[i:1223d05c65]"Well, that's kind of disappointingly dull."[/i:1223d05c65] Said M.

George shrugged.

[i:1223d05c65]"The point of the exercise was to test her intellect."[/i:1223d05c65] Observed A with a voice dry as rustling paper. [i:1223d05c65]"She has bought herself some time, but still has consequences to deal with. The blood on the steps. The reports of the bodies and now, a collection of Gendarmes to deal with. To kill them would create further problems. She will need to delete the entire situation, perhaps not as easy as it sounds."[/i:1223d05c65]

[i:1223d05c65]"We have two alternatives. The situation can be manipulated to become a test of power. From here, with little effort, an armed siege of the cathedral can be initiated. Alternatively, we can wait and see how she deals with the situation. To avoid an armed siege from this position will be an exercise in itself."[/i:1223d05c65]

[i:1223d05c65]"We'll wait for now."[/i:1223d05c65] Said George. [i:1223d05c65]"I want to see her think her way out of this."[/i:1223d05c65] He looked at his watch. [i:1223d05c65]"I would think her newly conscripted constabulary are overdue to report in, by now. Especially for twelve corpses."[/i:1223d05c65]

The four policemen reported back to the prefecture of Tours. Apparently, according to them, it had been some odd college prank. Nobody had been killed or even remotely harmed. Unfortunately, those responsible got away into the darkness. How she would deal with the twelve families who would start to wonder where their loved ones went was another thing entirely. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

The next night, Eveshka sat in her office in Club Purgatory. While the usual orgies raged around her out on the dance floor, in the VIP section, and anywhere slightly secluded, she brooded.

"Sinistra," she said to a lovely oriental woman wearing something revealing that belonged on a comic book superheroine.... or villain. "Someone is playing with us and I don't like it."

Sinistra merely blinked her beautiful almond shaped eyes, much like a cherished pet would contendedly blink at her mistress when she is being spoken to.

"Worship I will permit," said Eve. "But that was not by my command or done in my name."

"But it said your name," said Sinistra rather dumbly.

"No... that little display took my name in vain. I will not have it," Eveshka said as she looked over into the shadows and saw fleeting glimpses of the shadowy form of her former lover and partner. "Do you hear me Tromador? I won't have it."

The young asian vampire named Sinistra looked over to where Eve was talking and saw nothing. Even with her heightened senses, all she saw was intricate patterns of the hewn stone. It was quite lovely really. How the textures swirled and blendedtogether forming a seemless yetslightly evanescent form inthestonethatspoke inestimablevolumesof truthsalluniversalinnatureand "SINISTRA!!!" commanded Eveshka.

Sinistra shook her head as the rapture ended.

"Yes, Mistress?" she asked.

"Go.... fuck someone's brains out," she waved dismissively at the woman. Sinistra smiled and flitted from the room off on a new and exciting mission of debauchery that would end in a feeding frenzy and perhaps the death of yet another vessel.

Eveshka sat alone in the office for several long minutes.

"Why are you doing this to me Trommy?" she asked the corner where she felt George to be.

A sudden rush of wind caused Eveshka to turn. Written in letters of blood upon one of her favourite paintings were the words.

[i:1578d7f16b]You think yourself invulnerable?
You are vulnerable.
You think you cannot be touched?
You can be touched.
You think yourself infallible?
You are fallible.[/i:1578d7f16b]

She stared for a moment, until the rasp fizz sound of striking match caused her to turn back to the empty space she had previously addressed. The black robed figure stood, a lit match burning between bloody fingers which dripped rich red vitae onto the priceless carpet, a small crimson stain slowly growing at his feet. The match moved slowly into the recesses of the hood, to give rise to a glowing orange dot and an exhalation of blue-grey smoke. With a flick the burning match flew end over end through the air, it's final resting place the leather top desk, where the heat left it's mark before it fizzled and died.

The bloody fingers moved into the hood, returning with a cigarette, it's white paper bloodstained as the floor, the smoke curling and writhing up past the dripping wound. Though no chaos shone from his face, no tell-tale green pinpricks of light, Eveshka knew the eyes hidden in the shadowed face were boring into her like diamond tip drills. For a moment, she felt naked. She had been without clothes more times and for more reasons, than she cared to remember, but never before had she felt naked; vulnerable as if those piercing yet concealed eyes could see through to her core. The cigarette disappeared once again into the hood, it's glow brightening for a moment as the figure took another drag, expelling another cloud of tobacco smoke into the room.

[i:1578d7f16b]"No more subtlety than the most naive childer."[/i:1578d7f16b] Came the mocking voice.

[i:1578d7f16b]"As delicate as a hard fired brick. Why not throw it through the window? You'd have done it yourself sooner or later. Everyone knows about you."[/i:1578d7f16b]

Another puff of the cigarette. [i:1578d7f16b]"[b:1578d7f16b]Everyone.[/b:1578d7f16b]"[/i:1578d7f16b] Pause... puff...

[i:1578d7f16b]"They'd have come for you. Eventually. Why waste everyone's time with the wait?"[/i:1578d7f16b] The voice reeked of scorn, derision and bored dissaffection. [i:1578d7f16b]"What's the point, Eveshka Shuvolov? Let's see them kill you and have done."[/i:1578d7f16b]

A final puff and exhalation of smoke, before the cigarette was allowed to fall to the floor, where it hissed and steamed for a moment in the pool of blood, before being ground in underfoot. Almost as if he hadn't realised, the figure licked the bleeding finger to staunch the wound.

[i:1578d7f16b]"What's the matter?"[/i:1578d7f16b] Said George to the stunned Eveshka. [i:1578d7f16b]"Cat got your tongue?"[/i:1578d7f16b]

Her eyes flashed angrily at her former lover, partner. and ally. She spoke an incantation while raising her arms and a swarm of wraiths appeared around her.

"Who are YOU to say such things to me?" she said in a loud voice exuding all of her powers of presence. "You, who crawled away on some cowardly search for enlightenment. Do the voices of Malkav still speak inside your head Tromador?" George, although powerful, was still several hundred years and several generations younger than Eve. He could not resist her. He stood there dumbly as the tempestuous Russian beauty grew into a towering rage.

"Everyone DOES know about me. Soon everyone will WORSHIP me," she cried in a voice that sounded as if several Eveshkas were speaking the words at the same time but in slightly higher or lower pitches. "I AM A LIVING GODDESSSSS." The last word ended in a snakelike hiss.

The mists appeared around her and formed into Eve's twenty beautiful childer as the wraiths swarmed around the office. The women could all plainly see a man standing there in the corner in dark robes. They awaited Eve's instructions.

If George could not resist her, M could.

George suddenly relaxed. [i:9d33c72f53]"So, you are powerful still. Congratulations."[/i:9d33c72f53] He clapped his hands together, slowly in mock applause. [i:9d33c72f53]"But not that powerful..."[/i:9d33c72f53] He lit another cigarette. [i:9d33c72f53]"These are your allies, yes?"[/i:9d33c72f53] The 20 beautiful, but impossibly young and naive childer looked to their mistress smugly. Tromador took a drag on his cigarette.

[i:9d33c72f53][b:9d33c72f53]"BOO!"[/b:9d33c72f53][/i:9d33c72f53] He shouted at them. Twenty fledgling vampires fell to the floor screaming in terror at the nightmares, their worst fears each made manifest before them.

Puff on cigarette and blow into Eveshka's face. [i:9d33c72f53]"You can kill me now. Go ahead, give me final death. Release me. I long since made peace with the world. [b:9d33c72f53]I[/b:9d33c72f53] do not fear [b:9d33c72f53]you[/b:9d33c72f53]."[/i:9d33c72f53]

Eveshka raised her hand, her fury now a tempest of rage, ready to snuff this insolent pig out of her world for good. [i:9d33c72f53]"Of course..."[/i:9d33c72f53] Continued George, casually dragging once again on his cigarette. [i:9d33c72f53]"...My allies are of sterner stuff and they know exactly where I am."[/i:9d33c72f53]

She snapped her fingers and the wraiths disappeared. She looked at her Daughters cowering on the floor with contempt, but also a little bit of pity. They were HER daughters afterall. She looked at George and with no attempts at dominating him simply asked,

"Why are you here?"

