Saturday, 1 November 1800, 12:30 a.m.
outside the house
"Wow...." Benjamin murmured, gazing out the window of his carriage. "Well, it's a lovely building, but a bit too neo-classical for my tastes."
"Perhaps you'll be able to do something with it, sir." Bradford said from the other side of the carriage.
"Oh, come on Bradford. We're not in the presence of any elders. You can call me Ben."
"Well, here we are." Nigel, the other ghoul accompanying Ben, announced.
Ben sighed heavily, eyes focused on his hands even as the driver came around to open the door.
"Ben?" Bradford leaned forward. "Is everything okay?"
Ben sighed. "I-I guess I'm just nervous. I mean, this is supposed to be a coalition to fight the Society of Leopold and stuff like that."
"Yes?"
"So...why send me? I'm not that much of a fighter...."
"That's only one part of it, Benny." Nigel said, placing a reassuring hand on the Toreador's shoulder. "It's also for spying, infiltration, research...and even though they didn't say it at the council, inter-clan politics as well. Nobody expects you to turn into a Brujah for this."
Ben shuddered at the suggestion. "I know that...but still. I bet you anything a lot of them are gonna be warriors." Ben slid out of the carriage, followed by his two companions.
"Be that as it may." Bradford crossed his arms. "You were chosen by the entire clan, Ben. Obviously, your talents were exactly what they were looking for in the representative of the Clan Toreador." the ghoul smiled at Ben's still apprehensive expression. "In short, they believe in you, Benny. And so do we."
Ben felt tears well up in his eyes. He threw his arms around Bradford's waist and hugged him as tightly as he could. The ghoul hugged him back.
After a few seconds, Ben let go and stood back. He cleared his throat, trying to get around the forming lump in it. "Um....Brad...Nigel?"
"Yes?" Nigel answered, as they both turned their attention to Ben.
"Um....listen...I just wanted to say, well....You guys have both been so great to me...I swear I never could've made it through the past three decades without you. I know I'm not too good at taking care of myself sometimes, and you guys have been so wonderful about taking care of me...you never complain about me being useless like some of the other ghouls do. You guys....you're the only ones who ever really understood me. And I'm really gonna miss you." Ben wiped away some of the tears that had welled up in his eyes as he'd been talking.
"Aw, Ben....you've been great too." Bradford smiled, a lump in his own throat. "Lots of vamps your age treat us like property. Not you. And you don't have to worry about this assignment at all. I know everyone's gonna love you just as much as we do."
Nigel couldn't think of anything to say, so he just hugged Ben. Brad joined and made it a big, two-minute long, group hug.
"This is so sweet my fangs are rotting....." Mika Greywauld muttered from behind a nearby tree. She was waiting for the Torrie to finish saying goodbye to his ghouls so she could sneak around the back.
"I'll see you guys again, I promise." Ben choked as his ghouls got back in the carriage.
"Of course you will." Nigel smiled. "You think you can get rid of us this easily?
"No." Ben giggled a little. "Goodbye!" he called, waving as the carriage pulled away.
He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the tears of blood off his face and hands. It wouldn't do to go in there crying.
Bradford was right. He would just think of this as an opportunity to make some new friends. Most Toreadors refused to associate with any other clan but the Ventrue on the grounds that it was beneath them, but Ben didn't feel that way at all. There was nothing wrong with the other clans. They just thought differently, and in some cases, looked differently. No big deal. There was beauty in everything. There was even beauty in the Nosferatu, if you just knew where to look.
"Hi!"
Ben jumped about three feet in the air. He spun around to face-ironically enough- a Nosferatu.
"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"Oh...that's okay....just a little jumpy tonight, I guess." Ben picked up the box of paintbrushes he had dropped. Luckily, it hadn't opened.
"Wow, that's a lot of stuff....." the Nosferatu eyed the large pile of luggage behind Ben.
"Yeah...I guess I should've let my ghouls take it in....but I might've lost too much blood if that goodbye had lasted any longer." Ben smiled sadly. He mentally reprimanded himself for freaking out when the Nosferatu had spoken. This guy seemed really nice; Ben didn't want him to think he was a superficial about the whole ugliness curse as most of the Toreador were.
"My name's Seldes, by the way." the Nosferatu extended a talon-like hand.
"I'm Ben. Nice to meet you." Ben smiled, taking Seldes' hand with no hesitation whatsoever.
