[i:1acc55e828][b:1acc55e828]ooc:[/b:1acc55e828] A sublime thread, you both got me hooked to it :D [/i:1acc55e828]

((Eeeeep!!!! :shock: ))

Eveshka sat in the drawing room of her palace with Madame Guil, the Toreador Justicar. The place was regularly swept for surveillance gear both manmade, and supernatural. It was clean. Nobody would overhear them. Madame Guil had already seen from Eve's aura that she was troubled greatly, more greatly than her visit would warrant.

"What is it?" asked the Justicar.

Eveshka considered her options for a moment. Tromador had some dirt on her certainly. But it wasn't anything that the Camarilla didn't already suspect. For certain, it wasn't anything the Inconnu, if they were as omniscient as was whispered, didn't already know. Tromador, in his "forthrightness" of character, had exposed his soft underbelly as well. He had admitted to causing some of the mayhem that had plagued her. She had evidence that he was behind all of the other stuff as well. Why not come clean and get the Camarilla to rid her of this troublesome cleric? They certainly had contacts in the Inconnu, probably high ranking contacts that she did not have access to. Join them for now. Yes that was it. Only for now.

So, Eveshka came clean, or a version of clean. Well, ok, truth be told she didn't come clean at all but presented a facade of cleanliness that still stank of her pheremone driven megalomania. As it happened, Madame Guil already knew about the fun and frivolity that Tromador the Venkavian was visiting upon Eve... not really the cool and detached behavior of a member of the Inconnu.

"Did you really say this?" asked Madame Guil.

"Yes, that was me, but it wasn't me at the same time. It was like I couldn't control myself, almost like I was being dominated," said Eve in a disgusted tone, as if the idea that a Malkavian (of sorts) had entered into her brain and scrambled them like eggs.

Madame Guil nodded. "We know you had nothing to do with killing those people on the steps of the Cathedral. We also know you had nothing to do with that huge riot at Purgatory. We further know that that massacre on the TGV was prompted by Tromador. We've got him on video sitting across from you the whole time."

Eveshka looked shocked. "I KNEW I saw him there but only for fleeting moments. I don't understand what he is doing? He said he is judging me and that I did not pass muster."

"He can say what he likes. Pandu has sway in their order. That is all I will say about that now," said the Justicar. "Will you return to the fold?"

Eveshka sat silent for a moment. "As a Toreador? How do you mean?"

"You may bring your Daughters of Ishtar to the Family," said Madame Guil graciously.

Eveshka smiled and nodded in understanding. "Then we will come home," she said simply.

"Pandu will be very pleased," said Madame Guil with a great smile. "You've made the right decision, Lady Eveshka."

Madame Guil took the tape and a copy of the letter back to the Toreador High Council. Eve packed and made ready to return to the Court in Paris.

*****************************************************

[i:b096ddaf11] Two nights later at the Louvre [/i:b096ddaf11]

Eve sat on a bench underneath the glass pyramid. Young Toreador flocked about like brainless seagulls looking at the pretty rocks and the pretty colors. Vampires from other clans poked about as well. Eve sat, reading "A room with a View" and sipped on a 75 year MacCallan. It had been aged in Kentucky Oak. Altogether an odd thing she remarked to herself. She supposed it was a successful marriage of the Olde World and the New. A rare thing she thought. And so she sat reading about Mr.Beebe, Freddy, and George Emerson having a bathe as she waited for Tromador.

From the corner of her eye, Eve could see signs of movement. In spite of herself she smiled, memories of a time long since past playing on her mind. Tromador had entered the building. This night he had forgone the black robe and from somewhere had found an outfit such as he might have sported when he was Seneschal of Cascadia, or even his time as Justicar of Ventrue. He had been a formidable kindred then, equally adept in an arena of high politics or high romance. Years ago, even for one so old as she it seemed an age away. They had been allies, they had been lovers. He walked towards her, his presence and where necessary menacing glances kept flighty toreador in their place and she felt a familiar warmth in her loins. [i:7ddae3edef]Perhaps just once, for old times sake...[/i:7ddae3edef] She thought.

