Shattered Scepters

DISCLAIMER:
The Clan names, discipline names and structure, titles other things are copyrighted to White Wolf Game Studio neither I, nor this story, are affiliated with White Wolf or any of their associates or subsidiaries, nor I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. You can stop reading this now and have a nice day :~)

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CHAPTER 4: THE FIRST DATE

Stephan had managed a solid two hours of sleep before his mind began playing a twisted version of last nights events, replacing the shadowy figure with a horrendous version of his former regnant. The dream was so bad he shredded his sheets thinking that it was his former regnant trying to Embrace him. His hands trembled so violently he was unable to hold his coffee mug. Instead he showered and dressed giving him the time necessary calm down. Once his hands stilled he was finally able to drink his coffee, his mind calmly review last nights events, formulating his report for Isabella who had demanded a meeting tonight at 8 PM. He finished his coffee, placed his cup in the dishwasher and left for his meeting with his Regnant. Isabella was not as cruel as her father, at least where her ghouls were concerned, but then again none of her ghouls had even disobeyed her orders. He found himself slightly apprehensive about tonight’s meeting.


Isabella woke and showered as normal, thinking about the events in the tunnel the previous night. Stephan was following her orders by escorting the Malkavian, true; but she did not want him in such a dangerous situation. Did she have reason to be upset? Why was she upset? Because everyone had known that she had ordered Stephan to stay behind and when he appeared in the tunnels it reflected poorly upon her as his Regnant.

**What would father do?** She thought, but of course she all ready knew the answer, her father would beat Stephan, possibly even torture him. Stephan really was in a no win situation, his master ordered him to stay behind and escort the Malkavian and the Malkavian decided to journey into the tunnels.

She stepped from the shower and dried off, finding a lovely brown and olive green pant suit waiting for her on her with matching olive green bra and panty set. David, her fashion advisor had struck again. Her thoughts continued as she dressed, she really had no right to be mad at Stephan for following her orders; but what to do about the Malkavian? The Malk was new to the city and did not hold the instant bias against her or her father like those of the city, this could be advantageous.

She had just pulled the silk shell on when a timid knock was heard.

“Enter.” She ordered; a slender man with dishwater blonde hair slipped into her room, commenting on how lovely she looks before asking about how she wanted her hair done.

“Just braid it. Nothing fancy.” She answered, sitting at her vanity, allowing the former Toreador ghoul to brush and French braid her thick dark hair. She quickly slapped on a single color of eye shadow and mascara. When he finished with her hair, she allowed David to quickly dab on some base to even her skin tone. She never did get the hang of make-up.

She picked up her jacket and left the room, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the way out. The green really did look good on her; she slipped into the blazer, closing her bedroom door behind her. Her head swimming with thoughts of the Malkavian and her potential use, but she did not know enough about her to be able to fit her into a specific place of her plan.

She walked into her office to find Stephan standing by her desk, waiting patiently for her arrival. If he were apprehensive about their meeting it was not evident in either his body language or eyes.

“Good evening Isabella.” Even his voice was calm.

“I have been thinking, Stephan, about your actions last night.” She began, sitting in a large, leather chair that had once belonged to her father. Stephan’s stomach tightened, many beatings had begun with a similar sentence as Vincent sat in his favorite chair. She casually gestured to the matching leather couch to her left, again another gesture of her father, after all if you were sitting down you could not dodge as effectively as if you were standing.

“Yes ma’am.” As always his voice betrayed nothing about what he was feeling on the inside. He sat as directed and waited for her to complete her thought.

“I have no right to be upset with you. I gave orders that you were to escort the Malkavian and the Malk decided to follow us. Her decision was beyond your control.”

“Thank you for your understanding.” He said, relaxing on the inside.

“Now tell me about the Malkavian.”

He prefaces his report by indicating that his contact with her was limited and then proceeded to relay everything he knew and suspected. For being exposed to her for only a few hours his report was extremely through, something Isabella commented on.

“I need to know more, I need to know how old she is, her generation, how powerful. I want to know her skills, her strengths and her weaknesses. I need to be able to manipulate her.”

“I understand.” Stephan said, making a mental list of her demands.

“Also you mentioned that she saw the creature’s aura, find out what she saw and report back to me tomorrow night, same time.” She added, seeing John in the doorway and dismissing Stephan. She turned her attention to John to push their meeting back an hour.

“And Stephan…” she waited until he turned before completing her sentence “…keep her happy.” She added, reasoning that a happy Malkavian would be more manageable than an aggravated one.

