Malcolm Medina

2012-11-17T02:24:25Z

Vampire: Natchez By Night ––– The Campaign Timeline

2011-07-29T22:56:50Z

Ambrykestrel: /* Pre-Campaign */

A Timeline of all our adventures and journal entries and RP entries, in one place for context. 

'''Dates in bold''' denote Game entry. 
* Denotes an RP or Journal entry. 

==Pre-Campaign==
*(Unspecified Date) '''[[Zadie: An Evening Introduction]]''' ––– (Journal Entry: Zadie Calhoun)
*15 Aug 2008 - '''[[A Brand New Day]]''' ––– (Journal Entry: Irina DiSanti)
*22 Jun 2011 - '''[[Where Is Your Head, Irina?]]''' ––– (RP: Irina DiSanti and Ray Walker)
*24 Jun 2011 - '''[[Nighttime Ride]]''' ––– (RP: Irina DiSanti and Ray Walker)
*24 Jun 2011 - '''[[After the Ride]]''' ––– (Encounter Report-01: Irina DiSanti)
*25 Jun 2011 - '''[[Evening Interview]]''' ––– (RP: Irina DiSanti and Marcus Stone -- Still a Work In Progress)
*25 Jun 2011 - '''[[Rockin' On The Porch]]''' ––– (RP: Irina DiSanti and Caroline Thibideaux)
*07 Jul 2011 - '''[[Lunch Date]]''' ––– (RP: Irina DiSanti and Lt. Gerald "Jerry" Grierson)
*14 Jul 2001 - '''[[Blood In The Water]]''' ––– (RP: Caroline Thibideaux, Eliza Beauchamps, Evangiline Beauchamps Maguire, and Felicia DuBarrais)
*20 Jul 2011 - '''[[Mounds Of Trouble]]''' ––– (RP: The Author, Catfish, the Three Elvi, and more!)
*21 Jul 2011 - '''[[Zadie and the Madame]]''' ––– (RP: Zadie Calhoun and Madame d'Pumpmemore)
*21 Jul 2011 - '''[[Meeting The Sheriff]]''' ––– (RP: Irina DiSanti and Sheriff Chuck Mayfield)
*22 Jul 2011 - '''[[The Seduction of Caroline Thibideaux]]''' ––– (RP: Caroline Thibideaux,Zadie Calhoun,Evangaline Beauchamps Maguire, the Professor and the Pretty Boys)
*24 Jul 2011 - '''[[Taste Of Home]]''' ––– (RP: Irina DiSanti and Renny Janovich

 

==Campaign, July 2011 to - ==
[[NBN 1.0: TBD| '''30 Jul 2011''' - Game 1.0: TBD]] ––– In which we find ourselves in Natchez, Mississippi, and kick things off.

 

----
Return to [[Vampire: Natchez By Night#Adventure Log|'''''Adventure Log''''']] 
Return to [[Vampire: Natchez By Night|'''''Natchez By Night''''']]

The Seduction of Caroline Thibideaux

2011-07-29T22:56:05Z

Ambrykestrel:

Milton Van Elchin, known about town as Milli Van Elli, drove Evangaline's stretch Mercedes carefully through the narrow streets of the old part of Natchez, making his way to the Cabbage Rose to pick up his mistress' dinner companions. He had the forethought to ask the Thibadeux woman meet him there. It was an imposition already, and he had places to do and people to be tonight. Hunting was by far a preferable way to spend the evening. Pulling up to the kitschy gingerbread house, he left the engine running as he got out and ran to open the doors. "Ladies, your carriage awaits! Please do come, Evangaline Beauchamps Maguire hates to be left waiting."

Zadie rose from one of the rocking chairs where she waited with Caroline in the summer night heat, self-consciously smoothing the flower-covered cotton dress that she had put on. Looking back at Caroline, she grinned. "And now the fun begins," she quipped and stepped towards the stairs to go down to the car. She was looking forward to this as much as the dentist, but Grandma had assured her that there wasn't a way outta it. Didn't make her any happier. But she did feel pretty in this dress.