Seldes was an interesting looking Nosferatu. Of course, none of them really looked normal. He seemed to be about three feet tall. Of course, he might've been much taller. Ben had no way of knowing, since the Nosferatu was apparently crouched on the ground, his knees at his chin. But that odd position seemed to be the way he stood. It looked uncomfortable, but then Ben was speaking from the perspective of someone with a straight spine. The crouch didn't impede Seldes extending his hand at all; his arms were considerably longer than they should've been. Ben could almost picture him walking like a gorilla, using his hands to propel him on the ground.
"Do you need any help?" Seldes asked as Ben tried to collect all his bags and his easel at once.
"Oh, no, not if it's too much trouble." Ben said, unable to imagine the other being able to carry anything the size of the bags.
"It's no trouble." Seldes assured him, and, to Ben's surprise, stood up.
At full height he was about Ben's height, and his arms looked even more out of proportion. The Nosferatu winced a little as he straightened, and Ben himself winced at the sound of Seldes' spine cracking.
"Ow. Are you okay?" Ben asked, concerned.
Seldes rolled his shoulders as if getting used to the position. "I'm fine. Don't worry, I do this all the time."
"Um...okay....thank you." Ben said as Seldes helped him pick up his stuff.
They carried the stuff as far as the foot of the stairs in the front hall. They decided to deposit Ben's stuff there, along with Seldes' one bag, and worry about getting it all upstairs after they got their room assignments. Then they found the kitchen. And the icebox full of blood decanters.
"I didn't know there was type V blood." Ben remarked, looking over the selection.
"Um..I don't think that stands for blood type." Seldes commented, looking up from beneath Ben's arm.
"Well, there's A right there...." Ben pointed at a higher shelf.
"Actually, I think they're marked for the people with feeding restrictions. V for Ventrue."
"And A for Assamite. Okay, I see." Ben nodded. "Then what are the rest of these?"
"I don't know. Let's find out."
Ben and Seldes each grabbed a container of unmarked blood and sat down at the kitchen table. They sat, drinking in silence for a few minutes.
Ben set his bottle down on the table. "Seldes?"
"Hm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"What do you think about all this?"
"About what?"
"You know....this." Ben gestured around him. "All the clans trying to work together like this. After centuries of the Jyhad, do you think a bunch of Kindred from so many different clans can all just get along?"
Seldes reached past his knees-he was back in his crouched position on the chair-and placed his own bottle on the table. "Do I think all the clans can just get along? No. Do I think members of the clans can all get along? Yes."
Ben stared in confusion. "But...isn't it the same thing?"
"Not at all. A clan as you're talking about it is a political unit. Political units have separate goals, separate functions, separate broad agendas. An injury done by one member of one clan to one member of another clan must be forever remembered by both the clans." Seldes sighed. "If you think of someone in terms of 'clan', you place on them every wrong ever done by any member of their clan. Look at the Tremere and the Tzimisce. Nearly a millennium ago, Tremere diablerized a Tzimisce Methuselah in order to gain immortality. Tremere is dead. The Methuselah is dead. But their descendants carry on the blood feud even today. Most Tremere have never been injured in any way by a Tzimisce and never had anyone they know injured by Tzimisce either. But they still hate Tzimisce just because they're Tzimisce.'
"But..." Ben paused. "Isn't that right? Tremere stole immortality...naturally the whole clan is going to feel affronted."
"Ben, it would be like a Gangrel killing you because some other Toreador had run over her foot ten years ago on the other side of the planet." That put it in better perspective for Benjamin. "The clans can't let go. That's why the CLANS could never get along. But the people? Now that's a whole other matter."
"How so?"
"If you look at someone as a person, not as a clan, then you have a whole different perspective. I mean, there are so many stereotypes attached to clans. Toreadors, for example. I might expect you to be a useless, whiny, pathetic yet artistic piece of fluff. I also might choose to dislike you right off the bat, because I've had numerous experiences of Toreadors avoiding me and scoffing at me simply because I was ugly. But you didn't do that, did you?"
Ben shook his head.
"Exactly. Because you aren't those other Toreadors. You aren't like them. But I never would have known that if I hadn't given you the chance to show it. That's what happens when you attach clan stereotypes to someone. You never find out what they're really like because you're too busy thinking about what you expect them to be like."
"I think I see what you mean....that's why you said we could get along. As individuals, not clans, you mean?"
Seldes nodded. "Personally, I think if we all approach each other as people, with no pre-expectations, then we can all get along just fine."
Ben smiled. "That's kind of what I think....you can't define a person by their clan or their nationality. Everybody's different, and everybody's beautiful, in one way or another."
Seldes grinned, revealing a mouth full of fangs. "I like that. A very artistic point of view."