The emotion was quickly replaced by annoyance. He was manipulating her again. Damn that man, his level of impertinence had not diminished in the slightest. Still, if one was to be manipulated, there was no shame in being manipulated by one of his abilities. She smiled again, it was pleasant to see that midnight blue jacket with it's silver braid trim once more. Still, she would be on her guard.

[i:7ddae3edef]"Evey!"[/i:7ddae3edef] Said George with a broad smile. [i:7ddae3edef]"I'm so glad you came."[/i:7ddae3edef] Taking her hands, he kissed both cheeks in greeting. [i:7ddae3edef]"Shall we find a quiet corner where we can talk about old times away from..."[/i:7ddae3edef] His voice raised a few decibels [i:7ddae3edef]"[b:7ddae3edef]YOUNG EARS![/b:7ddae3edef]"[/i:7ddae3edef] Several young and overly curious Torries made a big point of studying whichever painting happened to be nearest.

[i:7ddae3edef]"Enchanté, d'accord."[/i:7ddae3edef] Replied Eveshka, playing along for now. The pair left for a more private part of the gallery.

[i:7ddae3edef]"So what do you want, Tromador?"[/i:7ddae3edef] Demanded Eveshka, not playing quite so nice now that they were secluded.

[i:7ddae3edef]"Well, nothing now, I guess. It's goodbye again. I understand the club is closed, you and your childe have been accepted back into Clan Toreador and so I have no "Daughters of Ishtar" to monitor. I'll be receiving a new assignment soon, no doubt. I am sorry about all the unpleasantness, but it really did have to be done. Someone will keep an eye on you to make sure you're ok, of course, but they only really wheel me out when there's a big problem requiring direct action."[/i:7ddae3edef]

Tromador smiled his winning smile and from somewhere produced a perfect red rose, which he held out to Eveshka. [i:7ddae3edef]"Forgive me?"[/i:7ddae3edef]

"Forgive you?" she asked with a laugh, shaking her luxurious head of white hair. "You nearly ruined me with your antics. That cannot have been in the mandate from the allmighty inconnu."

George said nothing.

Eve walked away from him a bit and then turned.

"I have returned to the Camarilla, but you have been misinformed as to the nature of the relationship. I am still the progenitrix of the Daughters of Ishtar."

George smiled slightly.

"But I suppose I can forgive you. That is, afterall, what friends are supposed to do. Is it not?"

[b:35646cd7b2] Excerpt from [i:35646cd7b2] Le Monde [/i:35646cd7b2] headline date August 18, 2004 [/b:35646cd7b2]

[i:35646cd7b2]An explosion rocked the quiet night of the city of Tours in Indre-Loire as the infamous hedonists Club Purgatory was destroyed by parties unknown. Hundreds were killed as the blast ripped apart the converted 14th century basillica and reduced it to rubble. No parties have claimed responsibility. [/i:35646cd7b2]

George had returned to London, his home for so many years. The grotty council flat in Kilburn was hardly the style he had been accustomed to over the centuries, but it served his purposes. Rattling windows and mould creeping up damp walls only aided the abstinence he continued to practise in order to keep his demons under some kind of control.

[i:11fb41f903]...and so, Francis, in conclusion I can hope that she will toe the camarilla line, saving us all a lot of trouble in the future, yet still, there was something about her which seemed to suggest that we have yet to see the last of her misbehaviour.[/i:11fb41f903]

George signed the letter in his flowing script and sealed it.

He frowned, that noise from upstairs. Jack was beating up on his wife again. Truly that was no aid to George's meditations. Well, he would need a new flat anyway and as M said, one should always leave one's mark.

The tape over Jack's mouth served to keep him from screaming, which was one thing Jack particularly wanted to do just at the moment. It occured to George that perhaps the Tzimisce had something to teach, it would be so much easier just to pinch Jack's lips together and seal them forever, but today at least it was beyond George's abilities.