Dressed for dinner appropriately -- a lightweight tea-length chiffon with fluttery sleeves in a slate blue that brings out her eyes -- Caroline's eyes are on the road. She notes the car as it pulls up and remains at the top of the stairs, offering Zadie a bit of a nervous smile. She walks to the car and climbs in, oblivious to the driver's nattering. She can't hear a thing he's saying, after all. As she settles into the seat across from Zadie, however, she looks at the younger girl and murmurs, "Okay, now I admit... this is all makin' my stomach a bit nervous. Evangaline Beauchamps Maguire is someone even Mama doesn't dare turn down. Why on earth is she interested in havin' '''me'''?"

Closing the door tightly, Milli strolled to the driver's door, and took off with bracing speed, headed towards the cliff-front home of the Steel Magnolia of Natchez. "I hope you ladies are comfortable. If you'd have let our staff know, we could have had appropriate dress laid out for you at the house," he sneered. "As is, I'm sure this will do. After all, it's an informal affair."

"Apparently she's interested in dressing you and me," Zadie snapped, her eyes narrowing as she made certain to face caroline. Angling to the front so that Milli could hear clear, she practically hollared, "I'da come nekked if I knew you all were gonna dress us, mister."

Caroline didn't hear what was said but she knows Zadie well enough to get the jist of it from her response. And instead of shouting, she very calmly says to Zadie, "Now, darlin, it's not worth yellin' at the hired help. He can't help the deficiencies in his upbringin', and he '''is''' after all a ''man''. How would '''he''' know what appropriate dress is?" She pauses politely and then says, as if surprised, "Oh, unless he's gay. And then his fashion advice would definitely be worth listenin' to. Are you a homosexual, sir?" she asks in a tone of politeness without bothering to turn around for an answer.

Without another word wasted, Milli drove in silence the rest of the way. The stretch limo pulled into the carriage lane in front of the house, passing by a BMW Z3 in slate gray, and two nondescript white chevys pulled off to the parking spots. He trotted around to the right side rear door, holding it open for the ladies before quickly making his way first to the entryway to the house. With a flourish, he turned the knob and pushed open the door. "Welcome to Maggie's Roost, the Maguire home here in Natchez." Beyond the foyer, three gentlemen waited with varying degrees of patience. A tall blond man in his mid-thirties,with Colonel insignia on his dress green army uniform, and younger dark haired man in dress blue navy uniform of a Lt. in the Navy, and an older man with an open collar wearing a windbreaker, easily recognizable to Zadie as Professor Pettigrew. As the ladies entered, Pettigrew audibly sighed. "I was afraid you'd be here, Ms. Calhoun. Salut, and farewell. Apparently, we are the entertainment."

''Aw hell!'' Zadie thought. And then, ''Grandma!'' She looked the Professor in the eyes and shook her head. "I ain't very entertaining, Dr Pettigrew. So I guess we're in for a boring evening."

Caroline's blue eyes skim over the other assembled company -- and my, my, there is some really ''darlin''' eye candy about this evening, that is certain. Mmm! -- but it's the older gentleman's mouth moving that catches her attention. It doesn't bode well when you're greeted at the door with being the 'entertainment.' And though oblivious to the '''why''' of the undercurrents, Caroline is exceedingly aware that there are some. She remains near Zadie. The girl is a goldfish in a pool of piranha and she doesn't even know it. She doesn't speak until spoken to, however, that would just be rude.

The colonel stepped forward, his hand extended and shook hands with the ladies. "Pierpoint Beauregard Sampson, Ma'am. Army Medical Corps, charmed and delighted to make your acquaintance." The Lt. waited his turn to greet the ladies, and smiled warmly as he gave a lazy shake to each proffered hand. "Lt. Arnold Granger, Navy. No medical degree, I'm a former business major. Nothin' fancy, but I'm sure glad pretty ladies showed up! I was afraid it was gonna be another snoozer!"

