The two men walk silently up to the gallery's second floor and into a room that was close enough to the stairs if their presence was required, but far enough from the chattering Kindred to grant them the privacy this conversation would need.

"I thought we decided that our Childe would not be told of the meeting tonight."

The younger Toreador rolls his eyes behind unnecessary lenses as he shuts the door to what seems to be an office. "It would be one thing if either one of us had actually sired Andrasta, but we just became her Patrons by twisting the Traditions to serve our purposes, much like Sophie Langley did to try and save Lamar a few years later. Unlike Ms. Langley, however, we've done right in how we raised our girl."

"You told her about the meeting." It wasn't a question and both men knew it, nor was Arturo going to lie. When he nods in answer, Qadir barely bites back the growl that threatens to come out. "You could undo all we've done- all she's accomplished. For what purpose?"

"That part of her story needs some form of an ending, Sheriff. If it is not written by her hand it will have closure by someone who does not have it end happily for all players involved." Thomas moves over to the window, looking out at the rainy Queens sky and sighs, and, after removing his glasses, pinches the bridge of his nose. "I have gotten word from some of my associates and had it confirmed with the Nosferatu- the Red King with his iron crown has returned to Los Angeles and is looking to finish what he started all those years ago."

This caught the tall man's attention, his expression turning thoughtful at the idea of the Tremere bloodmage coming to New York. "I suppose it was too much to hope that he would be required to stay in Austria after that Second Inquisition incident and the resulting business was dealt with, with all the positions that needed to be filled."

The Harpy hums in agreement, adding "From what I was able to glean, he was promoted to Lord, overseeing the states on the West Coast, but choosing to make Los Angeles his main Chantry. After he settles into his new position and realizes none of his prey is no longer within his sphere of influence, his gaze will move eastward until he finds Andrasta. You know as well as I that she will not leave New York, not to run from him, not anymore… Perhaps we raised our little one too well- causing her to lose all sense of vampiric self-preservation."

"And yet you allow her to deal with the lion's den whenever she feels like it- how do you know the High Regent will not bow to her superior in the Pyramid?"

"You know her story."

"And Andrasta isn't denying a mortal like Aleister Crowley. You know how strict the Tremere are, and you are more than aware that Sturbridge is not always approved of by her superiors. They might hold her position over her head if they feel her loyalty is not completely to them."

A wry smirk crosses the younger vampire's face as he turns to look at the Sheriff, saying "It is Aisling Sturbridge's history of lacking the short-sightedness that most Tremere have and her willingness to work with those outside her Clan that I'm counting on." Before the other man could comment, Thomas continues "Your concern is valid though and worth looking into as the time gets closer. For now we keep on as we have been, watching and listening as well as making sure our Childe has the best chance of surviving what is coming. I will not let that pretentious magician destroy her a second time."

Qadir was inwardly grateful that his fellow Toreador sometimes listened to his advice, at least when it came to the young woman they were discussing. "Have you figured out how you will beg forgiveness from her? You know she enjoys getting swept up in your games as much as I do."

"That would depend on what our little Ventrue would demand of me- considering all the influences on her life thus far, it can be a wide range of things."

A soft knock on the door signals that the time for talking has come to an end and the pair needed to go to their respective places- the Sheriff with the 'guest of honor', the Harpy, after making quick conversations with some of the other Kindred, would doing what he does best- making sure he and his come out on top.

"Do you think it's possible?"

A quiet hum escapes the blood mage as he gazes out the window. "I do know it is possible for such works to be done on those in our Clan. I have not heard that performing them on Kindred not of a Chantry being forbidden, however we would need to check with the High Regent, as well as the logistics." Dark eyes glance over at the woman beside him, and the Tremere apprentice goes "Why now, Andrasta? It has been decades since you last mentioned your scars-"

The raven-haired Ventrue holds up a small hand, the fluorescent lights of the gallery glinting off emerald and sapphire gems grasped in the delicate hold of the white gold bracelet around her wrist. "Agathon, I can trust you, yes? Oh don't give me that look," she says, seeing the affronted look on his face, "It's just… I've been reflecting on events since I arrived in New York and I can't help thinking I'm not in control of things as I believed- that everything has been pushing me towards something. It's unnerving. Maybe I've listened to Thomas's story about his Embrace too many times and how New York taught him to believe in fate."

"And what does this have to do with your scars?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know. Just please, speak with the High Regent on it."

"Annie, you know I will. Just know that she received a letter regarding her Sire so…"

Andrasta nods, not needing the mage to continue. She knew from Arturo of High Regent Sturbridge's desire to find out where her maker, one Lucien de Maupassant, was after he supposedly disappeared in the late forties. "It seems that the need for closure runs strong within the Kindred. I understand it all too well."

The sounds of the Primogen returning to the room hit their ears and the two say their goodbyes with the Tremere promising to reach out to her once he had the ability to sit down and speak with the head of his Chantry. The Ventrue's solitude was not long, with a few Kindred coming up to her indirectly seeking information regarding the comings and goings of her mentors. Though wearing a mask of indifference and feigning any knowledge, Andrasta is inwardly laughing at their temerity. Do they seriously believe I would tell them anything? As the last disappointed vampire walks off, a voice floats over her shoulder "Finish holding court?"

"More like their attempts at holding an impromptu inquisition. While I respect the attempts, it is getting rather boring fending off their poor efforts at prying for gossip. I see you survived Qadir's wrath once again- what did you do to this time in order to soothe his ruffled feathers?"

Whatever the Harpy planned on saying in response gets cut off by Prince Panhard addressing the Kindred gathered in the gallery. "I thank you all for coming, especially on such short notice. We know, Kindred of the New York City Camarilla, that we are fortunate to live here, grow here, flourish here. Unfortunately sometimes we are called upon to do less than enjoyable things, such as making the decision whether or not to grant a fellow Kindred their Final Death. Some of you were here the last time such a dilemma was before us, many years ago, and now that Kindred has become a valuable member of this Domain.

"Now, many moons later, the request has been put before our Sheriff, though instead of a confused neonate unsure of their place in our world, it is an ancilla who no longer wishes to carry the burdens of past sins. A familiar story, one that is expected from older Kindred...yet it is not at the same time. We had heard snippets of his story through whispers, rumors of a sort- never anything concrete until a player in that game arrived in our city. It then became very clear of what exactly transpired on the West Coast."

Hellene Panhard keeps talking, but the dark haired Ventrue tunes everything out, her mind replaying the end of that last sentence over and over. Since she arrived in New York and was convinced to give possibly the strangest pair of Toreadors this side of the Mississippi a chance to show her that she was worth it, Andrasta had kept a sharp eye on the Kindred that came through the Domain- not just scrutinizing the Tremere that trickled in and out of the city, but all vampires, even those of her own Clan. She knew from experience people, even Vampires, would do anything to survive… including selling out one of their own. But, if her instinct was right, how did she not get wind of it sooner? Surely Mercurio would have written to tell me if they were coming to New York, if anything to reconnect in person? And no one comes to this city without Thomas...

Sage orbs narrow as she dwells on that thought. Nothing happened within the Five Boroughs without her adopted Sire- both of them, actually- knowing about it, Arturo being the well-informed Harpy that he is and Qadir in his role as the Sheriff of New York. But they wouldn't hide something like this from me… Would they? She gets her answer as the scent of vetiver and patchouli overwhelms her- smells that the young vampire hadn't encountered in decades and evoking emotions she hadn't felt in as long- followed by seeing a rather disheveled mop of sandy blonde hair over vacant cerulean orbs and the face of a man that's haunted her dreams for even longer than that. Sebastian...