“As you wish.” He confirmed with a slight nod of his head. John managed to keep the surprise from his face as she turned and followed Stephan down the hall, away from her office.

“My god, Stephan, what did you do that Isabella would order you to seduce a Malkavian?” John quietly asked once they were out of Isabella’s hearing range.

“To the best of my knowledge, this is just an assignment, not a punishment. Also, my orders are not actively seduce her; however, if the Malkavian wishes intercourse I cannot refuse.” Stephan explained, remembering Vincent Bruno’s definition of ‘keep them happy.’

As if on queue Stephan’s phone rang, indicating that his answering service was trying to reach him. He answered him phone and listened to the single message.

“It was the Malkavian, I need to go.” He explained, closing his phone and severing the connection.

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As per the Malkavian’s instructions, Stephan drove to the Orleans’s Casino in order to meet up with her. He momentarily thought about the self-park area of the parking lot, before deciding that the added security of the valet lot would be preferable. Stoic as ever, Stephan threaded his way through bright, noisy casino. The joyous Mardis Gras theme and offers of free brightly colored plastic bead necklaces failed to thaw the cool, expressionless look upon his face. Women soliciting cocktails and the cheers of someone hitting a jackpot slowly melted away, giving way to the distinctive sounds of a bowling alley as he rode the escalator up to the second floor.

With a soft sigh, Stephan rounded the corner and headed past the noisy arcade towards the sounds of the bowling alley. He barely made it five feet into the area before a familiar red head sporting pig tails came bounding towards him. Her pink half shirt boasted “Playmate of the Year” combined with the low rise, faded blue jeans showcased her wonderfully tone abdomen. Most of her make-up was much lighter than last night, giving her a more natural, alive, look. Her lips; however, were still the deep dark red of drying blood, she smiled coyly at him, her hands behind her back and rocking on the balls of her feet.

“I’m so glad you could make it. Did you get into trouble because of last night?” she asked.

“It was nothing I could not handle.”

“Goodie!” she squealed, clapping her hands and hopping up and down advertising her lack of a bra.

“Why did you want me to meet you here?” he asked, noticing more than a few stares.

“I thought you could use some relaxation.” She said.

“Relaxation?” he questioned, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I told everyone you’re an executive’s assistance. Come on!” she happily exclaimed, grabbing his wrist and quickly lead him towards a small group of bowlers, to whom she waved gleefully.

“Dolly, you’re up!” One of the girls called out.

“Dolly?” he questioned quietly, stopping just shy of the steps leading down to the others.

She turned, slipping her hand into his and holding it behind her back, pulling him closer “I am with them.” She answered in a husky voice.

“Makes me wonder how many people are in you.” He stated, remembering the multiple personalities occasionally know of each other. Part of him wondered if Multiple Personality Syndrome was her particular madness.

“Wondering if there’s enough room for you in this body?” she responded, her wondrous green eyes quickly glancing down at his belt before rolling back up to meet his dark eyes. Seductively she licked her lips.

“Dolly!” a woman cried out, sparing Stephan from the awkward situation he found himself in. “You’re holding up the game.”

Giggling she bounced down the stairs, picking up a bright pink bowling ball and rolled down the lane towards the ten unsuspecting pins. Stephan casually sat in one of the plastic chairs surrounding a stained table at the back of group. It wasn’t too long before he was joined by a man in his apparent fifties.

“Mike Turner.” He introduced, offering his hand.

“Stephan Villos.”

“So this is yours and Dolly’s first date?” he asked, twisting in the chair to watch the women giggle among themselves as Dolly pouted over the 7-10 split.

“This is not a date.” Stephan corrected.

“Really?” Mike turned to look at Stephan. “Does she know that?”

“I have been trying to tell her.”

Mike burst into laughter. “How old are you son?” Mike asked once his laughter died down.

“Seventy-two years old.” Stephan honestly answered.

“You may feel seventy-one, but I’ll wager that you’re no more than thirty-one.” Mike said. Stephan shrugged, after all that was his age when he was chosen by Vincent Bruno to become his ghoul. “Listen to an old man, when you find the right woman she’ll know it before you do, listen to her. Don’t let her get away from you, son, it’s a cold, uncaring world out there without her.” His eyes betrayed a story of loss that almost penetrated Stephan’s somber defenses.

“Dad, it’s your turn!” a blonde twenty-three year old announced.

“So it is.” He said, rising to his feet, and planting a sweet kiss on his daughter’s cheek before collecting his green and blue ball.

“Hi!” Lolli said in her normal bubbly tone, popping into view from no where. Mentally he scolded himself for not having kept better track of her…he’d been trained better then this.