She can't help but glance at Caroline, a mote of fear still burning in her for the safety of her Grandma. But Caroline was here and innocent. Not that she didn't worry about the Professor's words. But she found herself more worried about Caroline than herself. And she didn't even begin to know how to warn her. Caroline's beautiful face was serene, but her eyes were alert. Zadie smiled. ''Bright girl. Keep your wits around you. I'll do what I can to help in case there is trouble.''

She looked to the Professor, a bit of a frown marring her smooth face. "So, how's your classes, Professor?" As she spoke, Zadie moved closer to him, aware that Caroline looked at the military men with admiration. She had read a few of the young woman's books. Their hostess had chosen their dinner companions well. With the exception of the Professor. Lord, she so didn't want to end up dead with his face as the last thing she saw.

"The pleasure's mine I'm sure, gentlemen," Caroline replies in that same soft lilt, her smile perfectly in place. She takes the Colonel's hand and then the Lieutenant's. Any Southern Lady worth her salt can enjoy a good flirtation and navigate shark-infested waters at the same time! "I had no idea we'd be joined by such fine fightin' men. Welcome to Natchez." She takes her hand back from each, her eyes on the move. Keeping up with a crowd this large will be a challenge for her.

Precisely at 10, Evangaline swept into the foyer, and cast a blinding smile about the room. "Heavens, I'll just have to have the staff spoken to!", she trilled in her almost singing way. "Imagine leaving all you here, sittin' in the entry like salesmen, instead of to the parlour to sit and mingle." Looping her arm through the professor's arm, and inclining her head in turn to each of the officers, she glided across the parquet floor towards the formal parlour, and the sherry already poured into chilled glasses waiting for the dinner party. The colonel extended a crooked elbow to Caroline, and the Lt. made an elaborate show of aping the old-time rigamarole of just walkin' into another room by making a sweeping bow to Zadie. "I would be eternal in your debt if you was to put your arm in mine and walk with me fifteen feet, Miss. I sure would like to not have to take you by fireman's carry all that way!"

"I'd be mighty obliged if you didn't do that, sir," Zadie retorted. She held out her arm, nodding for him to slip his arm into hers.

Putting her hand in the curve of the Colonel's elbow, Caroline smiled. "Why thank you, sir. Very kind." She walked with him into the parlor and gracefully swept her skirt to one side to seat herself in the chair he leads her to. Sitting in one place affords her a better opportunity to watch people's mouths move, and in this particular gathering she's beginning to feel that facial expressions may be more useful to her. This way she can see all. "Thank you so much for the invitation, Ms. Beauchamps Maguire," she offers politely. "You have a delightful home."

Pettigrew sloshed his sherry around in the cut crystal glass, and stood awkwardly surveying the room. "I hate to cut short such a gracious hostess," he said, in tones that made it very clear indeed he had no such reservations. Nodding towards the officers, then rudely pointing his glass at Caroline, he asked, "Who's for dinner?"

Pointedly ignoring the professor, Evangaline smiled graciously at Caroline. Looking directly into the deaf girl's face, she spoke quietly yet firmly. "I had rather hoped to have pleasure before business, but men are such impatient things." With a stage wink, she leered towards the younger woman. "It makes them so easy to control. So, to business then."

Evangaline continued. "The young men here this evening are my ghouls, though I shiver at the word. Associates, rather. Both very proficient in the killing arts, as I myself have learned to become. You, Zadie, and your professor progenitor, are here as hostages to my latest quarry's agreeableness. I propose that by the end of the night, Caroline will be my newest associate, the professor will never darken are fair burg again, and Zadie will be my very junior but willing ally in the game of wits over who is indeed who in our Realm." Bending her neck slightly to avoid direct eye contact with any other in the room, she said demurely, "Was that quiet direct enough to make my intentions plain?"

