Aspasia - Atlanta - May 3, 2007
The problem with peace is that it becomes tedious.
Aspasia contemplated the very fact of her boredom, straddling the chair beside the Prince’s table. Being a hound was Jack’s idea. For the first time in the recollection of her requiem, the Amazon was a court officer - Prisci does not count, that is for the clan, not for the prince or city - even if it others may think contrary.
She never liked the idea of being tied to a single place, beholden. Aspasia had been able to avoid those societal duties for the entirety of her residency in Washington DC, thanks in no small measure to Urvi’s passion for such things. Now, she was the Hound of Atlanta. It was supposed to help her pull up from the drops in humanity sustained over the recent years. After all, it would not do for her to slip down - not when the blood of others was becoming so tasty to consider.
Hence the reality of the present, where she sits, tapping her fingers along the frame of the chair.
Scanning the room, Aspasia amused herself while considering the practical application of who in this room would be the greatest threat and in what order the other kindred should be removed, if she ever needed to. The internal list was constantly shifting. Who would need to be die first?
That in itself was a sign of concern. In the past it would have been, who she should neutralize first.
Where in the priority list did the latest arrival to the meeting fit? And so forth.
The very stability of Atlanta, one reason she left Bastian’s city, was also a trial. It was good to have a stable base, but when one was ‘grounded’ - it was like salt in open wounds. Constantly irritating.
On the other hand, it was pleasant to have one of her childer near at hand again. Jessica had relocated to Atlanta as well, and it had been an extremely long time since Aspasia had enjoyed the nightly companionship of one of her brood. Given her recent promise to Sydney, the only way that grounding in the modern night’s would take place was with one already embraced and unleashed on the Danse.
And of course, there was Charlotte, who arrived the night before, but was involved in Ordo things, and thus already away with her covenant for some hours of time. The length of this daughter’s visit was still malleable, based on events unfolding in the area of her Seattle home.
The phone call Aspasia received was a reply to her silent invocation of Artemis. An incident worthy of investigation in the city. Kindred, not one of the acknowledged, Masquerade breaker.
Her beast purred. Nothing like society-approved combat. Although likely to be little of a challenge, just by the odds, still a chance to vent some of her restless energy.
Departing the court, Augustine joined the Amazon and her eldest daughter on the hunt.
***
In less than an hour, there was one less kindred in the world. And based on the evidence provided, soon to likely be another who would be sleeping, either from torpor or final death. But, that would be for the Prince to determine. They had the evidence required. Who was to know if the violator was not already forewarned? Time was of the essence. The three needed to get back and report to Moxley immediately.
After making good time, they arrived at the hotel and proceeded towards the Prince’s private audience chambers, having established she was not in evidence in the main gather.
Just down the hall, one of the city rushed past, calling out to the rest, “TO THE PRINCE!”
Aspasia’s speed outstripped her two companions, but the door that she threw herself against did not give way, although it shuddered with the blow of her body, followed directly by an equal impression by Augustine.
The second time she hammered upon it, the door flew open.
The sight within was that of three in the city - The Prince, The Bishop and one of the Primogen, along with another figure, unknown to the Amazon.
The Lancea wielded a flare of sorts, brandishing it between himself, Cier and Moxley. The Prince was clearly in frenzy, and this fourth being was attempting to flee. Unfortunately for him, the Amazon was blocking the sole, visible exit. As he attempted to pass, she grabbed a hold of him with her arms.
While this was occurring, Augustine grappled with Moxley and pulled her out of the room and down the hall, to a safe distance, all while she was now clawing at him in unreasoning fury.
Much to Aspasia’s frustration, while she thought the unknown was safe in her grasp, he turned to mist and started to flee in that form. She looked quickly at the two other residents. “Are you hurt?”
They indicated no.
“Do you have this in hand?”
Cier nodded, and when the Amazon turned to run after Augustine and the Prince, the Lancea offered a piece of information, “Be careful, She frenzied on me.” He gestures to the flare, which while uncomfortable did not create in Aspasia an urge to run away. “This was to protect..”
She cuts him off with a nod. And runs off.
***
Augustine has taken the Prince off site to a secure place, until the assassin can be located. Except that it appears things were very different than the original assessment.
Moxley speaks on the phone. “Cier and Rui tried to kill me. Tried to take praxis.”
Aspasia is surprised. “What do you want me to do?”
“Don’t get killed.”
By now, the Amazon is headed back into the Hotel. The place that was supplied and secured by Cier, if her memory serves. She enters the grand gather, phone in hand.