“Hello…Dolly.” He greeted. She smiled a coy little grin and leaned close enough to whisper without being over heard.

“Are you packing?”

“I do not understand your question.”

“Are you armed?” she rephrased quietly into his ear, placing one hand on the chair and the other on the table for balance as she leaned closer to him.

“I am always armed.” He answered in an equally low voice, uncertain if he should have told her the truth or not.

“Are you going to join us?” she asked, jumping topics, he was getting better at tracking her topic changes. He was unsure if that should bother him or not.

“No.”

“Pretty please with whip cream and a cherry on top.”

“As…tempting…as your plea may seem I am still inclined to refuse.”

She giggled, “You got a funny way of saying no.” she said before rushing off to partake in the next round. Stephan sat patiently, watching the group finish their game, occasionally Mike would leave the group to provide Stephan with some company and to share to wisdom of his many years. Finally the game finished, and it would seem that Lolli is an accomplished bowler taking first place with a 108 score. The group then wanted to have dinner at one of the cafes the Casino had to offer.

“No thanks. Stephan and I are going to watch movies at his place, aren’t we?” she said, turning her attention to Stephan as she latched onto his arm.

“Did you remember the movie?” he asked without skipping a beat.

“Yep.” She exclaimed, pulling a DVD title ‘The Craft’ from her purse, they walked with the group back downstairs and parted ways with waves and promises to see each other later.

“Where are we going?” Stephan asked, guiding her towards the valet.

“Your place.” She answered as if shocked by his question. “Remember to watch movies, just like you said.”

“I said no such thing.” He countered, grabbing the large brass crocodile handle to opening the door for her.

“You implied it.” She disputed. “And implying it equates to saying it.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I bet you would. But the fact remains that by complying with the notion of going to your domicile to watch cinema, you in turn agreed with the proposal. By reneging on your half of the proposed agreement would further imply that I cannot trust you. If I cannot trust you then logically we can no long be friends. Would you agree with my observations?”

She had done it again, caught him completely off guard and rendered him speechless. She was defiantly the most dynamic Malkavian he had ever met.

“I cannot argue your opinion.” He relented, watching the young valet run around the car to open the door for Lolli.

Smiling contently she gracefully slipped into the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt.

“I have a question I must ask you about last night.” He began as he placed the car in gear and carefully merged with the flow of traffic heading towards the ever busy Tropicana Avenue.

“Must you? Then ask.” She responded, still on her high from winning her debate.

“Last night you said you saw the creature’s aura. What did you see?”

“You know of diablerie, right? Draining another vampire of blood and then devouring their soul.”

“Yes, it is akin to cannibalism. A crime punishable by final death.” He answered, hoping her question had some thing to do with what she saw last night.

She inhaled, searching the area before her with eyes, looking for the words to explain what she saw. “When viewing a diablerist’s aura, there are tell-tale black threads, betraying their crime. Threads, Stephan, itty-bitty, almost insignificant threads of black. The thing I saw last night had a black aura with threads of pain and anger. It had diablerized so much, that its aura was almost completely concealed by its transgression.” She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged herself.

“Is that why you said we could not let it bite Frank?”

“Yes, if it did, I know it would have tried to diablerize him.”

“Do you fear death, Stephan?” she asked her eyes a little too wide.

“I have not thought about it.” It was the truth.

“I do. Not the dying part, that happens to me every morning. I welcomes it cold embrace like a long lost lover. Delivering me into that sweet, gentle oblivion as a mother would comfort a frighten child. But being diablerized, having your soul devoured as if it were a tasty treat picked up from the dollar store. I fear that greatest of the unknown more than anything.” Her voice was low and somber as she spoke more to her self than to Stephan, who decided to keep quiet.

“Did you ask to become a ghoul?” She asked her voice light and bright, another topic change, he was defiantly getting better at tracking their dynamic conversations.

“No. My former Regnant recruited me.”

“This was forced upon you? How long have you been a ghoul?” she asked, stretching her legs out planting her feet against the floor board.

“I have been a ghoul for forty-one years.” He answered, seeing no harm in answering honestly.

“Are they going to Embrace you?” she asked, her question was innocent enough, but it hit a chord within Stephan that made his blood turn to ice.

“My current Regnant, has offered me that choice. I am weighing the various aspects of this decision.” Neither his voice nor his face betrayed the fear that was sitting in the pit of his stomach like a cold lump of ice.

“Is this something you want?” she asked.

“As I said, I am carefully considering my options.”

“Do you wish to be human?”

“I believe it is too late for me to choose to be human. I know too much about Kindred society and would be seen as a considerable risk. I am to remain a ghoul or become a fledgling.”

