Eveshka went over to Julius and healed him with her Panacea.

"Wake up, Love, the game is afoot," she said. She picked him up with an ease that belied her appearance and carried him to the main bedchamber. It had not been used in some time by her, centuries as a matter of fact. The caretakers had kept the place up reasonably well however. She pulled back the magnificent duvet and laid her Regent on it. Without a word she left the room to where Rhiannon lay staked in the Great Hall. With a much different expression on her face, Eveshka picked up one arm and dragged her unceremoniously into a different bedroom and propped her up against the wall beneath a window with curtains drawn.

"What do I do with you now," she asked, looking at Rhiannon with both love and hatred. It had always been that way with her. Just in the past, the side of her that adored Rhiannon usually was in control. This time it was different. "Drain you?" Eveshka responded to Rhiannon's imagined answer. "Hmmmm, not a bad idea." And so she did. She did not diablerize Rhiannon, she merely drained her into what would be a permanent torpor if she were not fed intravenously. Eveshka wiped her mouth off and didn't bother to clean up Rhiannon as she lay in torpor.

A few minutes later Eveshka walked into the main bedchamber where Julius lay and sat down on the bed with him. He was still unconscious. She brushed his hair with her hands, starting at the temples and moving back behind the ears much like a nuturing mother would do for a sick child. "Julius, wake up," she whispered. She continued to caresse his hair until his eyes opened up. She smiled as he looked at her.

Just for a moment, Julius lost himself within Eveshka's perfect blue eyes. "The thought that I might one day not be able to awaken to your face..." Julius trailed off. "I love you so. Please don't ever scare me like that again."

"You'll tire of me soon." Eveshka teased. "Find some other floosy to entertain you."

"As if.." He answered, entwining his fingers into her hair and pulling her to meet his hungry lips.

"Morathi was here." Eveshka said quietly, her face still close to his, their lips almost touching. "You have been declared Anarch by your Clan. She has been tasked to watch over you." Eveshka's eyes seemed to drill into his, as if committing to memory every detail of their makeup.

"Then I have a lot of work to do......" he trailed off as Eve's eyes darkened first in a minute shock and then narrowed down as frustration sank it's teeth into her libido. She began to sit back up but Julius's lips quirked up with a mischievious little grin, ".....but, first, this!" And he crushed his mouth to hers.

Eveshka pulled away, with a girlish chuckle. Standing up, she began a slow strip tease. Julius's ardour rose with each piece of discarded clothing and when he took her in his arms again, he held nothing back, giving his all and taking in equal measure ensuring they both would have the highest possible pleasure in their coupling.

Later, as Eve lay sleeping in deep satisfaction, Julius rolled away from her and let his brain begin the process of planning the next steps to be taken. Something that would keep the Justicars and the Archons guessing. Something that would... his eyes took on a glow in the dark.

---

The finest jeweller in Touraine was surprised to find himself opening his shop in the small hours of the morning, but then his customer was looking for something very specific. Money and goods were exchanged and as the man in the designer suit left in his Ferrari, it occurred to the jeweller that he had never found out the customer's name.

Much like the library of the Haus Du Hexe, so was the library of Julius Darrant. It had it's front, a small bookshop. It had it's hidden rooms, to which access was limited and it had it's inner sanctum, to which only Julius could enter. The content of that library was much hinted at within Clan Tremere, yet it's location had never been found or truly explored. Once again, the House and Clan was lost in tradition, never considering that a book no longer had to be printed upon paper. The written word, in any language, translated well to an electronic medium and so it was with a wry grin that Julius logged on to the most secure part of his private files.

The writings of House Verditius were among his most valuable books. Verditius, that great crafter of items both magical and mundane, it would be his knowledge from which Julius would draw his inspiration for this great work. Already it had proven valuable, guiding his choice of the base item. The Doctrine of Signatures, "The attributes without mirror the powers within." suggested the correct material.

Eveshka waited patiently, not knowing what Julius was up to in that study he had so long ago co-opted for his lab. Even she, though, could sense that some great magic was being worked in the chateau that night and she knew, from long experience, that Julius took on such works neither lightly, nor for trivial reasons and so she was content to wait upon the result of his night's work.

Silver. Silver to reflect an image, enchanted silver to reflect magic, anyone attempting to scry upon the wearer would get a nasty jolt from a magical feedback loop. But more, a gift, something to show his love. The two silver circles upon which he worked had been drawn from the same vein of ore. The principle of contagion, " Once together, always together" would allow the wearers to maintain contact. When one was in trouble, the other would know. Symbols of their new life, to replace the symbols they had thrown away.

It was a strangely shy Julius who called Eveshka into his study as the dawn began to consider casting it's first light across the land. Within, set upon black velvet were two matching rings, each one crafted of two intertwined silver bands. The first was set with a sapphire, deepest blue to match Eveshka's eyes. The second held a star ruby, fire and lightning to match the deep seated powers burning within the heart of the magus who had crafted them.

"Eveshka, my dearest heart, will you accept this gift?" He said, taking the sapphire set silver delicately in his hand. "As replacement for the ring you discarded and in token of my love for you?"

