Rome, Italy: March 28th, 2002 5:47 PM


Donatella Lucente plucked a small trace of lint from her impeccably tailored suit and let it fall to the marble floor below. Her efforts to present herself as an unmovable, indifferent agent of capital had not been in vain. Her thick, raven hair was pulled back tightly into a bun. Thin wire rimmed glasses lined a pair of brown, cavalier eyes. Pale skin bore mortal wrinkles, tiny imperfections that because of Cain’s blood would follow her through eternity. She had been nearly forty-three when first she had first met Anthony.

The courtship had been brief and entirely a farce. How could she have known that even as she whispered hopes of true love and marriage to her friends, that he was reporting his progress to undead masters? Eventually, he opened the world to her, showing her the true ways of things.

She was a peon in a gigantic chess game between the Ancients. A mere ghoul, but better an eternal ghoul than a insignificant human. She had proved herself to be an outstanding secretary and assistant to her new master. Through the decades, she had performed her duties to a tee, eventually gaining the honor of meeting Anthony’s master, the Prince of Rome.

He had taken particular interest in her, much to her delight, and had demanded that Anthony turn over her services to him. She worked for Morkarlov now.

He ran Rome and it’s many partisans from behind the scenes with puppet like ease. She merely assisted in the smaller details that were not worthy of his time.

Currently, she reclined in the posh chair, it’s floral designs clashing harshly with her solid black suit. The man across from her scratched his balding head once more, obviously uncomfortable with such a proposal. He scratched a few notes down on his notepad, the seal of the Grand Hotel Plaza blaring from the top of the paper. He looked up to her once more.

“So, please Ms. Lucente, help me understand,” he said slowly, enveloping each word, “you want to rent out the ENTIRE hotel for several days AND provide your own staff?”

“That’s correct.” she said blandly. There was little point in mincing words with this type of Kine.

“Our insurance just cannot cover it Miss. We simply cannot ABANDON our hotel to complete strangers! Such a suggestion is simply....” Donatella sat forward, produced a folded slip of paper from her inner coat pocket and sliding it across the oak desk fluidly.

“I’m authorized to offer up to this amount.” Her tone was dry and impatient. She watched as he opened the paper and his eyes widened. Even for a man who was used to dealing with the rich, he was obviously not expecting to be dealing with such an amount.

“I...I....” he stammered.

“We have an agreement then Mr. Pollini?” she asked coldly. He set the paper down on the desk.

“No, I’m afraid I cannot agree to this, not for any amount.” The heavy office door opened and a cold draft filled the room. Donatella glanced out the window and saw the purple hues of a freshly set sun soaking on the horizon. Of course, this was too important to Morkarlov, he would leave nothing to chance.

“That is a shame indeed Mr. Pollini.” a rich, calming voice said. Donatella turned her head slightly and glanced towards the door. A tall man, long black hair draped over his shoulders, stood at the door. In his pallid fingers he held a single crimson rose, presumably plucked from the arrangement that sat outside the ornate office. Pale lips moved back to reveal a fanged smile. “Perhaps I can persuade you otherwise.”

“Mr. Pollini,” Donatella said softly, standing from the chair, “may I introduce Anthony Giggliotti, your new master.” Pollini’s bulbous head was covered in sweat that glistened in the rapidly approaching twilight.

“M..my new what?” he cried out.

_________________
Some of us are destined for higher purposes. Things not of this plane, missions you cannot fathom. My purpose is clear, and no one will stand in my way.

[ This Message was edited by: Gabriel on 2002-03-28 14:05 ]

(( Woah , very cool post man :smile: ))

((he he, that dude's gonna need :help: !

(sorry still enjoying the new smilies)
It would be :pistols: on the vamp...no? just an :idea: , altough the guy's fate is probably the dark :kiss: ...am I right?? lol)))

Rome, Italy: March 30th, 2002 7:15 PM

Rome's ancient streets and alleyways buzzed with activity, the condensation of people even more compacted than usual. Good Friday had come and gone, and hundreds of thousands of Catholics had made their pilgrimage to the Vadican.

Unknownst to the obtuse worshippers, the undead arrived would soon be among them, the heavy influx covering their arrival. Their twisted limousines, bought with blood money, would wind their way up Rome's roads and corrupt even the purest of sanctions.

On an unlit street corner, Rome's Kindred Sheriff, Dean Solento, made final preperations. He was a tall man, thick and powerful. His hot Brujah blood had worked several times to his advantage, propelling his massive limbs through the air with beast like rage.

His face was thick and lined by powerful sharp jaws. Long curly black hair showered his brawny shoulders and upper back. He spoke in a near whisper to the thin man cloaked in shadows who stood near him.

"So you're clear on your objectives?" Dean asked, flicking his cigarette butt into the gathering rain.

Under the gentle glow of the moon, his companions eyes shone like scarabs. A thick beard protruded from his chin, but much of his face remained concealed in the shadows.

"It is clear." he said, a wry smile exposing long curved fangs. The Sheriff glanced around once more, wary of onlookers. He turned from the man and lit another cigarette, cupping his hand to block the rain.

"Alright, then get out of here." he hissed through grit teeth, as he held his cigarette in place. A low chuckle, long and steady, wafted through the night air behind him. "I said get out..."

The Brujah whirled around to face his companion but found only a street corner bustling with Kine. He sighed and began making his way back towards Elysium. Dangerous times.....

:pistols: (Very nice work Gabe :pistols: :pistols: :devil:



:abduct: