The pony-tailed ghoul sits in the driver's seat of Arielle's hearse, 90's grunge playing quietly from the stereo. At the sound of the passenger side door opening, he glances to his mistress. "Ready to go, alrea..." his voice trails off when he takes in Arielle's expression. "Ari? What's wrong?"

The Toreador settles into the seat. "Please...just drive. Go." Her voice is cracked and unsteady.

While Remy drives, Arielle frantically types on her phone. After several moments, she sets her phone in the center console and buries her head in her hands. At this unusual show of emotion from his mistress, the ghoul pulls into a half empty parking lot. "Ari, talk to me. For Christ's sake!" Bravely pulling her hands away from her face, he's shocked by what he sees. The Toreador's visage is in a rictus of dismay, her eyes desperate and as near tears as he's ever seen.

"They're dead, Remy. I think..." she gasps in an unneeded breath. "I think they're both dead."

The ghoul inquires as to whom, although his tone suggests that he already suspects the answer. "Cezaar and Jericho, both. The Lupine took Jericho after it almost dismembered me. And Lord Ash...that treacherous maniac...ordered a Bloodhunt on Mr. Azreahl. They beat him and set him on fire..." She once again picks up her phone, firing off a message. "...then he disappeared."

Remy looks confused. "Disappeared? As in 'poof' or as in..." He doesn't finish his sentence, imagining the worst.

She shrugs, at a loss. "Maybe...if Grendel..." She looks to her silent phone, helplessly. "I've been trying to contact him. When the Bloodhunt began, I asked..." shaking her head, almost ashamed. "No. I begged Grendel to help him. Cezaar. I couldn't. He forbade me from intervening in such a matter. I just stood by. I stood by as they beat him. I stood by as those monsters took Jericho." She shudders, her eyes distant. "Just like I stood by as they burned..."

Arielle's mind flashes back to the last night she was with her Sire. The secret of their bloodline had been exposed to the council, much like in the present. Majority opinion was not favorable, and the pair of them were condemned. At the crucial moment, Harkness cleared an escape plan for his childe. Crafting Arielle's features into someone unrecognizable, he ordered her to leave that very night.

She watched from the bloodthirsty crowd, blending in despite the lack of barbarous ferocity that lacked in her expression. Harkness was restrained, the fire beneath him lit. Before he turned to ash, his eyes met Arielle's in the crowd. The last sight was of his childe standing by, doing nothing as he burned...

Arielle comes back into the now...mostly. Remy's concern grows for her. "Ari, what are you going to do?" The ghoul is almost frightened by the blank, helpless look on his mistress's face.

"What -can- I do, Remy? I'm a disgraced Volgirre, bound to a Bloodhunted fugitive. I can't turn to Jericho, he's likely just as dead as Cezaar. Even Xanzer has turned away from Ash's reign. I'm on my own, and I can't...I can't.." Arielle's lamenting is interrupted by the chirping of her phone. She snatches it up, desperate for any sort of news. Remy watches as her face turns from hopeful to furious. "Sutherland. How DARE that Gangrel contact me after I watched him throttle Mr. Azreahl into torpor.. " She stares at the message a few moments longer, a strange expression on her face. She pulls the GPS up on her phone, punching an address in after glancing at the clock. When she speaks again, her voice retains some of it's normal dignity. "Go to this destination." The ghoul starts the car again without comment. They drive in an uncomfortable silence for the journey to Sutherland's garage. Once pulling up to the gate, Arielle speaks once more. "Wait here. One way or another, this won't take long." Remy holds back his vexation and watches his Mistress exit the vehicle, the only sound being the baying of dogs on the other side of the gate.

Three quarters of an hour later, Arielle returns to the hearse. "Home?" She nods, and he's relieved to see a hint of stony resolve in her face. "Was the Gangrel helpful?"

She seems to ponder this. "Perhaps. More helpful than harmful, at least. He'll have his uses."

Remy pulls the hearse into the driveway, as the security gate closes behind them. Once inside the Toreador's haven, he turns to Arielle, who's already resting cross-legged on the antique sofa, her laptop open on her lap. "Uses for what?"

She types vigorously for several minutes before answering. She looks up at the ghoul, her sea green eyes meeting the ghouls hazel ones. "For a mutiny." Remy seems surprised at his mistress's new ambition. "I've been weary of Lord Ash's reign since coming to this city." She smiles, almost wickedly. "Turns out I'm not the only one. Ideal, even, as I'd have no chance of over throwing him on my own. Always the brains, never the brawn...That's were Sutherland comes in." She types more and sends something online. "And others. Many others. Aurelia, Montano, Faith, Hanzel, Jeri..." She catches herself, mid sentence. The sorrow returns to her features as she removes a blade from her boot where she stashed it. It's Jericho's treasured knife. It sings to her, but she can barely hear it over her anguish. Despite the feverish excitement over a potential schism, one that will surely bring the prince from his throne, she still mourns her lovers. Without another word to the ghoul she sets the computer on the coffee table and disappears down the hallway to her bedroom.

When Remy checks on his mistress, less than an hour before dawn, he's confronted with no encouraging sight. Arielle reclines on the four poster bed, staring at fixed spot in the air. Once again, her neglect to feed shows in the gaunt pallidness upon her face and the bruised circles under her eyes. On the nightstand beside the bed rests the singing blade, her cell phone and a unrecognizable gold ring.

"Can I get you anything, Ari?" The ghoul speaks quietly, as if afraid she'll startle.

"No, Remy. I just need...time. A night to..." she looks at her phone, then back at nothing. "...mentally recuperate." Her own voice seems as devoid of life as her near-starved visage.

Remy starts to leave, but speaks again, unable to walk away with Arielle looking so desolate. "Would you like me to stay...with you."

Her stare snaps to Remy, and her answer is curt, although lacking the usual coldness she directs towards the ghoul. "No." He dips his head in a subservient bow to her, and exits the room. Some time later, pointedly avoiding looking towards the end of her bed, Arielle falls into a fitful, but healing day's sleep.