2013.06.27: Story Time
|Maltharius tells the story of the Blood Scribe at the Elysium|
|IC Date||June 27, 2013|
|Players||Madeline, Morgrim, Maltharius,|
Elysium - Foyer
Inside the main section of the Elysium is quite large indeed and portraying its grand structure from the inside rather nicely. The main room consists of a great foyer sectioned off by several mahogany archways that lead to the various offices, the ball room, and another for a rather decently wide feeding as well as lounging area. Two sets of stairs against the rear wall lead up to the second floor where often those with enough status or in positions of power hold discussions, share art and poetry, speeches, hold philosophical debates and the like. The great foyer hosts a seemingly ancient though pristine grand piano for those that wish to display their musical aptitude. A grand crystal chandelier hangs overhead, lit with an array of electrical lights that illuminate the area in a soft, pleasant, golden glow.
The floor beneath is rich burgundy carpet that provides ample support and cushioning. Old pictures and tapestries from times long past adorn the walls at all sides. In one section of the foyer is a medium-sized den where old books rest neatly on large shelves. The entirety of this room features places to sit, talk or dine. The main area also hosts several necessities for one's unliving comfort. A variety of loyal ghouls and blood dolls walk around, ensuring that the needs of the Kindred here are attended to with the utmost promptness. A large, flat-screen dislay, DVD, blu-ray, stereo, fully stocked bar with all different variety of blood types, couches, chairs, and other such accessories fulfill the modern entertainment requirements of room. Often gentle music plays, adding to the decor for an enjoyable background harmony. This room carries an ancient air of distinction, but with a soothing and relaxing style.
Maltharius is seated at one of the tables with an old book in his hand covering what appears to be an e-reader or tablet of some kind.
Madeline comes from the hallway with Morgrim.. Beauty and the Beast but.. which is which.
The figure of Morgrim follows along behind the Keeper towering over the more diminutive Toreador. The creatures face is fixed in a rictus grin do to dessication and lose of tissue. The one eye fixes for a moment on the stranger to it at least in the Elysium and the creature studies for a moment in silence before offering a toneless, "Good Evening."
Maltharius glances up from his book upon hearing the arrival of others. Madeline, he knows, and is given a polite bow of acknowledgement. The tall, robed figure is given a cautious glance. With an eyebrow raised, spock-like, in curiosity he eventually offers an equally polite bow to...'it' and responds, "Good evening to you both..." he begins and closes the real-book cover for his tablet. "How do you find this evening?"
Madeline smiles as the hostess and nods "Monseiur Maltharius of Ventrue, might I introduce Elder Morgrim, of Nosferatu. She is also our deputy Sheriff"
There is a slight inclination of the creatures head to Maltharius enough to make its 'hair' scrape against the floor. "Welcome to the City." is offered before the spindly figure peels off to an out of the way corner of the room.
Maltharius looks at the retreating nosferatu and seems rather curious about the various manifestations of their clan's curse. "May I ask you something, Deputy Sheriff?" the tone open and at least not accusatory. "I have seen those of your clan appear nearly in any form they wish - from the stuff of nightmares to that of a beauty of the stage - but one thing has always plagued my curiosity: which form was real."
Madeline steps to the bar to accept a glass of white wine from the staff and glances curiously over to morgrim
Morgrim looks back at the Ventrue no offense apparently taken at the question, "This is the form I woke up after my embrace. I was lucky I do not seep nor did I manifest anything I feel in need to hide." One of the mutated hands lift, "I am quie comfortable as I am I have had a long time to adjust to what others would see as a loss. Others choose to hide behind faces, that is there choice we are all unique."
Maltharius nods and crosses one leg over the other at the knee. "Fascinating..." The word escapes his lips nearly without his command to speak. "The Father's blessings are wondrously varied it would seem." He pauses and then can't help but ask, "If you were to bless another with your blood - would the manifestation be similar or is it random?"
Madeline lifts the wine to her perfect lips and sips, savoring the flavor as she savors the unique conversation
Morgrim folds itself in to a chair, "It is as I said unique to each of us. I have yet to see any child resemble its sire, it though is not outside the realm of possibilites." A shoulder lifts slightly in a shrug, "All I can say is the most common trait I have seen is a tendency to leak fluids of some kind."
Madeline winces slightly but smiles, "Joe, back in New Orleans was a horror for the keeper there" she says but the words are fond nonetheless
Maltharius hrms and leans forward in his chair as he speaks - clearly interested in maintaining the conversation, "You know - I met one of your clan before that was as 'changed' as you seem to be. He was an elder from Syria who had retained something called a Skin-Dancer to graft new skin onto his body. In essence, the 'Dancer' flayed large portions of skin off of your kin and replaced it with the flesh of a slave." He leans back in his chair as his rune-covered hands gesture in the air and upon his own body to mimic the process of ripping off skin and replacing it with 'something'. "Imagine one night receiving a new leg and the next week a new arm..."