It seemed to A, who stood dispassionately making notes, that Jack had only really begun to put up any kind of struggle at the point where the first spike had pinned his wrist to the floor. One would have thought that when the door blasts off it's hinges and a figure like the angel of death carries you off to the flat below, you might make some effort to run. Possibly the strangeness of the situation induced a kind of catatonia, only freed up by the first stabbing of pain. Nonetheless, now crucified face down, pinned to the floor by wrists and ankles, clearly the subject was reacting in a more expected manner.

M flapped his arms, like wings. Then apparently reconsidering, flapped just one arm. That works, thought George. Give the man time to consider the discourtesey of being a noisy neighbour. A sharp carving knife easily flayed the flesh from one side of his torso, allowing George to snap away the ribs. Ribs which he then place under Jack's writhing head like a sort of pillow.

Half a blood eagle might even be survivable, considered George, as he hefted a lung out of the bloody mess body and over Jack's shoulder. It did look a bit like a wing, he supposed.

In the interests of science, George called an ambulance. He would check up on Jack's progress later. for now though, he would be finding somewhere less messy to live.

I always did like a Kindred who could do things with style. :) I suspect George has been watching my.....efforts....from over my shoulder, and has learned a thing or two. Well done, Lord Stanley! :shock:

Eveshka had returned from Paris as a member of the Toreador High Council being the progenitrix of the Daughters of Ishtar bloodline. She stood outside the ruins of the Basilica de St. Martin which had until so recently contained Club Purgatory. There were no leads through the police officials as to who destroyed the place. She had closed all of her clubs, accept the one in Cascadia in the United States, until she could figure out what was going on exactly.

She had spoken to members of the Nosferatu Clan and had gotten some interesting insights. It seemed that it may have been a Sabbat attack but there also seemed to be a shadowy link to the Camarilla. Perhaps George had a point, this Jyhad was all very tiresome.

[i:ff8d307bb6] At the newly gathered Council of Primogen meeting in the Hotel de Ville of Tours [/i:ff8d307bb6]

Only 6 clans were represented in Tours thus far, each with at least a Primogen. Some actually had a Primogen and a Whip. Thus far there were several Brujah, a few Ventrue, a smattering of Nosferatu, an unusually large contingent of Gangrel, many Daughter's of Ishtar, and of course the mainstream Toreador. The largest group was still the Toreador. Although the Gangrel did not particularly like the Toreador, they got on rather well with the Daughters. Oddly enough, all of the clans got on rather well with the Daughters, and it wasn't just because the reigning prince happened to be their progenitrix. Their was something elusively attractive about them. Not in the physical sense mind you, most powerful vampires could not give two shits whether the vampire with whom they were associating was pretty. There was something un-naturally savy about them. Like they were a mixture of all the clans put together.

They had actually discovered that the Sabbat were active in Touraine. From the best reports gathered by the Nosferatu and Eveshka's own spy network (she'd never tell where or how she got the information, just that she got it) they where holed up somewhere around Chinon. Eve thought they were using the old castle of Chinon as a base. It was actually rather poetic seeing as that was where the young Dauphin Charles met Joan of Arc and set off on a mission of reconquest in the 100 Years War. Perhaps they were going to do the same thing.

Eveshka spoke at the Council for all of ten minutes and then left her Seneschal, a Russian beauty named Katerina, to observe. It was Eve's wishes that they be lenient on the Sabbat and actually speak to them to see if there was something that could be done to come to a common understanding. The Council thought this was folly and sought to do otherwise. They wished to try and root them out in what would have become a long drawn out contest, much like the larger Jyhad. Eve invited the heads of the rival clans to a meeting in Chateau Usse, which was sort of a midpoint between Tours and Chinon. It was to be declared Elysium. The meeting would take place in two nights time.

By the next night, all of the Sabbat bosses had agreed to come have a little chat provided they were guaranteed safe passage to the place. Eve swore an oath that they would reach the meeting inhindered. They agreed to come.

The meeting at Usse went off without a hitch. The Toreador Anti-Tribu were present, not that Lady Shuvolov particularly valued their viewpoint, but more importantly the Lasombra and the Ventrue Anti-Tribu were in attendence. The Comtesse valued THEIR opinions and views rather highly.

