Happy Christmas everyone! Sorry this took so long, to be honest it was a hard chapter to write I really wanted to delve into the Giovanni but I felt I was using too much game dialogue but then I felt it helps set the scene and begin the development of characters, I mean this fanfic is inspired by the game after all. Anyway hope you all enjoy!


A wonderful gilded prison sat high on a hill, at first it seemed to reek of opulence but as I wandered closer I saw the decay, ivy strangling the chipped white walls, statues missing limbs, perhaps one Mr Gimble had taken them, stains streaking down the walls, brown in the lights streaming through the thin curtains, and a scent of rot from somewhere below, something akin to the reek in Romero's graveyard. I saw a grand, three tiered fountain and hurried over to steal its coins but found its basin disappointingly dry and empty, had some water nymph beat me to the theft? Was her fountain father dead and dry? I looked in confusion and caught the lazy eyed brown stare of a woman a little too inebriated to focus properly on me. She was one of several glamorously dressed people spread out across the uneven garden, some clustered by the doors smoking, others by the stretched out parked cars, poor vehicles were victims too long in the rack. I flickered a glance to the door and saw the tough thugs in tight suits that might create a slight problem for little me.

I had, at Sebastian's insistence, dressed as prettily, demurely and concealed as I could, couldn't draw attention to the eccentricity, to the wounds, to the mutations, and especially not to the madness. The Giovanni were so used to treachery that they were usually the quickest to sense it, paranoia had them wary and unwelcoming of strangers but neglect and horniness thankfully meant that their family was so large that one, with care, could make pretence at being a member.

I turned my attention back to my smoky eyed companion and smiled. She wobbled unsteadily, smoothed down her purposely tight, lacy vest, smiled and queried bluntly with a hint of laughter, "yee-ah, what is it?" I swallowed down a ball of contempt as I wondered if she was mocking me, spying the marks I tried to conceal, claws hidden beneath thick, black gloves with faux fur trim, fun costumes traded for a crimson dress, sleeveless, low cut and yet down to my ankles to hide the ruined leg, high heeled, black shoes, a poor trade for cowboy boots and the studded, leather boots Romero was so fond of, a black stole to hide my pallid shoulders and most of my pale arms and my wild, dark hair down to shield my ruined eye as best it could. Had the sweet wine on her breath given her the ability to see through my guise? Was I doomed before I even attempted deception?

We are the masters of deceiving, the wielders of illusion, cut down the inbreds who make play with the dead. I smiled as I agreed with the voices, no Kine could outwit me. "Is this where the Giovanni gather?" I queried innocently.

She looked puzzled for a moment before answering with uncertainty, "Giovanni? Oh yeah, here's the place. I haven't met you before..." She slurred over her words, doubting each one and I wondered if she was but a puppet pushed on by an imposter trying to wing it. "You a...family...member...member of the family?"

"I am flesh and blood," I answered truthfully, well I was despite the Tzimisce's best attempts to see that I was other parts too. Alright so I was now flesh, fur and blood but I did not think such a minute detail needed mentioned.

She looked delighted with me and chirped happily, "izzat right? Helluva family to be born into or marry into...or both." Hmm now there was a thought, were they so close or simply so afraid of outsiders? Were they as mutated as me perhaps? I glanced about shadily, certainly not to the open eye or indeed the pus filled one. "You have an invitation with you?"

"Somewhere within a dark, dark pocket in a dark, dark coat in a dark, dark closet perhaps," I answered with what I hopped was a convincingly stupid look to mirror her own.

She giggled, and tapped my arm lightly with her sparkling nails, glittering and pink I thought they would look lovely on a chain about my neck. "Ah, don't worry about it," she assured me as she stumbled slightly and reached out to me again to support herself. So she wasn't repulsed by me then, either she was not vain, or my illusion was convincing, or, I had to consider, maybe it was only the Toreador and certain Kine who simply were not attracted to me, that were revolted by me, yes perhaps my injuries were not severe, so horrid, perhaps I could still seduce and charm without need of illusion and power, perhaps... Perhaps the mirror is best left cracked, lest Snow see what she has rotted to in death. "I'm sure they'll let you in," my new friend continued. "Just tell 'em th- just tell you...just tell them you lost it. I lose things all the time."