Morgrim laces its fingers together, "I would image the desire in so not to spend all of enternity with the curse of our blood is great in some. As I said I have accepted my curse. I have a sense of peace now that I have done such and i can only hope in time the others of my brood will find such within their condition."
Madeline winces to think of the poor mortal being so tortured "But.. Mademoiselle, surely such alterations would be rejected by the blood non?"
Maltharius holds his hands up, resting his elbows upon the arms of the chair, "I have no idea if the story was accurate - but the Elder -did- show me where several of the 'patches' of flesh had been joined together - rather like a quilt." With a awe-struck look upon his face he offers, "...it was remarkable."
"I have been told that if one finds a fiend suitably skilled such things might be overcome. The curse we bare is given life the moment of our embrace and we are changed, such is not the case for any other clan save Samedi. Even they might benefit from such as ours is a physical malady of sorts repairs could be possible."
Madeline nods curiously "Merci Mademoiselle for the explination
Maltharius nods, "Are you familiar with the story of Fazhal ibin Qajir?" He begins and assumes that unless they have traveled in his circles it's unlikely that anyone would have heard of the 'blood scribe'. "He was also a member of your tribe - though he lived long ago in Jerusalem. It is said that he began searching for the Father - knowing that 'He Who Walks' had not been lost to us but was wandering the world." Flipping open the book he was once looking through, he taps the screen hidden inside to show an old, wood-cut bit of illumination probably from a mid-1800's book of an arabian man walking through the desert until he found three, stone pillars. "Fazhal was a scribe of the highest calibur and wished to record the teachings of the Father so that we, his children, could follow his Path. But the son of Qajir was cursed as many of your clan are - unable to live in the cities easily. So he traveled from city to city in the hopes of finding the Father when he came across the Pillars of Ashai outside of Damascus."
Flipping the electronic page to the second screen it shows the arab bowing before a man in robes. "Fazhal was desperate with thirst and was ready to pounce upon the wanderer when the man offered him his arm and said, "Drink of me - and know that I am your Father."
"I am unaware of such, I was raised in the era of the Christ. My sire had once been a pope or so he liked to claim so his views were not favorable for such studies."
Madeline brushes back her hair and takes a seat as she listens, not having heard any of this before in her young life
Maltharius continues, "Fazhal drank from the man's arm and felt the power of the blood coursing through him. The maladies of his transformation fading from his flesh like a fog from the sea. The man who called himself 'The Father' wandered back to the city of Damascus and the two spoke for three days." Maltharius can't help but hold out his hand with three fingers extended for added emphasis - he's such a storyteller. "And after the third night, the Father was gone. Fazhal ibin Qajir spent the next decade writing everything that he and the man spoke. 'For there is Power in the Blood'." The story seems to be winding down a bit and the last fragment of what was said seemed more like a prayer or a section from a religious text. "So...perhaps there is assistance out there - for those who would seek the blessings of the Father upon them."
Morgrim listens quietly to the story, "I can see the need in to being able to blend in but I am as the father intended me to be. I do not count this as a curse. It has made me a better creature in the end, I was unable to rely on physical beauty. I had to rely on my intelligence and other skills to acheive the same effects."
Madeline sips her wine again as she listens and thinks this over, not commenting yet
Maltharius nods, "You are wise to see the Father's Blessings for what they give you and not what they have changed. We are all, each of us, Children of the Blood - and to deny that is to deny 'Him'." Leaning back in his chair he seems to have said his peace and will refrain from beating people over the head with the Gospel of Blood, the Bible of the Vampiric Father. "Perhaps, you would be interested in reading the fragments I have been able to gather of the 'Blood Scribe's' writing?"
"If you have a copy you are willing to lend I would be intriqued to read them. I am curious as to what was learned and what can be learned in myself." Morgrim turns to look at the silent Keeper for a moment.
Madeline looks rather young at the moment, not sure what to think of all this "Fascinating" she finally murmers. Madeline chews on her lovely lower lip and then sips her wine. Holding the crystal glass between her hands she nods "I would be happy to read what you have learned monseiur" though clearly she is reserving judgement
"I will be extremely care with it Sir." The nossie bows its head at the generous offer. "See you have many eager students."
Maltharius nods, "I shall ensure that a copy is left here for your review..." He stands and leaves the room for a bit - heading into the Ventrue office.