Saturday, 1 November 1800, 2:35 a.m.
The library/sitting room.
Carleigh glanced at the large grandfather clock standing in the corner. Her brow wrinkled in annoyance. She hadn't expected everyone to be perfectly prompt, but this was ridiculous! She had been waiting here for over two hours!
She glanced around the room, making a quick mental list of who was already there and who was missing. At least everyone was in the same room now.
Carid, the Tzimisce, was sitting in one corner of the room with her pointed nose stuck in a book. She hadn't said a word or even moved, except to turn pages, since the others had come filtering in. She hadn't even looked up when Amy finally came inside.
Speaking of the Tremere, what in the world had she been doing out there for so long? Carleigh had already been long done writing her assessment of Amy when the girl finally came into the sitting room. Were stars really all that fascinating to the sorcerer clan? In any case, Amy had brought a book of her own in that black bag of hers and was currently reading in a armchair to Carleigh's left. Incidentally, they were both as far away from Carid's corner as possible without hiding in a corner themselves.
Across from them was a long sofa currently occupied by the Toreador and Nosferatu. They seemed to have hit it off, which was a great surprise to Carleigh. She had expected the Toreador to avoid someone so...lacking in physical beauty. But no, the two had been talking quietly-probably so as not to disturb Carid or Amy- ever since they had come in. They both seemed quite friendly. Which was more than Carleigh would say for the person they carted in with them.
The Gangrel--who after a few moments of being bothered had divulged that her name was Michaela Greywauld--was standing by the window in the corner looking uncomfortable. Apparently she--and it had taken Carleigh a few moments to decipher the gender of the new arrival-had tried to sneak in the back door, which incidentally led straight into the kitchen. Whereupon Ben and Seldes had caught her dragged her in here with them. She looked less than happy to be in a room full of people.
Carleigh stole a glance at the Ravnos who had wandered in a few minutes ago. Sugar Kelly was wearing a peasant style top and a patchwork skirt that dragged on the floor. She didn't look much like the gypsies Carleigh had seen before, what with her blonde hair and blue eyes. But then, you never knew with that clan. She hadn't talked much either; she'd been staring at the painting on the wall ever since she came in. Heaven knew what she found so interesting about a desert landscape.
And heaven also knew how she managed to remain so.... unaware of the eyes burning holes through her back. Courtney Hamilton, Clan Lasombra, was sitting on the other side of the room doing nothing but glare at Sugar's back. Carleigh certainly would have liked to know the story behind that.
Next to Courtney's chair was a small loveseat. Currently it's only occupant was Maria Giovanni. She and the Cappadocian representative had been traveling together (another shock to Carleigh's system), and apparently had picked Courtney up along the way. Something had happened to the Lasombra's carriage, it seemed.
Carleigh glanced around the room in search of the small Cappadocian. Mei was standing by the huge bookshelves, examining the titles. In Carleigh's opinion, the little girl was venturing far too close to the silent Tzimisce. Mei had been a surprise. All the representatives so far seemed to have been Embraced in their late teens or early twenties, but Mei had said she was only ten or eleven at the time of her Embrace. She was a cute little thing, but she didn't seem too bright. At least that was the impression Carleigh got.
The Ventrue laid her notebook down on her lap and sighed heavily.
"Well, let's see now." she said to the assembly in general, managing to get most of the eyes in the room turned to her. "Who are we still missing..." she looked around, as if this were the first time she had thought of this. "We're missing Brujah....Setite....Assamite...."
"No way!" Sugar interrupted. "The ASSAMITES sent someone?!" she exclaimed incredulously.
"Yes." Carleigh said as icily as she could manage. She didn't like to be interrupted.
Unfortunately, her efforts were lost on the Ravnos. "Whoa....that's gonna be interesting...." she muttered, before turning her attention back to the painting.
"Well then...." Carleigh said stiffly. "The only other is Malkavian."
Carleigh felt her skirt rustle a little. It felt almost like a cat brushing up against her. She glanced down. No cat. She looked back up. Then felt it again. She looked down one more time.
Her gaze moved down to her knees...her skirt...the face between her feet....her feet....
Wait....face between her feet?
Carleigh looked back between her black high heels. Her brain didn't seem to be effectively processing the image of a head sticking out from under her skirt and lying neatly between the shoes. That is, not until....
"Hi." the face said.
Carleigh's scream rattled the windows.
The entire room collectively looked up abruptly and dropped anything they had been holding. And in the Gangrel's case, jumped on top of the grandfather clock and bristled like a scared cat.
Carleigh jumped up and ran to the other side of the room in a panic, not even caring that Carid had stood up and actually moved forward.
The Tzimisce stared at the scene for a moment. Then burst out laughing.
"I-Is this FUNNY to you?!" an affronted and terrified Carleigh exclaimed.