"Ah when the mind is a sieve it so hard to keep the grains of thought in it, but so easy to scatter the crumbs of nightmares," I mused. "Are you using your invite?" I looked at her keenly, stirring up the confusion planted by alcohol, turning her brain through the foam, twisting her thoughts through a dizzy daze.

"Did I just say I have an invitation? I thought I did..." She glanced about herself, pulling up part of her short, black skirt, giggling and then pulling out her vest top slightly to laugh down at her breasts and the thin paper tucked in between them. I heard her male companion give a grunt of displeasure and ensured his muteness with a glower; he could not interrupt just yet. Keep the barbed tongue silent, we must hear the whispers howling down the corridor, the screams of the burned child, the wails of the dead, so much to hear, too many voices, just listen to the cries of the mad, they make the most sense in the end. "Yeah, I got an invitation," she informed me merrily as her pink painted lips smiled.

I narrowed my gaze viciously, this sweet friendship had to end now, a pity but the prince's deeds needed done. Alas I could not, she had touched me without a shudder, looked at me with only a smidgen of mockery, and that was the beer's ridicule, beverages could be so judgemental. I nodded wearily. "I'll see you inside," I retorted before turning my attention swiftly to the muted male. He was pallid but not to my extent, dark haired, poised, good looking and stern mannered. "Who are you?" I asked curiously.

"Victor Rossellini," he answered bluntly.

"Not a Giovanni?" I pondered. "Do you have an invite?"

"Maria is the Giovanni," he answered with an eye roll of disgust towards my new friend. I glanced over and she waved happily before letting out a burp concealed with a laugh.

"Are you using your invite?" I asked him, wondering if couples could depend on just one piece of card.

"Of course," he answered patronisingly as he looked at me with distain. Always much easier to mindfuck the ones who are hostile. "Who are you?" he demanded suspiciously.

I smirked back rancorously. "I'm you. Don't you recognise yourself?"

His dark eyes wavered in doubt, horror and then a mad delight I was so good at causing. "There I am!" he exclaimed joyously. "You're looking sharp, old boy- that time on the treadmill's really paying off. Oh, and you'll be needing this if you want to attend that party, me." How silly to think my skills were going rusty, the Tzimisce could not diminish my abilities, scars or not I would succeed again and again! I accepted the invite he produced from his trouser pocket with a nod of gratitude as Maria snickered obliviously and stumbled slightly over the pebbled path.

I attempted to prance up to the double wooden doors but my leg refused to comply and I was forced to walk, probably for the best anyway, had to remember to be low key. "You have invitation?" the shiny headed bouncer questioned with a frown.

"I have my ticket," I answered proudly, "let me in the fun house." I whipped it out and wavered it under his wide nose.

"Victor Rossellini?" he questioned with a scowl that I suspected suggested my entry might yet be denied.

"My parents wanted a boy," I lamented, "and my lack of a penis sadly wasn't enough to deter them from charade."

His pale brown eyes widened and his frown deepened as his cheeks turned a light rosy pink.

"Daddy insisted I played football, all I wanted was to do ballet," I continued passionately, "when I was older he bought me porn when I wanted ponies."

"Alright, alright," he protested. "Please have a wonderful time." He waved towards the doors desperately and I hurried forward eagerly.

Inside was a small reception room, two lamps in modern, black stems and another bouncer guarded the way to the Italian mysteries. The floor was grey and white checked and I was most tempted to suggest an impromptu game of chess with the red tied guard. There are enough pawns moving, Jyhad is a bigger game to be played, I was reminded. I stepped through the next set of doors to enter a Wonderland of gangsters, bloodsuckers and gold diggers, Alice would have been most disappointed. Walls of polished greys, floors of shined marble, rippled columns at every turn and at last the arena with its sharp eyed Romans, the lions masquerading with the gladiators, such wondrous and convincing disguises of affluence and beauty, had perhaps a Giovanni deceived Little Red?