"You all know why we are meeting," said a very radiant Comtesse de Touraine. She wore something akin to a business suit for the occasion. Ordinarily this attire would have made a woman look frumpy, but on Eveshka it worked marvelously The assembled vampires made an assortment of grumblings of assent.

"You also know that I have not sought out difficulties with your clans."

"There is a war on last I heard," said a particularly dark and unpleasant looking Lasombra. Eve looked over at him and smiled slightly. She chose her meeting place very well. The hall was gilded to the teeth with arabesques, curliques, leafing, scroll work, all the best that Renaissance French architecture had to offer. There was hardly a space on the walls for Neo-Classical paintings seeing as they were covered in nearly floor to ceiling mirrors. The room looked rather odd in the reflection with so many seats plainly occupied by invisible people. The "Keepers" didn't care for it, but it must be admitted that the Toreador and Ventrue anti-tribs found it amusing.

"Not in Touraine there isn't," said Eveshka. "I could care less what happens in the world as long as my realm is left alone and my subjects are free to do and think as they please."

A regal looking Ventrue with a scar across his cheek coughed slightly and said, "Are we to presume that these pursuits of which you speak are encouraged by you, My Lady?"

Eve smiled at the insinuation. "You may presume that," she answered truthfully. "I am the Law. I am the Way, the Truth, and the Light in Touraine."

This blasphemous statement drew a quiet whistle from one of the Lasombra. The rest were quietly trying to read her aura or perceive something from her. They could see nothing. It was as if they were looking at an animated but emotionless statue.

"What is it you offer us?" asked the regal Ventrue.

"A way to profit."

The Sabbat set up a small haven in Tours under the umbrella of the Comtesse de Touraine. None harmed them, and they harmed none. The Sabbat, though a dangerous foe, knew they could not topple Comtesse Eveshka through force of arms. They knew it would take years of digging and cajoling. In short, it would take finesse. Something that didn't come easily to the greater portion of the Sabbat. Yet, its more elite ranks seemed to warm to the idea. And besides, they thought, the scraps from her table were richer pickings than what they were generally able to secure for themselves.

Eveshka received several letters from the Toreador High Council about just what the fuck she thought she was doing down there in her little dominion. Her reply was short, but rather Machiavellian. It qouted Sun Tzu: "Keep your friends close, your enemies closer." That seemed to appease the powers that be.

Several months later the Camarilla again got wind that something was up. The "royal" cyphers of Touraine were found in the neighboring Toreador Duchies of Blois, Maine, and Orleanais. All three of which seemed to having all manners of political troubles. Madame Guil and a few of her Archons had gone down to Orleans on several occasions to lop off the heads of some Toreador twaddles. Yet, still Eveshka was untouched. Eve went before the Council in Paris and vowed to put down the unruliness once and for all and claim dominion over the lands in the name of the Camarilla, under the watchful tutelage of the Daughters of Ishtar of course.

Several weeks later, peace broke out in the disturbed provinces and harmony seemed to reign. But again, there were rumours of something black and sinister growing on the winds coming from the middle of France. Again, nothing could be pinned down. Not even the Nosferatu could get close enough to scry upon the lands. Those that did saw nothing unusual. They saw a prosperous vampire community living in relative harmony with the mortals. The Masquerade was being upheld. the Traditions were being abided by. The Laws of Caine were being adhered to.

Renee Delacroix, Prince of Paris and the Ile de France sent an envoy to meet with Comtesse Eveshka. Word returned that she was "vacationing" in the French Riviera. Renee went to investigate for herself. They met up in Nice one lovely evening.