For once, Zadie didn't have a ready answer. She just stared at her hostess and then looked to the Professor for some answers, her dark eyebrows raised with barely restrained irritation. It had taken a day to heal her from the wounds that had been dealt to her behind the post office; she was barely in the mood for more games that she didn't really understand and wasn't a decent player in.

A single brow quirks upward on Caroline's face, her expression puzzled. The turn of phrase is one she has to parse through. Who's for dinner? Well, good Lord, sir, how much have you had to drink tonight that you don't even observe the pleasantries. That's going to go over poorly. She glances toward the hostess to see what the woman is going to say -- many many young women have taken the genteel Evangline's example and used some of her best cutting remarks to their advantage. But ... that wasn't the response she was expecting. Now she's doubly confused. Dinner is business?

And then Evangeline says words in a string that.... should make sense in that they are English. Right? They create coherent sentences. But those sentences might as well be gibberish because... what in the name of all that's holy is a ghoul and why would she call the soldiers this? KILLING ARTS? WHAT? The deaf young woman is now beyond alarmed. Her eyes flicker to Zadie to see what's happening because the hostess seems to think she'll understand. But Caroline herself is still in the dark... and keeping her face schooled into polite lines is suddenly very difficult with the addition of adrenalized fear.

Sensing Caroline's fear, Zadie trys to give her a reassuring smile. But it is tighter than she means, cooler than would be helpful. "Excuse me, ma'am," she states, her voice clear in the silence, "wouldn't it be kinder if poor Miss Caroline were included in all this grandiose planning? Her being human and all, not to put a fine point on it."

Pettigrew sighed, and set down his glass. "Not being the suicidal type, I've of course got a gargoyle circling over the house right now. No reason for outright war, though," he said. "I can see why you picked this one, really," he leaned toward Caroline, and sniffed deeply. "The perfume of her panic is intoxicating, really. Zadie, her grandmother... expendable, as all recent acquisitions are. Ally, so be it. The Vienna convention of course will not allow blood binding. Let them stay, and you have our agreement. Since she's right here, the girl can hardly pretend to have the phone turned off."

The colonel laid a comforting arm on Caroline's shoulder. "It's a signal honor, miss, and you'll very much enjoy the benefits," he said, oddly knowing to make sure she can read his face. "You'll regain your hearing, over time. I overcame creeping congenital blindness with the gift."

The Lt. perched on the arm of Zadie's chair, and piped in, "Can I be assigned to keep an eye on this one? She's pretty!"

Evangaline stood, and brushed her hand softly over Caroline's hair, turning her face up to herself. "Shall you accept my gift? In time, a short time, I wish to make you one of the night rulers, a true vampire. I can't allow DewBerries or my sister to win; I'm afraid that with this many cards on the table, you must agree to play, or your chips must be cashed in." She frowned, and her face softened into an imploring, pleading look. "Shall you be my friend, and together, we live forever? I've waited a century for one of your line to be worthy of the embrace."

Zadie stared at the Professor, her eyes snapping. "Thank you. Now I don't feel so damn bad about hating you, Grandsire. Expendable?" She snorted and looked to Evangeline as she hovered over Caroline. "I'll be a better ally than that old bit of bitterness, ma'am. And I was born here and despite anomaly of my mama, my family's breeding is hands above the Professor's. You've known my Grandma and I. We could do things long before than man entered our lives."

Her eyes then fell on Caroline. "Please don't scare her anymore. She's not ready for this. Please ma'am. Just give her some time. I'll be with her. It's. . .it's hard to end the ties to the living."

They're all mad. They have to be. Caroline is certain she is sitting in a house with a bunch of madmen. It's a lunatic asylum disguised as a dinner party. She's missing the nuances of the entire conversation, and when the Colonel puts his hand on her shoulder drawing her attention to his face she misses the rest of what's said all together. She moves to stand up, her brows pulling together in a a faint frown -- her mama'd be appalled, such expressions cause wrinkles and a Lady tries never to allow that. But Caroline is right perturbed. And truly... terrified. That she struggles to keep from her expression, falling back on the one thing drilled into her from the cradle -- Manners, Caroline. At all costs, one must use good manners.