I remembered Kent's suggestion of using Auspex more and separated the sheep from the bats, the blue suited bouncers were Kindred and behind them, through the thick walls and barred doors, a flicker of purple, the predators in hungry waiting. How many would leave this party? The guards looked back at me with warning black stares, they had no Auspex and yet I suspected they knew I breathed as little as they. Their ancestors had possessed it but alas the bloodline had been watered down despite its continuous blood devouring, yes I had done my research, a quick scan through a tome of Romero's and the voices told me the rest, this family based clan was too obsessed with the rattles of the dead to care for any other disciplines. Their nature to control gave them Dominance and their common desire to appear tough gave them Potence, but the third discipline, yes I could sniff it on them, something Xander would have benefited from, it was the blood magic that could control the dead.

I hastened on into the front room, a grand staircase split down the middle, uniting halfway and leading up to the balcony was the main feature, along with a sadly unused grand piano, though I doubt its tinkling keys could be heard over the manipulative chatter. I headed to it keenly to tap a key but was stopped by the contemptuous eyed female lingering near it. Young, tanned and beautiful with a black bob, a sumptuous red corset and split black skirt that showed off her toned body, long legs and modest yet tempting chest, I loved and loathed her immediately. Any Toreador would be sorely tempted by her, I knew Kent would have gone to her immediately and charmed her to his dead bed, there were many eyes on her tonight but her icy cobalt stare and curled lips of contempt kept them at bay.

She looked at me with confident pomposity but I knew it was a guise, were we all disguised here? The Masquerade had nothing on these power mad tricksters. "Might as well be a costume party," she remarked sardonically, "everyone smiling, pretending this isn't a pageant put on by the patriarch of this family. Fine. But this is a contest and I came to win." Such arrogance, but this beauty had more at stake than she was telling. I could hear her blood pumping round her madly, she was nervous, excited and terrified, yes I could smell it. I wanted to sample her but I daren't, probably just as well she had a choker to protect her tender neck though how taunting it was, continuously drawing my attention to her supple throat. Had she some scar to hide like me?

"Chug chug," I mused, "your train of thought is too quick for me."

She sighed heavily and folded her arms. "If you don't even know about the contest, then you really don't have to worry about winning it." I saw the slight glimmer of relief in her blue eyes; I was no competitor to face in the arena, one less threat to worry about. Ah how naive, she was oblivious to the monster that I was.

"I'm Maria," I lied cheerfully, "and you?"

"Mira," she retorted like it pained her, well no surprise that Beauty was vain, never a Princess Beautiful Personality in the stories, is there? "Mira Giovanni."

I wondered if this anxious beauty queen could be of use in unlocking the secrets of the Giovanni. Certainly she reeked of secrets, a most pleasant if tangy odour; it raced down her skin rapidly, entangling itself in her perfume. "So this contest?" I queried eagerly. "Egg and spoon?"

She frowned, gave me a scrutinising stare I was growing used to and then answered haughtily, "They gather us up here to decide just who the best and brightest of this generation is. The lucky few are given the real power in this family." Real power? Now could that mean the blood of an ancient, or was I just too hopeful for luck and easy answers tonight? "But some of us need to win more than others."

I sniffed it on her, death, not the same death that clung to me but something subtler, slower and poisonous. "Open the box Pandora," I willed her impatiently, tired of how she looked pointedly at my eye with an unhidden disgust. "Let your sins come out."

Her eyes glazed over and I watched gleefully as she mimed out opening a box before gesturing to the invisible sins flying out. "I got curious with needles," she confessed, "and now I'm HIV positive."

"Ah the blood is polluted," I realised. "Silly girl, it tastes bitter now, disappointing. Mother always said; don't play with the pointy things."

"Oh and there's the time I slept with my friend's boyfriend," she murmured dopily as she waved goodbye to another sin escaping.