Eveshka held court at Le Grand Hotel du Cap-Ferrrat, overlooking the Mediterrenean. Renee wandered into the grand salon unannounced to find a veritable orgy going on. There were many mortals present, but they all seemed to have a dazed look on their faces. It didn't take long for Renee to find La Comtesse. She sat, or rather reclined, on a huge throne. Her legs were spread and she was having sex with a tanned and muscular man while two gorgeous women licked both their genitals. Eveshka was leaning over and pleasuring another tanned, muscular man, who would easily have been any woman's fantasy come true. She gently sucked on the length of his sex and it was quite evident to Renee that she was feeding from him while sucking his manhood. He didn't seem to mind. Nobody seemed to mind. All around the room couples and groups were having hetero and homosexual intercourse. The mortal staff of the hotel and the other lodgers didn't seem to pay them any attention. It was as if they were not there.

Renee watched Eve go down on the handsome man and could see that he was close to coming, but also close to passing out. She was sucking him dry in more ways than one. His eyes rolled back into his head and she saw his aura flicker erratically. she could smell the heady musk of his semen and the sweet smell of his blood mixed together. Eveshka swallowed it all. The man was having the orgasm of his life. And it was the last one he'd ever have. She clasped her arms around his buttocks to keep him from falling away and she continued sucking his hard cock until his heart ceased to beat. She let him fall to the ground with a thud and she wiped the dribbled blood and semen from her mouth and licked it from her hand.

"Eveshka? What are you doing?" asked Renee icily. "What of the Masquerade?"

Eve smiled at her with an almost drugged up hazy look in her eyes. The Man in her vagina slowed as he looked at Renee, he didn't know what to do. Eve pulled him in again and he smiled and resumed pumping her.

"What does it look like I am doing?" asked Eve innocently.

Renee turned on her heels and stalked off. She looked back for a moment and said, "I'll be back later, be ready." Eve did not acknowledge her but merely indulged her mortal.

Several hours later, Renee came back to the hotel and pushed the buzzer for Eve's suite. The burly gangrel guard recognized Renee for who she was and was not overtly rude, but he did not allow her to barge in either. The door opened seemingly of its own accord. The room was dark but for a few candles and a beautifully rounded form lying on her side in bed facing away from Renee. She walked into the room and saw that Eve was in the shower. As vile as she had become, Renee still lost her figurative breath at the sight of Eveshka in her glory. Renee sat down on the bed next to the sleeping woman. The weight of her sitting on the mattress unbalanced the woman and she rolled onto her back. Her eyes were wide open and life-less. Renee gasped.

"Looks like I broke her," said Eve in a dispassionate voice. Renee was startled as Eve had only a second before been in the shower. And here she was standing nude next to her, as if she had apparated.

"What happened to you Eveshka?" asked Renee. "You used to be our shining star. Now you are just rotten."

"Rotten is as rotten does," replied Eve as she turned away and put on a silk kimono. Renee noticed her katana and wakazashi on a stand on top of the dresser. Renee had a poignard on her, but that was it; nothing that would be able to stand up to an armed and angry Eveshka. She hoped that Eve would not lose her temper.

"The Sabbat are active in your provinces," said Renee. "It is being whispered that you are permitting their presence, that you are actually sanctioning it."

"The odd things one hears at Court eh?" mused Eveshka.

"Now with your actions here in Nice I see that it is most likely true. You are Sabbat now are you not?"

Eve's eyes flashed angrily. "Do you accuse me Renee?" She stood up suddenly and Renee flinched.

"No... we do," said Madame Guil who was striding through the door with two archons in tow.

"I see," said Eveshka. "Well then, this brings us to an impasse does it not."

"Do not be rash Eveshka," commanded Madame Guil. Eveshka was using her aura perception and could see that every woman in the room, except for the dead mortal, was exhibiting great signs of fear. She smiled and blinked lazily at the Toreador Justicar.

"Am I to go before the Council again?" asked Eveshka.

"Yes." said Madame Guil.

"Very well. But as you are viewing this through the shit smeared eyes of Renee I ask that she stand up and bear witness that it is she who is the accuser."

MAdame Guil looked at Renee. "That seems fair to me Lady Eveshka," said the Justicar.

"You have my word that I will not resist being brought to Paris," said Eveshka.