“I have just spoken with the Prince. There has been an attempt on her life tonight. By the primogen Cier and Bishop Rui.”
The Nosferatu is the first to speak up. “Did she say anything else.”
“Only that I do my best not to die tonight.” Aspasia replies.
There is a soft chuckle in the room, before the more serious issue is addressed.
“Was that all?”
“The conversation was brief,” Aspasia explains. “She said they tried to kill her, take Praxis.”
She looks around the room. “Where are the Prisci?”
Dorothea and the others present make themselves known.
“As far as I am aware, Moxley is still Prince of Atlanta. Is this so?”
The group, court officers and citizens all seem to affirm their support of the Gangrel Praxis. Or else the dissenters, other than one, were not in Aspasia’s line of sight.
The line is connected after one ring.
“Prince Moxley, I am here with the assembly of city residents. I have told them what you said about the attempt on your life. Do you have any instructions?”
Over the speakerphone, Prince Moxley’s voice is heard by those close to Aspasia, “Yes. Cier is no longer Primogen. Rui is to be staked and brought to me. He is not to die.”
“He is in this room now.” Aspasia stares across the crowd at the Lancea.
The Lancea steps forward, offering his willingness to accept staking and to be brought to the Prince.
The loud Daeva woman comes forward, more than willing to commit the act. She stabs him once in the heart and nothing happens. The stake clatters to the ground.
The second time, Dorothea succeeds.
One threat is dealt with temporarily, but Cier is nowhere to be found.
Aspasia accepts responsibility of the body until the Prince can inform her where it must be delivered later in the night.
***
Only a short span of hours pass, and the Prince calls. The transgressor is handed over and Aspasia returns to the shelter of Karsten’s Stone Mountain.
She is seated at the edge of the lake, trailing the fingers of her right hand in the water as she looks on the dark,placid surface and listens to the sound of the night’s creatures.
Behind her, the step is a familiar one though the moon is obscured behind the clouds and the figure is unseen.
The Amazon turns her head to welcome the arrival.
“Aspasia, there is news.” The words are hesitant, a tone of voice she has not heard before. “From Africa…”
There is a measure of three, perhaps four breaths, and the peace of the place is shattered by a cry of heart-wrenching woe. The kind of cry a dying animal might make.
Aspasia contemplated the very fact of her boredom, straddling the chair beside the Prince’s table. Being a hound was Jack’s idea. For the first time in the recollection of her requiem, the Amazon was a court officer - Prisci does not count, that is for the clan, not for the prince or city - even if it others may think contrary.
She never liked the idea of being tied to a single place, beholden. Aspasia had been able to avoid those societal duties for the entirety of her residency in Washington DC, thanks in no small measure to Urvi’s passion for such things. Now, she was the Hound of Atlanta. It was supposed to help her pull up from the drops in humanity sustained over the recent years. After all, it would not do for her to slip down - not when the blood of others was becoming so tasty to consider.
Hence the reality of the present, where she sits, tapping her fingers along the frame of the chair.
Scanning the room, Aspasia amused herself while considering the practical application of who in this room would be the greatest threat and in what order the other kindred should be removed, if she ever needed to. The internal list was constantly shifting. Who would need to be die first?
That in itself was a sign of concern. In the past it would have been, who she should neutralize first.
Where in the priority list did the latest arrival to the meeting fit? And so forth.
The very stability of Atlanta, one reason she left Bastian’s city, was also a trial. It was good to have a stable base, but when one was ‘grounded’ - it was like salt in open wounds. Constantly irritating.
On the other hand, it was pleasant to have one of her childer near at hand again. Jessica had relocated to Atlanta as well, and it had been an extremely long time since Aspasia had enjoyed the nightly companionship of one of her brood. Given her recent promise to Sydney, the only way that grounding in the modern night’s would take place was with one already embraced and unleashed on the Danse.
And of course, there was Charlotte, who arrived the night before, but was involved in Ordo things, and thus already away with her covenant for some hours of time. The length of this daughter’s visit was still malleable, based on events unfolding in the area of her Seattle home.
The phone call Aspasia received was a reply to her silent invocation of Artemis. An incident worthy of investigation in the city. Kindred, not one of the acknowledged, Masquerade breaker.
Her beast purred. Nothing like society-approved combat. Although likely to be little of a challenge, just by the odds, still a chance to vent some of her restless energy.
Departing the court, Augustine joined the Amazon and her eldest daughter on the hunt.