[i:1cc08cd17a]"Subject displays a remarkable lack of intelligence."[/i:1cc08cd17a] Said A, appearing behing Eveshka's desk and apparently scrawling notes with a quill pen upon parchment.

George chuckled.

[i:1cc08cd17a]"What's so funny?"[/i:1cc08cd17a] Demanded Eve.

[i:1cc08cd17a]"Hmm?"[/i:1cc08cd17a] George pointed to the empty chair. [i:1cc08cd17a]"He doesn't think you're very bright. He, on the other hand."[/i:1cc08cd17a] George pointed to M who was standing behind Eve making crude pelvic thrusting motions. [i:1cc08cd17a]"Wants to screw your brains out."[/i:1cc08cd17a]

Eve looked around. Nobody but Tromador. Still a fuckhead malk reject then. Eveshka never could stand a malkavian. If much about her had changed, that was constant as the Earth's rotation.

[i:1cc08cd17a]"I guess they must think you are an airhead, good for little else but the hole between your legs."[/i:1cc08cd17a]

[i:1cc08cd17a]"[b:1cc08cd17a]Why[/b:1cc08cd17a] are you here, George."[/i:1cc08cd17a] Repeated Eve, somewhere between losing patience, exasperation and irritability.

George carried on as if he hadn't heard her. [i:1cc08cd17a]"Of course, as they are constructs of my own mind, maybe [b:1cc08cd17a]I[/b:1cc08cd17a] think that, unless they are true sendings of Malkav, in which case maybe it's [b:1cc08cd17a]him[/b:1cc08cd17a] that thinks you're nothing but a fuckable pussy. Who can tell?"[/i:1cc08cd17a]

[i:1cc08cd17a]"By now, you are probably wondering what I am doing here."[/i:1cc08cd17a]

Eve clenched her fists and ground her teeth.

[i:1cc08cd17a]"Well, they had this idea. I mean, not [b:1cc08cd17a]them[/b:1cc08cd17a], the guys, of course. Though they also have wonderful ideas. That darling girl I sent you in the chapel, that was his idea. You behaved precisely according to predictions you know. It's almost as though you are running on purely instinctual behaviour patterns."[/i:1cc08cd17a] George turned to A, still sat in the chair. [i:1cc08cd17a]"Make a note of that will you, instinctual behaviour patterns."[/i:1cc08cd17a] A nodded and scribbled furiously.

Eve raised a foot.

George's affable tone vanished as he turned upon Eveshka, green chaos orbs burning with a malevolent madness. [i:1cc08cd17a]"Yes, go ahead, stamp it, prove I can push your buttons, just as I have since I was sent to you."[/i:1cc08cd17a] Eveshka flinched, this new Tromador bore little resemblance to the one of her former acquaintance. This new Tromador could drip malice from his tongue with careless abandon. [i:1cc08cd17a]"You used to admire my Ventrue blood, my ability to mould those around me. Now you have become just like those weak minded fools."[/i:1cc08cd17a]

[i:1cc08cd17a]"I was sent to observe you, monitor you and your 'Daughters of Ishtar'. To assess if you might be a threat to our kind. To Kindred. Or to see what value there would be in you and yours. We are the judges, we are are the monitors. Our purpose is a higher calling than your foolish jyhad. All of Cain's brood is our responsibility. I find you unworthy. You are nothing more than a harlot playing out her fantasies. Soon the hunters will come for you. If they do not, then the Camarilla will. When they have all failed, when you have destroyed their strongest and in the process caused such a stink and loss of life, kindred and kine, then, on that day we will have to intervene directly."[/i:1cc08cd17a]

[i:1cc08cd17a]"And who is we?"[/i:1cc08cd17a] Eveshka fairly spat the words.

[i:1cc08cd17a]"The real power, of course. The Iconnu."[/i:1cc08cd17a] Replied George.

" [i:5eade69a1d] Well that explains a lot, [/i:5eade69a1d]" thought Eve.

"I'm not a part of the idiotic Jyhad. I'm out for something bigger and better. You of all people should know that the Camarilla and the Sabbat are the same damned thing. I am on a mission to eradicate baseness and the grotesque. I will be a Goddess of Light and Beauty for all the world. A shining beacon in the darkest night."