***************

[i:10de119ad7] Two nights later [/i:10de119ad7]

They had arrived in Paris and were meeting in the grand salle of the Louvre. The deliberations had been going on for several hours as each Renee listed all of what Eveshka had been up to. Some of it was fabricated, most of it was true. At the end of her accusations Eveshka was asked to make her defense.

"I protest my innocence to charges of violating the Masquerade and the Traditions. I have a sweet tooth and erotic tastes. My vices are no more or less glaring than any who sit here. Is it my success that offends my Sister so? If so, I maintain that it is her problem and her issue to deal with," said Eveshka.

"My problem?" asked Renee. "You insolent whore." She began to speak again but was cut off by Eveshka.

"I challenge her to a duel. She has affronted my honor, my right to rule, and has slandered my name. I request that this matter be settled via jus gladii."

The High Council rustled about at this. A trial by combat had not been allowed in hundreds of years. Indeed the very premise behind it was ludicrous in this day and age.

"So be it," said Pandu. He stood up and left the chamber, as did the other council members. Madame Guil came forwards and said, "You two will meet on the morrow at Notre Dame Cathedral, where we shall settle this once and for all."

[i:c4b240616b]"Well, thanks a fucking lot Francis."[/i:c4b240616b] Muttered George under his breath as another splinter of wood flew in his direction. Rhiannon may have been a dizzy tart, but it was just as well she'd taught him celerity. Fucking hunters. [b:c4b240616b]Fucking Eve![/b:c4b240616b]

Even in the heat of battle the word play of that thought made George smile. Undoubtedly that was what she was doing, whilst he dealt with the latest pair of Leopolds that had come seeking their fortune at the cost of her undead flesh. These two were particularly well armed. Stake guns, flamethrowers and some kind of wierd headgear, a cross between night vision goggles and a welders helmet which prevented any kind of eye contact.

[i:c4b240616b]"Burn bloodsucker!"[/i:c4b240616b] Screamed one of the hunters, sending a plume of petroleum fire in his direction. George dodged again, [i:c4b240616b]"You singed my jacket."[/i:c4b240616b]

George pumped blood into his muscles and jumped at the hunters, somersaulting over their heads whilst drawing his dread flamberge. The guy with the stake gun gawped as he saw his companion's head fly off into the undergrowth, a fatal pause during which Georges blood strength, celerity fist powered into his visor, smashing the reinforced glass.

[i:c4b240616b]"Yeeow, my fucking hand."[/i:c4b240616b] Exclaimed George as he looked deeply into the remaining hunters eyes. The hunter stood limply, awaiting his masters command. [i:c4b240616b]"Right."[/i:c4b240616b] Said George. [i:c4b240616b]"Be taking off that rediculous neck guard."[/i:c4b240616b]

---

Eve's driver swerved and skidded to a halt almost crashing as a pair of corpses, one disassembled, one drained, landed on the bonnet of the car. A slightly burnt blue jacket of a vaguely naval style followed soon after.

[i:c4b240616b]"I'll fucking eat his venkavian heart for a snack."[/i:c4b240616b] Thought Eve, as she went to examine the offerings, finding a note in the jacket pocket.

[i:c4b240616b][b:c4b240616b]My Dearest Comtesse

Not the first sons of Leopold to come searching for you, but the first to actually get to you. This time you can clean up the mess. Meantime, after you've finished your little tete a tete with Renee, I believe there's a hermit monk living in an inaccessible cave somewhere in the himalaya who is feeling left out and wonders why he's the only man on the planet you haven't fucked and slaughtered. I reassured him you'd be along sooner or later.

Oh and by the way, you owe me a new jacket.

I'd sign off with fuck you, but you'd take it as a compliment, or heaven forfend, an invitation.

Be seeing you.

George.[/b:c4b240616b][/i:c4b240616b]

From the top of a nearby building, M looked down. [i:c4b240616b]"It was rather exciting to be in a good old fashioned fight again though, wasn't it?"[/i:c4b240616b]

George rolled his eyes. [i:c4b240616b]"Come along, we have to.."[/i:c4b240616b] He coughed for effect, [i:c4b240616b]"...observe this duel."[/i:c4b240616b]