Since the last time, we've been real busy. X has been trying to start a little gang war, and take over this city's Bloods gang. So far, he's managed only to attract the attention of someone called Scratch - another vampire, I presume, who's latched his fangs onto the Bloods' rival gang called The Cripples.
Cargen has been hanging out with that cute nurse from the asylum. She took two weeks off after witnessing a murder in the parking lot. One of the doctors was shot through the windshield of his car by someone carrying a shotgun - left pieces of flesh all over the back seat of the car, that did. The killer chose a rainy night to carry it out, relying on the cameras being fogged up and blurred.
Jimmy was trying to get more information from the doctors at the asylum - and when he discovered a ring of child sex traffickers, he chose a rainy night to ambush one of the perpetrators getting into his car. Shot him right through the windshield with a shotgun and fled into the rain-soaked streets like a menacing shadow.
Meanwhile, I've been conducting my own investigation onto just who bought the little girl from that place. It turns out that Ava, the hag, knew where she was all along - leading us on just long enough to keep us out of her hair, I suppose. Either that, or we were just a useful delivery service for her. Either way, this stinks.
I hope to find some answers at Court today. There's higher security than usual, which makes me think that maybe Prince Augusting will be gracing all us vamps with an appearance. He hasn't shown up recently - instead relying on his Seneschal Sullivan Poole to conduct city business for him. It's being held in Skyfall tower, the tallest building in Gloryhill, on the top floor.
They call it "The Night Garden" for a reason - it's got the sort of ambience that a weaker-willed Daeva would spend the rest of his life trying to recreate. The contortionists from Cargen's fairground have all been hired to act as living sculptures, twisting and deforming their bodies to mimic the souls of those they entertain. Meanwhile, the garden pathways are lit from underneath by flameless candlelight, giving the omnipresent rosebushes a menacing, shadowed appearance. Their thorns stand out even more clearly when lit in this way. They say every rose has its' thorn - but these thorns have their roses. And at the front of the room, a pedestal inlaid with gold to serve as a speakers' dias.
All of kindred high society was there - of course I could see Dr. Hoff, never one to miss a court date - and the newest Sheriff, Whitney Underwood. She looked frail, a slight girl out of her element as an agent of the law. And Jonathan Price, whose graceful movement belied his lanky frame.
The Seneschal himself was sitting on a gold and red Queen Anne chair near the bottom of the stairs to the helipad. He cast an imposing form: all straight-lipped, straight-spine, with slicked back hair. I murmured under my breath, "I know a nazi when I see one..."
Of course, Veronica's here too.
"Oh, look who it is," I mentioned, gesturing towards the spider herself.
"Mind your tone, whitey." X elbowed me in the ribs. "think about who you're talking about."
There were others I didn't recognize, but X seemed to.
When Veronica found Dr. Hoff, I sidled up with Cargen to overhear their conversation.
Veronica laid her hand gently on Dr. Hoff's shoulder. "How's your new business, Hoff?"
Even through his mask, I could tell Dr. Hoff was disappointed in someone else's misdeeds. "Well, there've been some hiccups, but the plan is going comfortably on schedule."
"Will you be ready to hand it off to the buyer when I locate the product?"
"The real question is if you'll be ready to provide the product when we locate a seller. This is a dangerous game we play, you and I."
Veronica was about to respond, but Erik Kolbichef walked up. He was one of the few here I recognized - not only was he Veronica's husband, but a high-ranking Dragon as well. She started putting all her attention - and affection - on him.
Strange pair, those two. Veronica, well, she was the sort of girl that guys would jump in front of a bus for. And Kolbichef was looking like the sort of guy who'd be driving that bus. He looked like a drowned corpse, leaving a trail of water behind him. There was even a piece of seaweed caught in his moldy hair.
Scoffing, the good doctor walked away. I heard a helicopter come closer and closer before landing on the helipad above us. And with that, the Seneschal took the podium. Somehow amplified, his voice filled the night garden, making all other conversations peter out.
"Greetings to Meine Damen und Herren of the glorious Kingdom of Gloryhill. I present to you the rightful Prince by Birthright and True Son of Caine, Augustine Corinth."
The Prince opened the helipad door and stepped inside, surveying the menagerie below him. He was dressed in a functional black suit, with an amulet - THE amulet - around his neck. To his right, a girl on a leash and dressed in fine silk. Even if her face was obscured by her hair, there was no mistaking her - it's the girl from our shared dream. Funny thing, that. Haven't seen the Prince in almost a year, and here he comes to visit Court like he hasn't even been gone at all.
He came down the stairs and into the crowd. Vellum immediately sought him out.
"Oh, Jimmy! I've been meaning to talk with you." The Prince said, his thick Romanian accent letting his origins out of the bag. "I've been - how you say - "seeing a light." He wound his finger around the girl's hair idly.
"What do you want... my prince?" Vellum added the last bit almost as an afterthought, and the Prince broke into a wide grin.
"What I want, dear Jimmy, is to give you a gift such as befits a man of your stature and reputation."
"Yeah? What would that be?"
"I want you to be the new Master of Elysium at the 17th Street Mission." The Prince laid his hand on Vellum's arm, dead skin flaking off and tumbling to the ground like snow.
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