I nodded with disinterest before swirling from her and gazing about the room for someone more engaging. Somewhere in this mansion a coffin lingered, I could feel something in the air, something pulsing, quiet but threatening, curious and patient, it was near but where? I caught sight of a disinterested, handsome soul standing beneath the balcony against a wall, holding a whiskey with obvious contempt. Ah it was too tempting to see if I could break his walls down, yes smash them all and prove my powers still useful and yes, perhaps I could seduce him too, just to show Mira and the other judgement females that stared so coldly at my eye and my noticeable limp that I could yet attract.

I hurried to him with a smile and remarked, "you are as happy as the moon when the cow has failed to clear the jump."

He gave me a wary golden-brown eyed look before commenting derisively, "you must be from the closer family cliques."

"Ah I am the black sheep of the herd," I replied merrily, "here to attempt grazing with the white flock."

He sighed. "Family events...how many more of these do we have to attend before we're taken seriously? Well," he gave me a look of cool disapproval, "I'm taken seriously. I mean...honestly."

He was rugged looking, a darker skinned version of dearest Ash with the same self-absorbed attitude and smouldering appeal. His hair was as black as the night, styled up in a thick, smooth and flattering style, his moustache was thin and still growing, and the beard at his chin was but stubble needing watered. Yet for all his show of confidence and contempt for the family games I could smell a whiff of desperation on him mixed with that same longing for power that seemed typical amongst these people. "Oh I take you seriously," I insisted with an assuring nod, "and I will help you win the prize in the bloody arena." I upped the charm, choosing seduction over force, I would yet prove my ability to lure men, it was only Isaac who did not want me, but he was a Toreador, they were fickle and changed their desires with the seasons. "You are the most cunning here," I insisted, "I can tell, the rest lose their heads to the hearty queen in the battle, but you know better. Keep your secrets close and play the game."

"Well you can't tell anyone anything because they might use it against you and yet, it's hard not to learn things, oh yes it's amoral to be so ruthless against one's family but the businessman in me tells me to smear them into the ground," he said with just a flair of passion to his voice.

"And so you should," I agreed, "for they would do the same to you. You will be the victor," I insisted, "you have the wit, the charm and the looks." I saw him hesitate for just a moment, almost resisting me but I was not human and he had no choice but to bow to my will. Want me, need me, lust for me and lick my thighs, it's inappropriate to tumble with wild men in the hay but getting our bare skin groped is most fun.

"Well, I suppose you have a point," he mused. "I'm Christopher by the way."

"Ariadne," I gave him one of my names, the name I wanted him to call me, to scream in ecstasy and then in pain and finally in horror. He reminded me too much of Ash, handsome or not, it made him insufferable and once I was done showing the women in the room that the handsome man wanted the freak then I would have his blood and his life. Christopher could no more win his desires than whiny dead phoenix.

"That's a nice name," he said.

"It was a gift," I confessed, "from my friend."

He gave a small chortle as I urged him to find me funny, pretty and completely desirable. Ah but I had not the skills of the Toreadors when it came to charm, just the forceful sugary words that many Kindred could learn with time and practice, save the ugly Nosferatu who I was finding more in common with now. Was I really so wretched and abhorrent? Did Isaac consider me as loathsome as them now? Would he care if I allied with Sebastian? He would deserve it. "Am I pretty Christopher?" I pondered.

"Er..." I glowered at him then and lost my poise in my anger at his vacillation.

"See true ugliness and know the difference!" I snarled. I hurried off before the screams of horror began and a connection could be made to me.

"My arms!" Christopher shrieked. "My flesh is rotting! And the floor, oh God there are guts all over it!"

As the guards headed towards him and the other party goers murmured about a spiked drink, drug abuse and, of course, delight over another competitor losing their chance, I found myself being looked at by another female. Younger with a friendlier smile than Mira, she regarded me curiously with smoky eyes, lacking the expected hostility. "I don't think we've met before," she remarked as she took a step towards me, "I'm Nadia Milliner."