Carid grinned another one of those freakish pointed teeth smiles. "I guess the Malk's not missing after all."
Meanwhile, the head-which actually was attached to a body- slid out from under the chair and jumped to her feet, spinning in midair to face Carleigh.
"Hi! I'm Alectz! Did I scare you?!"
No one answered.
Alectz looked around the room, a maniacal grin on her face. Finally, her gaze lighted upon Michaela, who was still perched on top of the clock with her fur standing on end.
"Hey.....you're really furry."
Sugar, witnessing this from the other side of the room, surpressed a giggle. It was true enough. The Gangrel was female, according to her name, but she wore only a pair of ripped, worn out pants. Which was really no problem, since her entire upper body-and most of her lower body, from what they could see of her legs- was covered in grayish fur, leaving only her forearms, neck, and face virtually hairless. Oddly enough, though, her hair was brown. And short. You never expected Gangrel to have short hair.
The Malkavain had only voiced what everyone in the room thought the minute they saw Michaela.
From her crouch on top of the clock, the Gangrel glared at Alectz. Then, in a movement no one really saw too well, she pounced off the clock and landed by the door to the room.
Mika swung the door open and made to get out of there. She really didn't need this. First cramming everyone into that claustrophobic little room and now loud noises? It was not to be borne. She stepped out in the front hall and almost collided with a figure in white.
Both of them stepped back and out of each others' way, not saying a word. Mika spent about two seconds sizing the person up. Female, dark hair and skin, curved sword at waist, probable hidden weapons, difficulty to kill: medium to difficult. That pretty much covered all she ever needed to know about someone. Still, it was a welcome change from the others she had met. Difficulty to kill: minimum to none. Except for maybe the Tzimisce.
Two yards away, Sharma was doing the exact same thing. Gender unknown, obviously Gangrel, no weapons, great physical strength, watch for claws. Do not attempt to challenge this one at close range.
"Assamite, I presume?" Carleigh's voice broke through the tense silence.
Sharma didn't react. She kept her eyes on the Gangrel.
"Excuse me?" Carleigh stepped forward.
Mika opted not to challenge the Assamite. There would be plenty of time to test her skills--and Michaela's own--later on. She lowered her hands and stepped back a pace.
Sharma saw the Gangrel stand down. Not retreat, just assume a non-threatening position. This one would be a pleasure to challenge at a later date. But for the moment she had best deal with this irritating blonde.
Carleigh was becoming seriously annoyed. Finally, the Assamite looked at her.
"Thank you." she muttered. Then aloud, "I am Carleigh Pederston, Clan Ventrue. And you are?"
Sharma tensed almost indistinguishably--she hoped.
"Well?" Carleigh sighed. She was getting a bit tired of these strong, silent types.
"Sharma Hassam. Clan Assamite." Sharma said gruffly.
"See, that wasn't so hard...." Carleigh murmured under her breath.
"Can I play with your sword?"
Sharma spun around, scimitar suddenly out. And pointed at the neck of the Malkavian.
Alectz poked the tip of the sword, not hard enough to draw blood. She grinned at the Assamite. The girl had a scowl as hard as steel, but Alectz could always tell when she was confusing someone.
"Eh...don't mind her, she's a Malkavian." Carleigh said in an attempt to calm the situation.
Sharma snorted. As if she couldn't identify a kook when she saw one. Self-important Ventrue scum. And 'Pederston' sounded British, too. Just her luck.
"Now...if we could all just come into the sitting room and wait for the last two..." Carleigh was cut off by the front door opening.
"......so yeah, then there was this wrecked carriage in the middle of the road, so my carriage couldn't get around it really well. Gosh, I wonder who left it there? There was a dead ghoul in there, too. And I don't mean a newly Embraced one by that....."
The source of the annoyed babble was a rather short girl with a longish brown ponytail. She seemed to be aiming her rant at a tall boy with shoulder length black hair who didn't look too happy to be there.
Carleigh cleared her throat. The boy didn't react, but the girl looked up.
"Hey! Who left the damned broken carriage in the road? My horse almost twisted his ankle trying to avoid that mess."
"Tell me about it." Sugar piped up from the doorway to the sitting room. "It's so RUDE how people just leave stuff in the road."
"No kidding." the new girl agreed.
Carleigh thought she could hear a low growl from somewhere in the sitting room.....but she ignored that for the moment.
"Welcome. I am Carleigh Pederston, Clan Ventrue." she said, introducing herself for what seemed like the millionth time.
"Catherine D'Armise, Clan Brujah. Call me Cathy."
"Very well." Carleigh nodded. "And I assume you are of the Setites?" she turned to the boy.
"I am called Sobek." the boy said simply, refusing to make eye contact. Not that that was unusual among older Kindred.
"Well then, it seems we are all assembled." Carleigh eyed the newcomers.
"Shall we go sit down? I should like to properly explain our objectives here before sunrise."