"They will come from all around the world to worship at my altar, to sacrifice themselves to my glory and my radiance."

Her eyes were alive with manic fervor, her majesty was being exuded at the max. Again George fell to it, as did Eve's Childer standing around her. And again, M, broke through with the naughty thoughts of a teenage school boy.

George laughed a bit.

"You are as insane as I, Lady Shuvolov."

Eve shook her hair from her eyes and looked at him as if he were a heretic.

"And what will you do with the world when you have it?" asked George.

Eveshka looked at him silently. She hadn't quite considered that one.

"I will rule it." she said after a moment.

"Ah," said George. "Well, that should be interesting. The whole place will be rather like Amsterdam after dark. Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll."

"It will be nothing of the sort."

"Right, and you didn't just manipulate the Arch-Bishop of Tours, lucky though the old geezer was, to fuck the shit out of a 16 year old virgin on the High Altar?"

"Don't try my patience whelp."

"Do it. Destroy me, you'd be doing me a favor," said George with complete disattached nonchalance.

"Arghh," cried Eve in exasperation. "LEAVE!!!!" she cried and hurled a fireball at where George stood. But he was gone in a flash of smoke before the ball ever reached him.

The next night, Eveshka stood in her training salle with her signature Wakazashi and Katana practicing against a reknowned martial arts expert from Japan. She knew that he was a vampire of some sort, but she could not figure out just WHAT he was. HE was not a childe of Caine, that was sure, yet he was undead. Whatever it was, they had an agreeable relationship. Oddly enough it had nothing to do with sex, which for Eve was VERY unusual. He seemed to just want knowledge about western vampires. As she was a rather old one, she could give him some.

The training went night after night as she brushed up on her fighting techniques. She knew that she had been rash with Tromador, knew that she further never actually hit him with the fireball, but also knew that he was bug shit nutters. Fuck only knows what he would do, if anything. But, she knew that the hunters were after her so she needed to be ready. By the end of the week, she was as fast and lethal as Shinju, the Japanese gentleman. By the end of the third week she was faster. She was back in her fighting prime. Hopefully they wouldn't come calling, but if they did, she'd be ready.

Tromador sat, watching M lead a colourful procession of assorted freaks around the room. He knew well enough that they were nothing more than a figment of his deranged mind, he knew well enough that it was nothing more than M using various means to keep him vaguely under control. However, as he figured it, seeing as M was nothing more than a figment of his deranged mind, then it was probably ok to be influenced by him. At the end of the day, who was to say which parts of his mind were valid and which were not? Best to let all parts have their equal opportunities.

The flip side of this, was that had anyone been watching, they would have seen a strange looking, pale skinned man in a black robe staring into space, giggling now and then. More than likely they would have wondered what was in the cigarettes he was smoking, but they couldn't have known the smoke was an affectation and had no effect on his undead body.

[i:a5e4228fec]"I hate to rain on your parade, M."[/i:a5e4228fec] He said at length. [i:a5e4228fec]"We should probably..."[/i:a5e4228fec]

Suddenly the procession vanished, leaving only M.

[i:a5e4228fec]"That gives me an idea."[/i:a5e4228fec] Said M slyly. [i:a5e4228fec]"It wasn't very nice of her to fireball you like that."[/i:a5e4228fec]

[i:a5e4228fec]"No, not especially."[/i:a5e4228fec] Said George, examining the singed hem of his robed. [i:a5e4228fec]"We did go out of our way to wind her up though."[/i:a5e4228fec]

[i:a5e4228fec]"That's no excuse."[/i:a5e4228fec] Said M waggling his finger at George. [i:a5e4228fec]"You know, I'm sure her bouncers are good, but I wonder how good they really are. Shall we find out?"[/i:a5e4228fec]

Even at this early hour, Club Purgatory was full to bursting with cavorting bodies dancing around each other, pairing (or more than pairing) off and finding any available free space to indulge their carnal passions. George arrived, slipping past the bouncer (who had strict instructions NOT to admit him) with ease. He was followed by a drum beating M, who was followed in turn by the freak show who were singing [i:a5e4228fec]"Rain on her parade, we're gonna rain on her parade!"[/i:a5e4228fec] at the tops of their lungs.