"Miss Beauchamps Maguire, I am beyond flattered to be invited to attend your dinner party. And though I think of myself as a woman with a good sense of humor, I must admit that finding myself the butt of such an elaborate prank -- how ever well-meaning and funny you intended it to be -- has somewhat soured my good humor. Nothing that the lot of you have said tonight is in good taste -- and quite frankly I'm shocked by that. I expected much better of you; but I shan't hold it against you come the morning. It can all be chalked up to to much humidity and a late dinner, I'm sure." Caroline forces a smile, not hearing any of what Zadie is offering.

Evangaline pressed the back of her left hand to Caroline's cheek, and smiled warmly, almost lovingly. Against all expectations, the sound of her voice is clear and obvious to Caroline. "What I wish to offer you is eternal life; life never ending, life without the pains and disagreeableness of getting older, infirmities from past injury. I wish you to be my friend... my associate, like the colonel. You shall be stronger, healthier, more robust. After an interval to set your affairs in order, such that you too might live only by night, I will wish to gift you with the embrace, and grant you the powers and yes, responsibilities of being a Toreador vampire. You will have knowledge such as humanity has striven for ages to obtain, insight that will answer the most private questions your soul has ever asked... and you will become as I am. One who rules, who controls, who exchanges human frailties for the majesty of being a living goddess." No matter how unwillingly, Caroline feels a flood of warm feeling towards the tall pale woman before her. "I know it is precipitous. There is fear, disbelief, and moral qualm. Ah, but there is a hunger in you that aches for beauty, an existence and appreciation for more then the mundane. Allow me, dear, to be your friend. I will show you, teach you, and love you. Heaven shall never be denied you; I give you heaven as your own domain to rule."

Pettigrew coughed, and rolled his eyes but remained silent during the overwrought and turgid Toreador wooing. The colonel stood behind Caroline as his mistress spoke, pressing his chest to her back, his hands lightly stroking her forearms on either side in a soothing comforting caress.

She has no idea how to respond to any of this insanity. And it shows in her face as Caroline tries to back up, finding herself surrounded by the Army Colonel. There is nowhere to backpedal and the young woman is trying not to get frantic. Her eyes are locked on Evangaline. "Ma'am, I just plain don't understand. I'm so sorry to tell you this, but believe me when I say that nothing you are sayin' makes sense." Her brain is having trouble wrapping around it. Not from a moral standpoint -- that doesn't even enter into any of this. She just plain doesn't believe what she's hearing. Or ... sensing in her head? Wait what? She pushes harder backward, as if the man behind her is going to let her go.

Zadie rose out of her seat, moving to rescue Caroline. "Stop fondling her like she's your cat, Colonel wierdo." Still feeling a bit annoyed at being sucked on by the other ghouls, she burns blood to pump up her strength to bodycheck the Colonel gently outta the way. Turning her attention to their hostess, she states quietly, "Miss Beauchamps Maguire, I would be in your debt if you would have your driver take us home. Feel free to parley with my grandma and the Professor all you want, but I believe that Miss Caroline is feeling sickly and needs to leave."

With a shocking speed, the colonel grasps Zadie's wrist and pulls her arm painfully up behind her back. His strength, while suprising, is no match for a vampire's full exertions, and she was able to reclaim her arm. The Lt. showed obvious reluctance with pulling the wooden stake in his inner jacket pocket free. Pettigrew began backing towards the door only to discover that Milli and two others of Evangaline's 'pretty boys' had blocked the frame of the exit to the foyer faster then would be reasonably expected.