“There is always another choice.”

“And what might that be?”

“Suicide.” She said it so casually that Stephan momentarily was not sure he heard her correctly.

“Suicide is not an option.” He said flatly.

She laughed lightly. “It is always an option. Just because you do not like a choice does not mean that choice is not available. Death is one choice no one can take from you. It is a power over your destiny that can never be stolen. There are those who choose it at the wrong time, like those holidays statistics, but there are those who use that choice to their greatest advantage. Like the kamikaze pilots of the Second World War, or historical martyrs like Spartacus or Joan of Arc. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“You have some very interesting observations.” He noted.

“Yeah, I’m full of stuff like that.” She said with a grin. “So are we heading back to your place?”

“You have left me with few options.” He stated.

Happily content she leaned back into the seat, a large triumphant grin upon her face. The silence lasted until Stephan had to stop at red light.

“Do you see you outfit! Oh my Goth.” She said pointing to a slender wearing a long black dress with bell sleeves. Black lace trim along the sleeve and neck line, accentuated her white skin. Her hair was a solid black that did not occur naturally and fell almost her shoulders, glancing at the cars Stephan could see her thick black eye makeup and painted black lips. To him she looked like so many other young people rebelling against the norm.

“Goth?” he asked, not familiar with this term.

“I mean I suppose it’s better than preppy, but still….so few people can pull off the Goth look anymore.” She continued.

“Preppy?”

“Yeah, you know…fashion looks.”

He gave her a look indicating that he was not following her. “Oh Stephan.” She said using a tone usually reserved for consoling someone whose dog was hit by the UPS delivery truck. “It’ll be OK; I’ll teach you the difference.” She said, gently patting his shoulder.

She then jumped topics again and began talking about music, specifically jazz. This was a topic that Stephan was familiar with and was amazed at her knowledge of the subject.

“If you do not mind my asking; how old are you?” he hesitantly asked.

“38.” She happily answered.

“And your sire has released you? You are very young, by kindred standards.”

She giggled as she told him the United States was young by Kindred standards. “Technically I haven’t been released, often times my sire will send his childer to a new city to study them and see how they behave and adapt to their new surroundings. My sire is very…” she was searching for the word, she knew the word, but her tongue could not find it “…intellectual like that.” She said, finally locating the four syllable word.

“Interesting.” He said, pulling into his parking space and cutting off the engine.

“You use that word a lot.”

“Do I; I had not noticed.” He commented, climbing out of the car and making his way over to open her door. He offered her his hand to help her out of the small sedan.

“I like it when you do that. Makes me feel like a lady.” She said as a small shy grin played across her lips.

“In my day it was customary for a gentleman to treat a lady with respect, a habit my former Regnant encouraged.” He explained.

“You don’t talk about you former Regnant often.” She said, subtly asking why without being pushy.

“No, I do not.” Stephan answered, unlocking the door and ushering her into his apartment.

Lolli looked around at the stark apartment, immaculately clean and sparsely decorated. Everything was decorated in creams, beige and whites, any color was muted it looked barren and soulless. To her left she could see the living room the cream and beige couch was placed against the far wall, a watercolor print of a desertscape hung over the couch, perfectly centered. A matching arm chair sat against the adjacent wall and a small beige end table in the far corner holding a beige and gold lamp. Behind the table and chair was a thick pair of cream and beige curtains that ran the length of the wall to the solid patio door. A beige and glass coffee sat in front of the couch, supporting a picture book of Zion and a second one of Italy. To her right was more cream and white of the kitchen, only this time there were accents of black; as in the black appliances and dish towels. Connected to the kitchen was a dining room which held a small pine table with four matching chairs with, of course, beige cushions. A pair of closet doors was the back wall of the dining room and between the living room and dining room a long darkened hallway presumably leading to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

“Are you sure you live here?” she asked.

“Yes, this is my home.”

“This isn’t some Ventrue safe house is it?”

“No, this is my home. I live here.” He explained placing his keys on the kitchen counter and closing the door.

“Who’s your decorator?”

“I am.” He answered, taking the DVD from her and opening a large, cream colored entertainment center she had somehow missed when entering the apartment.

