Aspasia - ICC 2007 - Vignette #5 - The Golden Apple
I will never, never forgive Bastian for allowing this.
Aspasia fumed as she had help dressing for the Ballio. In an effort to honor the wishes of the hosts - asking kindred to embody characters from Shakespeare’s plays, she thought the request would be easy. She would come as Hyppolyta, Queen of the Amazons, from his Midsummer’s Night Dream. That was a mistake.
Her plan to dress in ‘traditional’ Amazon costume, was de-cried as being scandalous. As if there was anything displeasing about bare-breasts. Yes, even though it would make the use of the bow less taxing, Aspasia was untouched by the knife on her torso. So, she had to make due.
In this case, making due was a period costume, from the time that the play was originally performed. It was a monstrosity of gold and skirts. Skirts! It was laced in along the chest and waist, then expanded in volume that swirled about her feet and legs, threatening to trip her up at any given opportunity. And the sleeves, you could hide a small island, or a shape-shifted Gangrel in them and no-one would be the wiser. All in all it was an infuriating mess. And she was condemned to it for the length of the night.
Unless, she could find a valid excuse.
So, she came to the party location, only to be lead to a separate entrance. It appeared the Admired and such would be parading in.
Why do the Lance have to do this? And why do I stand for it?
The proclamations were at least blessedly short and Aspasia soon found herself drifting through a ballroom full of predators, with an entourage in tow of several reliable members of the clan. In her hand one of the tokens given to the special guests, a short stemmed rose, gilded with gold and brightly ribboned. She just looked at it with bemusement when it was offered to her.
Then, her irritation found a viable outlet in regarding the main table and who was seated next to Bastian’s sorcerous daughter.
Liberty Stone, the great joke the Carthians play on society. Now given substance by one who is supposed to be her ally.
What can he possibly bring to the table, unless it’s his suffering in Mackenzie’s bed.
She can feel her beast drawing strength from the passion of her disdain, and her indignation.
What possible explanation can be provided by Bastian to excuse this? Does he not care what such public support of Liberty says about him and his childer? Does he really need to indulge his daughter in this fashion?
She turns her back on the crowd at the elevated table, and her eyes spot a glimpse of gold. It draws her across the room.
It’s not merely a chair, but a throne. Nothing less than that. Inquiries reveal that Caderyn uses it. The “Lion throne”. She smiles. Here is another move in the greater Danse.
She can’t wait to see him take his seat. It’s will be most exciting thing the Daeva has done in decades. And it won’t require much in the way of exertion. But, it is a proclamation. She wonders if he intends it for his covenant or his clan - more than likely both. Which will meet with some opposition. But, no doubt his people have already advised him.
It was after a short conversation in a corner, as she walked away - one youthful kindred intercepted the Amazon in her stomping about (the fabric of the skirt was much easier to manage when you picked half of it up and just walked like normal, even if it wasn’t pretty).
He reached out a hand, in it there was a single apple. He murmured something she did not quiet catch, but it was something to the intent of “for the fairest”.
He has confused his stories. I do not think Shakespeare wrote of Troy, and if I am to be one of the goddesses, then where are Aphrodite and Athena?
Aspasia offers a slightly confused word of thanks to the boy, and takes the apple.
Much later she was told how the young kindred was taken away shortly afterward, and quizzed about his gift, - was it cursed? Did he mean ill to Aspasia? What was his intent?
Not knowing what to do with it, she carries it about for another hour of the night, until Jack Spade lifts it from her hands and starts to bite into it.
Aspasia frowns. The apple had been a comfortable thing in her hand, distracting her from the mess of clothing. She was about to grab it back from him when the news came radiating through the crowd - Callaghan was attacked. No, it was Caderyn. No, it was both.
First one is dead. Then Kinkaid has been attacked as well. The confusion mounts.
With confusion comes protection - wanted or needed is not something they are willing to discuss. Aspasia is ringed by Gangrel, self-appointed to guard her.
Well, not entirely -she senses the hands of her childer in some measure. Those she will speak to later.