Within twenty minutes, the whole complexion of the place had changed, as the revellers found their partners had changed into hideous monsters, sporting tentacles and sharp teeth. Many tried to run, only to be stopped by others who believed the runners were dreadful abominations. within another five minutes, it was no longer an orgy of pleasure, but had become an orgy of violence. Naked bodies now rioted through the place, smashing each other with bar stools, glasses, fists or whatever came to hand as each one tried to defend themselves from a room full of slavering monstrocities.

[i:a5e4228fec]"You know."[/i:a5e4228fec] Mused George to M. [i:a5e4228fec]"I used to find these kinds of pranks really irritating."[/i:a5e4228fec]

[i:a5e4228fec]"Yes, but yours have more style."[/i:a5e4228fec] Said M. [i:a5e4228fec]"Uh oh... There's Eve, we better make ourselves scarce."[/i:a5e4228fec]

Outside George headed for the nearest payphone. [i:a5e4228fec]"Police? Yes... there's a full scale riot in progress at the Club Purgatory."[/i:a5e4228fec]

George grinned, even if Eve could calm it all down, when the police arrived, the naked, battered and bleeding bodies would take some explaining. As an afterthought, he implanted a suggestion into the nervous doorman's (who weren't going anywhere near a riot like that, thankyou very much) minds. Anyone in a police uniform would now appear as monstrous to the doormen as the rioters within appeared to each other.

Eveshka stood out front of her club talking to the police chief. It had taken quite an ordeal to get everyone calmed down and carted away. The riot squad of the Tours Gendarmerie had just left. The club was in shambles. The Maire and the chief of police had long been bound to Eve so having them delay reports and falsify documents wasn't a problem. What WAS a problem were the reports that had surely already leaked out to the "powers that be" of Cainite society. She knew damned well that it was Tromador's idiotic dabblings that caused this outburst. She would have to do something about it.

"Fair enough," she thought to herself as she wrote a formal draft to the Camarilla and sent it off. She picked up the phone and called Madame Guil and told of her of problems. Madame Guil was solicitous.

"I'll be down tomorrow night, Eveshka," said the Toreador Justicar.

Eveshka hanged up the phone and thought, "The real power my ass.... fuck you Tromador."

"Sinistra?" Eve called. "Get that little Nosferatu who has been skulking about the palace would you? I want to get in touch with some friends."

It was at the start of the following evening that the screams woke Eveshka. They were coming from the main hall of the club where her cleanup crew had begun work straightening out the mess.

[i:05a7536c30]"What now?"[/i:05a7536c30] She screamed, scaring her bedfellows out from between silken sheets, or the undead ones at least. The mortals didn't seem to have survived to tell the tale, though they all had smiles on their dead faces.

A haunting melody flew through the air, as though some mystical set of pan pipes was being played. Strangely hypnotic, it cut through the noise of the squeals from above.

[i:05a7536c30]"Oh no, it couldn't be... surely not."[/i:05a7536c30] She said, head in her hands.

Right on cue, the door flew open. Hundreds of rats poured in and beyond the door, she could see hundreds more.

Abruptly the music stopped. The rats fled. Every hole, every hiding place, every nook and cranny in the wrecked nightclub holding it's fair share of rats. Those that couldn't find a hiding place simply milled about, pathetically trying to hide behind one another.

[i:05a7536c30]"TROMADOR!!!"[/i:05a7536c30] Yelled Eveshka at the top of her voice, but the madman, if he had been there at all, was long since gone.

[size=18:0e19e8b6cc]:: PUDDLES ::[/size:0e19e8b6cc]**

[size=14:0e19e8b6cc]**In Cyrilynn parlance, that means she melted under her computer desk in a pile of hysterically giggling goo[/size:0e19e8b6cc] :shock:[size=18:0e19e8b6cc][/size:0e19e8b6cc]

Eveshka closed Club Purgatory down until further notice. She had to do something to placate the mortal police. Plus it would make Tromador's idiotic pranks less visible to prying eyes. Christ it was a mess. Madame Guil had arrived and was waiting in Eve's palace. The guards around the place all had real time video cameras strapped to their heads through which they were looking. It had caught many a troubling nossie trying to obfuscate past them. Obfuscate only worked on the naked eye, not through camera lenses. Kind of an interesting paradox. Well, maybe not a paradox, but it was still kinda interesting. Either way, if the looney Malk in Ventrue's clothing arrived at her palace he would be seen. Now that Eve was on notice he was around, she periodically looked about with her heightened senses. She would have a lovely chat with the Toreador Justicar (which is to come in a bit as I am tired and what not and need to sleep.)