[i:8c1124e7aa]((With thanks to Lady Cyrilynn))[/i:8c1124e7aa]

Eveshka looked at Julius in astonishment. "Free me first Julius. Free me so that I may truly know that it is my own honest desire that is accepting your gift." She smiled at him with blood tears ringing her azule eyes.

Julius smiled gently. "Of course, you had but to ask. All I ever wanted was you to be free. Free for your own choices." Laying the ring gently back upon the black velvet, he gestured to a chair. "Please, take a seat. This will take but a moment."

Eveshka looked puzzled. "No blood and potions and coffins?"

"Normally yes, as you know so well, love. But in this case, the bond is to me, that gives me quite the level of control. It being my own... you know, I have an idea." Julius' eyes glinted as his brain worked overtime.

"Instead of shattering the bond, perhaps instead I will simply soften it. You would not be bound to me, in the traditional sense. Your will would be entirely your own. However, that element of the bond which prevents others from bonding you, would remain. You would be, in effect, unbonded and unbondable."

Eveshka's brow furrowed. "What if I were to drink more of your blood?"

"No problem. If anything that would strengthen your protection."

"Then do it, Julius. Free me!"

Julius consulted with his skull and his electronic library to get the correct elements for the ritual. It was, indeed, simple as he had hoped. Some few minutes later, it was complete.

Julius grinned, "Now thrall" he began, "stand on your head and whistle the theme to Magnum."

Eveshka shot him a look.

"I guess it worked then." He continued. Then in a gentler, more tender voice, "What will you do then, with your new freedom?"

She held out her hand, the hand that many had sought in love, passion, deception, obsession, or hatred. With a smile on her face she said, "I would have your ring on my finger, Julius."

[i:3c2e0f9363]"We're here."[/i:3c2e0f9363] Victorrio's detached voice filled Gabriel's head, instantly snapping him to attention. Soft milk-like radiance poured in through the sedan's windows, giving the space that hung between the youth and his elder an almost paranormal ruddiness.

They exited the car with no production and entered what he perceived to be a warehouse of some sort. 'How fitting.' he nearly said aloud. Tattersail, from Victorrio's brief description, was some type of relic from the Golden Age of Piracy.

A swashbuckling rogue no doubt, with a glinting smile and a neatly pressed white buccaneer's jerkin. Rapier ripping through the air, etc etc, roll the credits.

Didn't sound like any Nosferatu he'd ever encountered...

An odd tranquility passed over him as they moved through the warehouses interior, pausing only momentarily to greet an elderly Asian fellow who apparently acted as watch. The gristled, hunched figure glanced over the pair of well dressed callers and grinned a gapped tooth smile.

They passed unhindered, down a discreetly placed stairway composed entirely of stone.

[b:e2fed91610]Tatters[/b:e2fed91610]

[u:e2fed91610]The Isle of Eigg, Scotland.[/u:e2fed91610]

The beetle scurried on. In it's miniscule short life it would never develop a sense of self. It would never contemplate it's place in the cruel world it inhabited. Nor would it everdebate, with it's twitching antennae, right and wrong.

Instead it would trundle on it's jointed legs, bearing only the smallest weight of it's world on it's chitinous back. It crossed the line between sanctuary and doom, as it searched for rotting leaves with which to fuel it's tiny core. Simple? Yes. But some things are best kept simple. It reacted to it's environment as accorded it by instinct. Fear didn't lord over it's armoured frame as light sensors detected a shadow fall over it.

As quickly as the beetle's journey had begun, it ended in the beak of a sparrow. The bird may or may not have had a greater sense of self than it's crunchy prey. That was irrelevant. What mattered was that the sparrow's chicks would have food to fuel their growth.

It flew gracefully and with practiced ease towards the bundle of grasses and twigs that supported it's young.

And so it was.

Every day, Porter would "watch" the nest. Content to reach out with his substantial senses, and monitor the progress from egg to chick to fledgling.

Every night, the ancient Gangrel would hunt the blasted heath and clif faces of the northern coast of Eigg. Returning to the soil below the tree the birds called home as dawn approached.

But this day, as the bird circled the tree, it sensed something was wrong. As assuredly as it's eyes told it it's nest had been destroyed. Porter's vampiric senses told him the same. He could taste the dead chicks lying on the topsoil, the vibrations of tiny feet as the soil's residents approached the recent feast. A beetle not unlike that which the bird had slain, began to munch on the freshly dead chicks. Were he not so incensed with his [i:e2fed91610]foster[/i:e2fed91610] family's murder, Porter would have found it ironic.

But he was furious!

The sparrow, seemingly incapable of grief, flittered around her nest. Confused as to why her chicks wouldn't call to her. She finally gave up. Her departure bolstered by the shaking of the earth. The rumbling of the tree's bough as the resting Gangrel shook with anger.

He began to reach out. Encouraged by the thousands of accusing voices that led him to the family's killers. Bird and insect witnesses to the fact. Surging through the soil like some massive, malevolent flatworm, he sought revenge.

By dawn the next day, beetles had found a new banquet. Covered by leaves and topsoil, desiccated by blood loss. The bodies of two ignorant and foolish hikers lay where the Gangrel had discovered their camp. The tent and equipment dragged underground by rope-like vampiric coils.

Sated, yet not stisfied. Porter slithered from his tunnels, descending into the cove below. His body returning to it's humanoid form as he swam into the rock littered depths.