The night moves apace with ever increasing rumors, to include the presence of VII near the gathering.
The dress truly annoys the Amazon now. She ties the sleeves in knots.
She speaks to the woman of the Thorned Wreath - of rumors that fill the main room - the Gangrel wish to kill her, kill Invictus. Not all the Gangrel - just the Ravenscarred.
This can be solved with a simple discussion - she seeks out the first of Exodus’ brood who crosses her path. And as that issue is dispatched, another arises.
Jack comes up and grabs the flower from where she has tucked it into her belt. He rambles something about the flowers being used to target people.
She frowns.
If someone is so intent on attacking kindred they perceive as dangers or threats, then let them.
She is not afraid. Jack refuses to hand the flower back over. He disappears into the crowd gathered in the room. She could have followed if not hampered by the gold dress. The aggravation is like salt on open wounds.
Since it seems she can do nothing but wait, Aspasia decides to wait things out by sitting on the Lion throne. At least the dress blends with it.
And there, hours pass. Some are agog at the actions of the Gangrel who would dare. Others find it amusing as she. Aspasia hopes Caderyn will appear soon. He might even agree she looks magnificent draped in gold. Regal as an influential Invictus.
And there is the other matter, Katja earlier found Jack's hidden trove of "assassin's flowers". If they are truly marking out those to be attacked, she must be glowing to them with the light of Apollo's chariot. For, three of the buds now rest hidden in the sleeves of the gold dress. While she sits only feet from the pacing Cajun.
For a moment, these secret thoughts bring a smile to her lips.
Reports come streaming back to her from both expected and unanticipated sources.
Callaghan, broodmate to Kinkaid is dead.
Bastian loses a childe.
Caderyn lives.
But the night, for Aspasia does not provide upheaval.
It has been a year and a night since Hisa’s death.
A year, a month and a night since Dallas’ ending at her hands.
She counts each one when she sleeps to avoid the sun’s touch.
Jack is in the same House.
It has been months since she last saw Raven. Heard about the travels he and Exodus have been on.
There are her childer. There is her clan.
But, even on a borrowed throne, the Amazon sits in isolation. Alone.
Aspasia fumed as she had help dressing for the Ballio. In an effort to honor the wishes of the hosts - asking kindred to embody characters from Shakespeare’s plays, she thought the request would be easy. She would come as Hyppolyta, Queen of the Amazons, from his Midsummer’s Night Dream. That was a mistake.
Her plan to dress in ‘traditional’ Amazon costume, was de-cried as being scandalous. As if there was anything displeasing about bare-breasts. Yes, even though it would make the use of the bow less taxing, Aspasia was untouched by the knife on her torso. So, she had to make due.
In this case, making due was a period costume, from the time that the play was originally performed. It was a monstrosity of gold and skirts. Skirts! It was laced in along the chest and waist, then expanded in volume that swirled about her feet and legs, threatening to trip her up at any given opportunity. And the sleeves, you could hide a small island, or a shape-shifted Gangrel in them and no-one would be the wiser. All in all it was an infuriating mess. And she was condemned to it for the length of the night.
Unless, she could find a valid excuse.
So, she came to the party location, only to be lead to a separate entrance. It appeared the Admired and such would be parading in.
Why do the Lance have to do this? And why do I stand for it?
The proclamations were at least blessedly short and Aspasia soon found herself drifting through a ballroom full of predators, with an entourage in tow of several reliable members of the clan. In her hand one of the tokens given to the special guests, a short stemmed rose, gilded with gold and brightly ribboned. She just looked at it with bemusement when it was offered to her.
Then, her irritation found a viable outlet in regarding the main table and who was seated next to Bastian’s sorcerous daughter.
Liberty Stone, the great joke the Carthians play on society. Now given substance by one who is supposed to be her ally.
What can he possibly bring to the table, unless it’s his suffering in Mackenzie’s bed.
She can feel her beast drawing strength from the passion of her disdain, and her indignation.
What possible explanation can be provided by Bastian to excuse this? Does he not care what such public support of Liberty says about him and his childer? Does he really need to indulge his daughter in this fashion?