She wore a flattering silvery white dress, low cut with shoulder straps it went down to her ankles and was unadorned. Her skin was smooth and tanned like many of her relations, her looks more homely than Mira's and yet still attractive, it set my fangs on edge. "My card says I'm Maria," I murmured.

She giggled. "Ah someone with a sense of humour, how refreshing! Everyone's so serious here, all this interest in the grand family secret."

"Ah yes, the promise of the Holy Goblet or is it the Grail of Fire?" I pondered. "Hmm other way round maybe, or perhaps it's cookies!"

Nadia giggled again. "I'm working on my Master's out here-The Giovannis have been nice enough to let me stay here while I finish up my studies," she explained. "And I've learned a great deal from them- like you wouldn't believe. That secret everyone's waiting for, well I bet it's connected to what I've learned."

"Ah well crack like an egg and show me your runny yolk," I urged her. "Let me learn the Giovanni's mysteries and the lairs of their hidden dead."

Ensnared she nodded eagerly and commanded me to follow her. She turned and led the way out of the room, showing me her perfect back torso, unblemished and without scars unlike mine, making me hate her as much as Christopher, Mira and her other perfect family members. They were all shallow, vain and beautified, Toreadors in the making they were surely wasted on their own incestuous clan. Nadia led me down a corridor and into a library; she paused and looked back at me warily, reconsidering her choice to show me her newfound knowledge. I was too fed up with her family to play nice, "show me the Giovanni secrets," I snarled at her, "or I will pluck your eyes and crush them beneath my heels."

She trembled and I could not help but take some joy out of the pee that soaked her right leg. I was still a powerful Kindred to be feared, I could still do mind tricks, I was still useful, still beautiful and crafty, I would give Sebastian the ancient blood he wanted and make the Baron rue the day he abandoned me. Let all the pretty vainpires regret scorning me for the deformities I had earned out of loyalty to them! I felt the tears prick my eyes once more and my right eye stung as the pus irritated it. For all my wicked thoughts I did not think I could ever truly see them suffer, certainly not sweet Isaac or brazen Kent, not even sharp tongued Ash or scornful V.V, once my family, now perhaps my enemies if I joined with the only one who did not openly scorn me, the treacherous, snake tongued Prince. What a wicked fate, better to be alone but I abhorred loneliness, no never alone, had the voices, the screams on the web, and ever suffering and insufferable Sarah, and the whispers and the jabbers, yes plenty to hear, and plenty to see, there were the nymphs, the elves and the dwarves after all. Ah but it was too much, too many at once, it got so confusing, I needed my Baron to soothe them, to make order in the madness.

Nadia hunted amongst the bookshelves rapidly, grabbing at books desperately and tossing them carelessly to the floor before she found the trick one and a shelf parted to grant us entry to a secret path. She hurried on, escaping the unknown danger for the more familiar one. I followed, scenting an air full of all sorts of rot and death, the moaning dead Romero knew so well and something else, not quite hidden beneath the Giovanni's puppets. We walked down into a room like an operating room from a cheap horror movie. Nadia turned to me, the memory of my horror suppressed as she tried to grab back some semblance of sanity for herself. She summoned up a calmness and said, "it is pretty disturbing down here, but you have heard the rumours about the family, haven't you? This is an embalming room. Know what they do with the corpses?"

So this one was into what exactly? Corpse watching? Corpse spying? Corpse... Hmm best left unsaid, and I was the mad one here? "Send them to do the grocery shopping?" I ventured a guess.

"I'll show you." Nadia pulled a rusted lever and granted us entry to another secret passage. Further down, closer to the secret, to the theft, to the foolish venture. Ah what have they done? I clutched my head and moaned as suddenly my entire skull seemed to quiver and burn. Put it back! Put it back! Not what it seems! Nothing ever is! It will burn us! It will start the end! Smell it, hear it, feel that power. Ah they are real! I shook my head angrily and banished the squeals on the web before continuing down to a hallway of shambling corpses.

"Don't worry," Nadia said with an ill-suited calm, "they won't bother with you, just stay still."