***
In less than an hour, there was one less kindred in the world. And based on the evidence provided, soon to likely be another who would be sleeping, either from torpor or final death. But, that would be for the Prince to determine. They had the evidence required. Who was to know if the violator was not already forewarned? Time was of the essence. The three needed to get back and report to Moxley immediately.
After making good time, they arrived at the hotel and proceeded towards the Prince’s private audience chambers, having established she was not in evidence in the main gather.
Just down the hall, one of the city rushed past, calling out to the rest, “TO THE PRINCE!”
Aspasia’s speed outstripped her two companions, but the door that she threw herself against did not give way, although it shuddered with the blow of her body, followed directly by an equal impression by Augustine.
The second time she hammered upon it, the door flew open.
The sight within was that of three in the city - The Prince, The Bishop and one of the Primogen, along with another figure, unknown to the Amazon.
The Lancea wielded a flare of sorts, brandishing it between himself, Cier and Moxley. The Prince was clearly in frenzy, and this fourth being was attempting to flee. Unfortunately for him, the Amazon was blocking the sole, visible exit. As he attempted to pass, she grabbed a hold of him with her arms.
While this was occurring, Augustine grappled with Moxley and pulled her out of the room and down the hall, to a safe distance, all while she was now clawing at him in unreasoning fury.
Much to Aspasia’s frustration, while she thought the unknown was safe in her grasp, he turned to mist and started to flee in that form. She looked quickly at the two other residents. “Are you hurt?”
They indicated no.
“Do you have this in hand?”
Cier nodded, and when the Amazon turned to run after Augustine and the Prince, the Lancea offered a piece of information, “Be careful, She frenzied on me.” He gestures to the flare, which while uncomfortable did not create in Aspasia an urge to run away. “This was to protect..”
She cuts him off with a nod. And runs off.
***
Augustine has taken the Prince off site to a secure place, until the assassin can be located. Except that it appears things were very different than the original assessment.
Moxley speaks on the phone. “Cier and Rui tried to kill me. Tried to take praxis.”
Aspasia is surprised. “What do you want me to do?”
“Don’t get killed.”
By now, the Amazon is headed back into the Hotel. The place that was supplied and secured by Cier, if her memory serves. She enters the grand gather, phone in hand.
“I have just spoken with the Prince. There has been an attempt on her life tonight. By the primogen Cier and Bishop Rui.”
The Nosferatu is the first to speak up. “Did she say anything else.”
“Only that I do my best not to die tonight.” Aspasia replies.
There is a soft chuckle in the room, before the more serious issue is addressed.
“Was that all?”
“The conversation was brief,” Aspasia explains. “She said they tried to kill her, take Praxis.”
She looks around the room. “Where are the Prisci?”
Dorothea and the others present make themselves known.
“As far as I am aware, Moxley is still Prince of Atlanta. Is this so?”
The group, court officers and citizens all seem to affirm their support of the Gangrel Praxis. Or else the dissenters, other than one, were not in Aspasia’s line of sight.
The line is connected after one ring.
“Prince Moxley, I am here with the assembly of city residents. I have told them what you said about the attempt on your life. Do you have any instructions?”
Over the speakerphone, Prince Moxley’s voice is heard by those close to Aspasia, “Yes. Cier is no longer Primogen. Rui is to be staked and brought to me. He is not to die.”
“He is in this room now.” Aspasia stares across the crowd at the Lancea.
The Lancea steps forward, offering his willingness to accept staking and to be brought to the Prince.
The loud Daeva woman comes forward, more than willing to commit the act. She stabs him once in the heart and nothing happens. The stake clatters to the ground.
The second time, Dorothea succeeds.
One threat is dealt with temporarily, but Cier is nowhere to be found.
Aspasia accepts responsibility of the body until the Prince can inform her where it must be delivered later in the night.
***
Only a short span of hours pass, and the Prince calls. The transgressor is handed over and Aspasia returns to the shelter of Karsten’s Stone Mountain.
She is seated at the edge of the lake, trailing the fingers of her right hand in the water as she looks on the dark,placid surface and listens to the sound of the night’s creatures.
Behind her, the step is a familiar one though the moon is obscured behind the clouds and the figure is unseen.
The Amazon turns her head to welcome the arrival.
“Aspasia, there is news.” The words are hesitant, a tone of voice she has not heard before. “From Africa…”
There is a measure of three, perhaps four breaths, and the peace of the place is shattered by a cry of heart-wrenching woe. The kind of cry a dying animal might make.