"Of course!" Ben grinned back.
outside the house
"Wow...." Benjamin murmured, gazing out the window of his carriage. "Well, it's a lovely building, but a bit too neo-classical for my tastes."
"Perhaps you'll be able to do something with it, sir." Bradford said from the other side of the carriage.
"Oh, come on Bradford. We're not in the presence of any elders. You can call me Ben."
"Well, here we are." Nigel, the other ghoul accompanying Ben, announced.
Ben sighed heavily, eyes focused on his hands even as the driver came around to open the door.
"Ben?" Bradford leaned forward. "Is everything okay?"
Ben sighed. "I-I guess I'm just nervous. I mean, this is supposed to be a coalition to fight the Society of Leopold and stuff like that."
"Yes?"
"So...why send me? I'm not that much of a fighter...."
"That's only one part of it, Benny." Nigel said, placing a reassuring hand on the Toreador's shoulder. "It's also for spying, infiltration, research...and even though they didn't say it at the council, inter-clan politics as well. Nobody expects you to turn into a Brujah for this."
Ben shuddered at the suggestion. "I know that...but still. I bet you anything a lot of them are gonna be warriors." Ben slid out of the carriage, followed by his two companions.
"Be that as it may." Bradford crossed his arms. "You were chosen by the entire clan, Ben. Obviously, your talents were exactly what they were looking for in the representative of the Clan Toreador." the ghoul smiled at Ben's still apprehensive expression. "In short, they believe in you, Benny. And so do we."
Ben felt tears well up in his eyes. He threw his arms around Bradford's waist and hugged him as tightly as he could. The ghoul hugged him back.
After a few seconds, Ben let go and stood back. He cleared his throat, trying to get around the forming lump in it. "Um....Brad...Nigel?"
"Yes?" Nigel answered, as they both turned their attention to Ben.
"Um....listen...I just wanted to say, well....You guys have both been so great to me...I swear I never could've made it through the past three decades without you. I know I'm not too good at taking care of myself sometimes, and you guys have been so wonderful about taking care of me...you never complain about me being useless like some of the other ghouls do. You guys....you're the only ones who ever really understood me. And I'm really gonna miss you." Ben wiped away some of the tears that had welled up in his eyes as he'd been talking.
"Aw, Ben....you've been great too." Bradford smiled, a lump in his own throat. "Lots of vamps your age treat us like property. Not you. And you don't have to worry about this assignment at all. I know everyone's gonna love you just as much as we do."
Nigel couldn't think of anything to say, so he just hugged Ben. Brad joined and made it a big, two-minute long, group hug.
"This is so sweet my fangs are rotting....." Mika Greywauld muttered from behind a nearby tree. She was waiting for the Torrie to finish saying goodbye to his ghouls so she could sneak around the back.
"I'll see you guys again, I promise." Ben choked as his ghouls got back in the carriage.
"Of course you will." Nigel smiled. "You think you can get rid of us this easily?
"No." Ben giggled a little. "Goodbye!" he called, waving as the carriage pulled away.
He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the tears of blood off his face and hands. It wouldn't do to go in there crying.
Bradford was right. He would just think of this as an opportunity to make some new friends. Most Toreadors refused to associate with any other clan but the Ventrue on the grounds that it was beneath them, but Ben didn't feel that way at all. There was nothing wrong with the other clans. They just thought differently, and in some cases, looked differently. No big deal. There was beauty in everything. There was even beauty in the Nosferatu, if you just knew where to look.
"Hi!"
Ben jumped about three feet in the air. He spun around to face-ironically enough- a Nosferatu.
"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"Oh...that's okay....just a little jumpy tonight, I guess." Ben picked up the box of paintbrushes he had dropped. Luckily, it hadn't opened.
"Wow, that's a lot of stuff....." the Nosferatu eyed the large pile of luggage behind Ben.
"Yeah...I guess I should've let my ghouls take it in....but I might've lost too much blood if that goodbye had lasted any longer." Ben smiled sadly. He mentally reprimanded himself for freaking out when the Nosferatu had spoken. This guy seemed really nice; Ben didn't want him to think he was a superficial about the whole ugliness curse as most of the Toreador were.
"My name's Seldes, by the way." the Nosferatu extended a talon-like hand.
"I'm Ben. Nice to meet you." Ben smiled, taking Seldes' hand with no hesitation whatsoever.