Little Johnny (or maybe it was Jean-Pierre or some such, being as it was a french town) cycled up to Eveshka's Palace. He wasn't sure quite why he had agreed to do this, as the local schoolchildren found the place a little intimidating, but he knew he had to deliver this package. The nice man had promised him a crisp 100 Euro note for his trouble, but also there had been something strangely compelling about him, his bright green eyes almost hypnotic.

[i:77009c11ff]"Get lost kid."[/i:77009c11ff] Said the guard on the main gate. His mistress had been in a particularly testy mood and her aura had rubbed off on the whole establishment.

Johnny pulled a crumpled brown package from his coat. [i:77009c11ff]"Package for.."[/i:77009c11ff] He screwed up his eyes and peered at a piece of card upon which the name had been spelled foh-net-ick-allee. [i:77009c11ff]"Boyarina Shuvolov."[/i:77009c11ff] He finished.

The guard raised his eyebrows and scratched his nose, before holding out his hand for the package. A brown envelope with Eveshka's full Russian name and title upon it in a flowing but dated style of script. Turning it over, he could see the flap had been sealed with wax, impressed with an Eagle's Claw. Just the kind of thing he knew was supposed to be given directly to the mistress. He nodded. [i:77009c11ff]"[b:77009c11ff]Now[/b:77009c11ff] get lost, kid."[/i:77009c11ff] Johnny pedalled away.

Eveshka turned the package over a couple of times. It didn't do to keep Madame Guil waiting, on the other hand, she knew, George Stanley, even insane, was clever. Best to examine the package before making a fool of herself.

Cracking the seal revealed a cassette tape and a letter. Written on parchment, she quickly recognized Tromador's elegant script.

[i:77009c11ff] My Dear Boyarina,

I note with regret that you have felt it necessary to call upon your friends in the camarilla. On the one hand, this would be a good thing. For you to move back into their fold, as it were, would perhaps ensure that your aspirations to godhood and the resultant fallout would be curbed. However, it is my belief that you are simply calling in favours to keep me off your back. Destroy me if you will, another will come in my place and another and another until you have, one way or another, been stopped. You represent a clear and present danger to kindred and my organization will not and cannot tolerate that.

You may be shocked to realise that you are not the only one with contacts in the Nosferatu. Remember we are the Inconnu and we are everywhere. Accordingly I know you have explained your plight to Madame Guil and doubtless by now she has arrived. Choose with care the words you give her, I know she has a soft place in her heart for you, so it would be unfortunate if the remaining justicars were to discover your plans for world domination. Knowing you as they do, I suspect they would take the matter quite seriously and your Madame Guil would be in quite the minority.

Should you wish to meet to further discuss this, I will be in the Louvre two nights from now. I believe the place is still classed as Elysium by the local Camarilla Prince, so no more fireballs, if you please.

George Stanley, Lord Strange of Lathom.[/i:77009c11ff]

For the moment, Eveshka's temper was in control, as she glanced at the cassette out of the corner of her eye. No putting it off, what had he got? She placed it into the the deck and pressed play.

[i:77009c11ff]"everyone will WORSHIP me."[/i:77009c11ff] Pause [i:77009c11ff]"I AM A LIVING GODDESSSSS."[/i:77009c11ff] Pause [i:77009c11ff]"They will come from all around the world to worship at my altar, to sacrifice themselves to my glory and my radiance."[/i:77009c11ff]

Eveshka heard her voice looping over and over. In a fit of pique, she ejected the tape and threw it to the floor where she ground it underfoot. Finally, smoothing her clothes and checking her hair, she went to speak to the Toreador Justicar.