She turns her back on the crowd at the elevated table, and her eyes spot a glimpse of gold. It draws her across the room.
It’s not merely a chair, but a throne. Nothing less than that. Inquiries reveal that Caderyn uses it. The “Lion throne”. She smiles. Here is another move in the greater Danse.
She can’t wait to see him take his seat. It’s will be most exciting thing the Daeva has done in decades. And it won’t require much in the way of exertion. But, it is a proclamation. She wonders if he intends it for his covenant or his clan - more than likely both. Which will meet with some opposition. But, no doubt his people have already advised him.
It was after a short conversation in a corner, as she walked away - one youthful kindred intercepted the Amazon in her stomping about (the fabric of the skirt was much easier to manage when you picked half of it up and just walked like normal, even if it wasn’t pretty).
He reached out a hand, in it there was a single apple. He murmured something she did not quiet catch, but it was something to the intent of “for the fairest”.
He has confused his stories. I do not think Shakespeare wrote of Troy, and if I am to be one of the goddesses, then where are Aphrodite and Athena?
Aspasia offers a slightly confused word of thanks to the boy, and takes the apple.
Much later she was told how the young kindred was taken away shortly afterward, and quizzed about his gift, - was it cursed? Did he mean ill to Aspasia? What was his intent?
Not knowing what to do with it, she carries it about for another hour of the night, until Jack Spade lifts it from her hands and starts to bite into it.
Aspasia frowns. The apple had been a comfortable thing in her hand, distracting her from the mess of clothing. She was about to grab it back from him when the news came radiating through the crowd - Callaghan was attacked. No, it was Caderyn. No, it was both.
First one is dead. Then Kinkaid has been attacked as well. The confusion mounts.
With confusion comes protection - wanted or needed is not something they are willing to discuss. Aspasia is ringed by Gangrel, self-appointed to guard her.
Well, not entirely -she senses the hands of her childer in some measure. Those she will speak to later.
The night moves apace with ever increasing rumors, to include the presence of VII near the gathering.
The dress truly annoys the Amazon now. She ties the sleeves in knots.
She speaks to the woman of the Thorned Wreath - of rumors that fill the main room - the Gangrel wish to kill her, kill Invictus. Not all the Gangrel - just the Ravenscarred.
This can be solved with a simple discussion - she seeks out the first of Exodus’ brood who crosses her path. And as that issue is dispatched, another arises.
Jack comes up and grabs the flower from where she has tucked it into her belt. He rambles something about the flowers being used to target people.
She frowns.
If someone is so intent on attacking kindred they perceive as dangers or threats, then let them.
She is not afraid. Jack refuses to hand the flower back over. He disappears into the crowd gathered in the room. She could have followed if not hampered by the gold dress. The aggravation is like salt on open wounds.
Since it seems she can do nothing but wait, Aspasia decides to wait things out by sitting on the Lion throne. At least the dress blends with it.
And there, hours pass. Some are agog at the actions of the Gangrel who would dare. Others find it amusing as she. Aspasia hopes Caderyn will appear soon. He might even agree she looks magnificent draped in gold. Regal as an influential Invictus.
And there is the other matter, Katja earlier found Jack's hidden trove of "assassin's flowers". If they are truly marking out those to be attacked, she must be glowing to them with the light of Apollo's chariot. For, three of the buds now rest hidden in the sleeves of the gold dress. While she sits only feet from the pacing Cajun.
For a moment, these secret thoughts bring a smile to her lips.
Reports come streaming back to her from both expected and unanticipated sources.
Callaghan, broodmate to Kinkaid is dead.
Bastian loses a childe.
Caderyn lives.
But the night, for Aspasia does not provide upheaval.
It has been a year and a night since Hisa’s death.
A year, a month and a night since Dallas’ ending at her hands.
She counts each one when she sleeps to avoid the sun’s touch.
Jack is in the same House.
It has been months since she last saw Raven. Heard about the travels he and Exodus have been on.
There are her childer. There is her clan.
But, even on a borrowed throne, the Amazon sits in isolation. Alone.