Seldes was an interesting looking Nosferatu. Of course, none of them really looked normal. He seemed to be about three feet tall. Of course, he might've been much taller. Ben had no way of knowing, since the Nosferatu was apparently crouched on the ground, his knees at his chin. But that odd position seemed to be the way he stood. It looked uncomfortable, but then Ben was speaking from the perspective of someone with a straight spine. The crouch didn't impede Seldes extending his hand at all; his arms were considerably longer than they should've been. Ben could almost picture him walking like a gorilla, using his hands to propel him on the ground.
"Do you need any help?" Seldes asked as Ben tried to collect all his bags and his easel at once.
"Oh, no, not if it's too much trouble." Ben said, unable to imagine the other being able to carry anything the size of the bags.
"It's no trouble." Seldes assured him, and, to Ben's surprise, stood up.
At full height he was about Ben's height, and his arms looked even more out of proportion. The Nosferatu winced a little as he straightened, and Ben himself winced at the sound of Seldes' spine cracking.
"Ow. Are you okay?" Ben asked, concerned.
Seldes rolled his shoulders as if getting used to the position. "I'm fine. Don't worry, I do this all the time."
"Um...okay....thank you." Ben said as Seldes helped him pick up his stuff.
They carried the stuff as far as the foot of the stairs in the front hall. They decided to deposit Ben's stuff there, along with Seldes' one bag, and worry about getting it all upstairs after they got their room assignments. Then they found the kitchen. And the icebox full of blood decanters.
"I didn't know there was type V blood." Ben remarked, looking over the selection.
"Um..I don't think that stands for blood type." Seldes commented, looking up from beneath Ben's arm.
"Well, there's A right there...." Ben pointed at a higher shelf.
"Actually, I think they're marked for the people with feeding restrictions. V for Ventrue."
"And A for Assamite. Okay, I see." Ben nodded. "Then what are the rest of these?"
"I don't know. Let's find out."
Ben and Seldes each grabbed a container of unmarked blood and sat down at the kitchen table. They sat, drinking in silence for a few minutes.
Ben set his bottle down on the table. "Seldes?"
"Hm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"What do you think about all this?"
"About what?"
"You know....this." Ben gestured around him. "All the clans trying to work together like this. After centuries of the Jyhad, do you think a bunch of Kindred from so many different clans can all just get along?"
Seldes reached past his knees-he was back in his crouched position on the chair-and placed his own bottle on the table. "Do I think all the clans can just get along? No. Do I think members of the clans can all get along? Yes."
Ben stared in confusion. "But...isn't it the same thing?"
"Not at all. A clan as you're talking about it is a political unit. Political units have separate goals, separate functions, separate broad agendas. An injury done by one member of one clan to one member of another clan must be forever remembered by both the clans." Seldes sighed. "If you think of someone in terms of 'clan', you place on them every wrong ever done by any member of their clan. Look at the Tremere and the Tzimisce. Nearly a millennium ago, Tremere diablerized a Tzimisce Methuselah in order to gain immortality. Tremere is dead. The Methuselah is dead. But their descendants carry on the blood feud even today. Most Tremere have never been injured in any way by a Tzimisce and never had anyone they know injured by Tzimisce either. But they still hate Tzimisce just because they're Tzimisce.'
"But..." Ben paused. "Isn't that right? Tremere stole immortality...naturally the whole clan is going to feel affronted."
"Ben, it would be like a Gangrel killing you because some other Toreador had run over her foot ten years ago on the other side of the planet." That put it in better perspective for Benjamin. "The clans can't let go. That's why the CLANS could never get along. But the people? Now that's a whole other matter."
"How so?"
"If you look at someone as a person, not as a clan, then you have a whole different perspective. I mean, there are so many stereotypes attached to clans. Toreadors, for example. I might expect you to be a useless, whiny, pathetic yet artistic piece of fluff. I also might choose to dislike you right off the bat, because I've had numerous experiences of Toreadors avoiding me and scoffing at me simply because I was ugly. But you didn't do that, did you?"
Ben shook his head.
"Exactly. Because you aren't those other Toreadors. You aren't like them. But I never would have known that if I hadn't given you the chance to show it. That's what happens when you attach clan stereotypes to someone. You never find out what they're really like because you're too busy thinking about what you expect them to be like."
"I think I see what you mean....that's why you said we could get along. As individuals, not clans, you mean?"
Seldes nodded. "Personally, I think if we all approach each other as people, with no pre-expectations, then we can all get along just fine."
Ben smiled. "That's kind of what I think....you can't define a person by their clan or their nationality. Everybody's different, and everybody's beautiful, in one way or another."
Seldes grinned, revealing a mouth full of fangs. "I like that. A very artistic point of view."
"Of course!" Ben grinned back.