Evangaline reached out to stroke Caroline's cheek again, her voice still clear and loud in the young woman's head. "It is a gift I wish to give you, but there can be no refusal. The wages of my friendship are eternal life, and beauty unending. The price of refusal is death; sure, quick, and ignoble. I am a vampire; one of the secret masters and mistresses who have been with humanity always. For all history, all prehistory, we have domesticated humanity as humanity has domesticated sheep. We cannot bear children; always, we must adopt. You have caught my heart, and contained my attention utterly with your talents and skills. Serve me but a short time, and you will become like myself, or your friend Zadie, and the unfortunate professor. You will evolve, and clarify. You shall be distilled into all that is art, and the love of art in the human welfgestalt, but in one heart, one mind, not a series of stuffy museums and books people only claim to read. Love me, allow me to love you, and you shall create and inspire forever."

The pale vampire lady continued to stroke Caroline's cheek. "I can show you, if you wish, the way of it. How you prove your friendship, and share your love. And before asking you to give yourself, give you the first taste of what it shall be to only serve, a shadow of what you shall feel when you rule."

In a fury, Zadie snatches a fork off the table and stabs it into the Colonel's side. Caroline is mesmerized, standing helpless. Turning for the Professor, she snaps, "You could help me, you old fool! Her family will come looking for us all."

Those ocean-blue eyes of Caroline's are, in fact, mesmerized by the sound of Evangaline's voice in her head. It's the first sound she's "heard" in years. And the matriarch isn't even moving her lips. It's fascinating, and Caroline can feel the lure of what's being offered. The fight behind her, that she can't hear. She notices, barely, when the Colonel moves away from cradling her body in the curve of his. "This is a dream," she murmurs softly, confusion in her face. "It has to be. There's no such thing." It's the stuff of science fiction -- and Caroline doesn't write sci-fi or those horrid werewolf sex books. No way. Come tomorrow when she wakes, this will all be something to laugh at. Right?

Zadie burns some more blood, her eyes alight. Reaching for her friend, she tries to pull her away. "C'mon Caroline. Let's go."

Evangaline turned to look at Zadie, her mouth opening, his eyeteeth MUCH longer and sharper then previously. "Miss Calhoun, consumed with buyer's remorse so soon? You act as if your embrace was not a loving gift but a crime committed upon you." Still stroking Caroline's face softly, she stared at Zadie, anger flashing in her eyes. Against her will, Zadie backs away from the older woman. "You'll die, Calhoun, as surely as your friend here if my loving gift is refused. There is no, 'think it over.' She shall taste of my blood, she shall serve me lovingly as the fountain of life and enlightenment, and she has by my side rule the nights of Natchez forever! She may do this with a hot headed neophyte companion, or she may do this with no guide to the true Realm but myself. But she shall do this."

Pettigrew whistled, and outside, the ground gave a resounding thump. "Damn it, Ms. Calhoun, let the woman take the girl and be damned! We're all already damned anyway, if there's a God he left early for another appointment, he assuredly has turned his eyes from us!" The older man made for one of the windows, stopping short when he saw the gardener and the cook with long wooden stakes cocked waiting in the hedge below the sill outside. "Stupid deaf girl, drink and be damned since you're damned but dead if you don't!"

Zadie turned around the room, pinning each of the men with flashing eyes. "Cowards! All of you. To do this to an innocent girl who doesn't even know what's going on! Shame!"

The curiosity that drives her as a writer to do research, the lure of the idea that this is all somehow a dream and should be savored. All those things come with the voice. Caroline's consent is not exactly spoken, but she allows in her mind for the fact that she's fascinated and hey.... may as well partake because it is all a dream. Consent is as simple as the word yes in her head, though her eyes flicker uncertainly to the room when Evangaline looks away.

Evangaline continued to stroke Caroline's cheek, and her voice whispered in the young woman's mind, "Drink, and take life!" Evangaline bit savagely at her other wrist, until blood poured and guttered freely. She lifted her arm to Caroline's mouth, and her stroking hand moved to the back of Caroline's head, urging but not forcing the woman's mouth to her wound. "Life, I give, and love, with the sharing of the essence of life, from my heart, the seat of my love. Drink, partake, and LIVE! Forever is your gift from me!"