Lolli was glad she kept her smart-ass comments regarding the soul-less feeling of his apartment to herself. Lolli sat on the couch, setting her purse on the coffee table in the process as Stephan removed a remote from on top of the TV and joined her on the sofa, leaving a comfortable space between them. Once the movie started, Lolli was fairly quiet, much to Stephan’s surprise. Occasionally she would point out the various fashions and to prove he was paying attention later in the film he would point out similar styles of dress with the name she had given them. Periodically throughout the movie he would look over her, she was so intent on the movie, so engulfed in the story that it was cute, for lack of better words. There were even points when she was moving her lips in time with the dialogue. He found her to be an attractive woman, long hair the color of black cherries and intensely bright green eyes. She was so bright and cheery, a definite change from others he’s had to associate with.

Feeling that she was being watched she looked at Stephan. “What?” she asked with a smile, almost giggling.

“You are so enraptured with this movie.”

She shrugged “Yeah, I know, I get like that with some movies. I love movies. They’re a great escape from reality.”

“I do not often have the luxury of going to the cinema.”

“Then bring the movies home to you.” She answered, so simply.

He raised an eyebrow in an amused manner.

“I’m serious. You can get cable or go to Blockbusters or what’s the name of that other place…Hollywood Video and rent them for a few days.” The answer was so obviously simple to her.

“I often do not have much in the way of leisure time.”

“But you do have some time. It takes less than 2 hours to watch a movie. Surly you can spare about two hours a day if not a week.”

“I will think on it.” He said.

“I should be getting home, the sun will be up in a few hours and I have some errands to do.” She said, gathering her purse and standing up. Stephan followed her example, returning her movie and collecting his keys.

“What kind of errands?” he asked.

“Laundry, vacuuming, cleaning the kitchen, making a deposit at the bank, dropping off rent, you know errands.”

“I believe you are the first Kindred I have met with chores.” Surprised at how normal her list sounded.

“Life goes on, and I don’t have anyone to do those things for me.” She answered, stepping out into the nigh air.

Stephan nodded, generally all of the mundane things were taken care of by ghouls or servants, it never really occurred to him that a Kindred without a ghoul would still need to do laundry and pay rent.

“Would you drop me off at Wells Fargo, I can use the ATM to make my deposit and then catch the bus home.”

“You ride the bus?” He asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s hard to go car shopping when one I don’t have the money for a car, its maintenance, gas and insurance and two dealerships, are not generally open when I’m mobile. We won’t even go into my trying to get a driver’s license. You deal with a lot of pampered Kindred don’t you?”

“I would not call them pampered.”

“Then why are you so surprised that I deal with the little everyday stuff?”

“It is not a common complaint I hear among the Kindred I deal with. These are the concerns of their ghouls.”

“I don’t have a ghoul, I’m on my own.”

“Have you thought about obtaining a ghoul?”

She laughed and he looked at her. “You make it sound like I can go down to the grocery store and pick one up. If the first rule of the Masquerade is silence and ghouls were once human how can I pick one up at a bar? Besides, I see ghouls as slaves. I hear how they are treated; I’ve seen how they are treated and abused. Bought, sold, traded and misused at their masters whim. It hurt my heart to see it. I’ll not participate in slavery.”

“You have some interesting views of things.”

“Can you tell me I’m wrong? I have heard of the rumors of how the Bruno’s treat their ghouls. Their reputation is worse than my entire clan’s reputation with ghouls.”

She struck a nerve in Stephan and his spine stiffened slightly. “Are you saying you see me as a slave?”

“By your own admission you were recruited, it was not you who sought them out; and can you honestly deny the Bruno’s reputations?”

Stephan remained silent; Vincent Bruno’s first lesson was not to discuss family business outside the family. He did not like the direction this conversation was going and was searching for method to redirect it. Lolli presented herself as an oblivious bubblehead, but that was just a guise that many people never saw through. She noticed the slight change in Stephan’s posture and how the silence between them seemed tense and uncomfortable; she studied him quietly filing away her observations for future use. She found him attractive and wanted him for her own, but she knew it would have to be carefully planned, like a delicate surgery.

“Did I say something wrong?” she innocently asked.

“No, but perhaps we should change the topic.” He suggested.

“Do you want to go out next Friday?” she asked.

“I would need to check my schedule, but I think I can manage it.” He answered; somewhat grateful she was not pressing the topic of the Bruno’s.

“Here’s my phone number. Call me and let me know if we’re good for Friday.” She said, as he pulled up to the Wells Fargo bank.

“Are you sure you will be all right?”

“Yeah, this is a good neighborhood, and the bus stop is right there.” She pointed to the south side of the street were three other people were waiting for the Citizen’s Area Transit or CAT for short.

“I will call you tomorrow night.”

She nodded and headed towards the ATM, Stephan stayed long enough to see that she safely made her deposit and was heading to the other side of the street before driving off. He would need to report to Isabella, and see if she would grant him some time off.