"Fuck this." I turned from her and swiftly headed back up the way I had come. I had not come to get splattered with corpse brains, and groped by undead arms. There had to be a way to the stolen tomb that did not involve zombies. Although, it was a good idea to have zombies guarding the coffin, so most likely there was no other path and I had so wanted to play with them in Romero's graveyard but sadly been forbidden. I wavered as I reached the embalming room but before I could make a decision I heard a voice demand, "who are you?"

I looked up to see an armed man somewhere in his forties, pale skinned, dark haired, handsome and dressed in a custom made suit, I knew he was most definitely a Kindred, as were his four guards who were also armed. I wondered if the dead could be overkilled. "A second cousin of a third aunt," I explained cheerfully, "Maria Giovanni."

He frowned at me and folded his arms. "Oh really? I was certain I knew all the Kindred in my territory of the Clan given I have sired most of them."

"Well there are so many of us," I retorted helpfully, "it's hard to keep track I'm sure."

"Not when I take such care over who I choose to gift the Kiss to," he retorted coldly. "You are no member of this clan. Who are you and why are you here?"

Think minds, all of you get to work! A friend of a relative? A lost tourist? Um... "I'm Christopher's new girlfriend," I lied, "but he doesn't know I'm Kindred, we are the Romero and Juliet of the horror romance, I am doomed to the night and he to the day."

"Christopher's girlfriend," he stated dryly. "Is that the best you can come up with? Who are you working for is probably the best question to ask."

"I am a self serving agent, but truly Christopher and I, tis a love most misunderstood."

He snapped his pallid fingers and his four guards stepped towards me. "I suspect your presence here is not so innocent," he said, "and if you won't explain willingly, well I'm sure my men can persuade you."

"Ah well depends on their methods," I mused as my gaze flickered between, alas my right eye was clogged with pus and my vision obscured. I was thirsty too, it had been too long since I had last drunk, I needed blood.

"I'm not above torture."

"It's never rainbows and unicorns is it?" I responded woefully.

He reeked of power and leaked of prospect, the Giovanni were as sneaky and cunning as the Ventrue, waiting to strike at the next opportunity. They were dangerous; I understood that, untrustworthy, untrusting and cutthroat, yes they would hurt me for answers, in a different fashion to the Tzimisce but most likely just as painful. "You must be the Giovanni head," I guessed.

"One of them," he admitted curtly. "Bruno Giovanni."

"Ah yes," I murmured, "cunning Bruno, ever wary too, didn't get to the top by playing nice and ignorant. Well I am doomed then if it's you, with your intelligence and grand observation skills you surely already know who I am and my purpose."

He looked at me with cold and merciless brown eyes, perhaps guessing my trick but perhaps not, maybe pride was a weakness he shared with so many Toreadors. He folded his arms and gave me a carefully guarded look. "Perhaps I do," he mused, "but I'm curious to hear your version of things."

"I am no storyteller," I lamented, "the details would only bore you and I'm sure you know them well anyway." I was bartering for time but to what end I could not guess. 'It's waking,' a voice hissed, masculine, fearful and hopeful, 'it hears you, it feels us. Tremble now, it's coming.' "What does the Italian master have hidden beneath the wandering dead?"

A frown appeared on his handsome, aged features, like Isaac he had not been turned young and yet he was smooth skinned, dark haired and bright eyed, alert and strong. "So you want my treasure," he murmured, "as I suspected. Well we weren't as subtle taking it from Greece as I would have liked but it is ours now and no interfering, blood lusting Kindred will take it."

"You are the blood luster," I reminded him, "the traitors in the night, you Clan's trademark will soon be diablerizing."

He looked at me with an icy indifference. "We all survive how we must, our world is treacherous, each of us for themselves and those of us who want power, well we must be expected to take risks and make sacrifices."

"You've gone too far," I realised, "the box is dangerous, you couldn't open it but now the box is burning! You will not have its blood, should have left it buried in Greece, oh it's hungry." I grinned just as all Hell broke loose.