Defeated, Zadie's shoulders slumped and she sighed, giving in to the inevitable as she flopped back into her chair. Eyeing the lieutenant, she stared pointedly at the stake he had tried to hide in his jacket again. "Really?" she asked. "You'd be that rude?"

It's all dreams and nightmares until the blood touches her mouth -- there's an instant of oh dear God, that's disgusting, how'd I come up with that? And then there is no more thought. There is a gasp as it hits her tongue, and then more than that... there is swallowing pure sunlight. Caroline's hands come up to cradle the wrist her mouth, gulping greedily after her first taste.

The Lt. looked abashed, and sheepish. "Well, I don't reckon I have much choice. Besides, you ain't Toreador. You don't know what it's like, Ms. Zadie. Really, it's like sex wrapped in cocaine with dessert and being hugged by your mama when your got a fever."

"Try it with your grandma, mister," Zadie snapped and turned her back to him, crossing her arms. She wasn't worried about no stake; the wooden splinter embedded in her gum kept that fear from her. But she wasn't gonna let him know that, no how.

Evangaline smiled, and let her new prize drink her fill. When Caroline could drink no more, she lapped softly at her open wrist like a cat, smoothing the skin to it's previous perfect luster. With a questioning look, she took Caroline's hand in hers, waiting for the next consent before taking her share from the dazed and drugged woman. Drinking only lightly, she sealed the wound carefully with a lick, and stepped away. "Now, shall we finally sit down and have that dinner?"

"Yes, ma'am," Caroline gasps. Stepping back from her hostess, she bobbles slightly. Drunk on what she's been given and sort of with stars in her eyes now. The room is reeling. "Ah do hope y'all don't mind, but I'm afraid Ah do feel just a hair..... Oh my." Lightheaded. She doesn't donate blood because she gets lightheaded easily -- her balance is easily warbled since the explosion. And she keels right on over in a graceful pile of slate blue chiffon.

Zadie looks back at the Lieutenant and then down at her friend. With a soft snort, she shakes her head and raises her glass in a toast to the room. "Well hell, it's a party now, y'all," she states and drinks.

As Caroline began to wilt, Colonel Sampson kneels, catching her before she can drop to the floor, and cradles her in his arms, to carry her to the sofa and recline her, smoothing back her hair. "Forgive me, please. But that reaction, I think you know I meant you only good, never harm."

Pettigrew stalked to the window, now that the main event had completely distracted the entire audience. "Ally, buddy, pal, lap dog. I'm leaving, and devil take the hindmost," he screamed, as large taloned arms reached through the shattering window to pull him free from the parlour. "We have an agreement, then? Zadie and Grandma older then Moses stay, I go, your pet gets to keep a pet Tremere, and none the wiser?"

 

Return to [[Vampire: Natchez By Night|'''''Natchez By Night''''']] 
Return to [[Vampire: Natchez By Night ––– The Campaign Timeline|'''''Timeline''''']] 
Return to [[Vampire: Natchez By Night#Adventure Log|'''''Adventure Log''''']]

The Seduction of Caroline Thibideaux

2011-07-29T22:53:57Z

Ambrykestrel:

Zadie Calhoun

2011-06-27T01:52:45Z

Ambrykestrel: /* Background */

{{MMChar|

Image=[[Image:Zadie.jpg]]|
Actor=Kristy Swanson|
Concept=Bartender/College Student|
Full Name=Melisande Mae Calhoun|
Identity=|
Aliases=|
Age=19 forever|
Birthplace=Natchez, Miss, USA|
FavoredWeapon=Weapon? Well, I got Granddaddy's shotgun|
}}

==Background==
 
Granddaughter of well-respected local Wilhemina (Willie) Mae Calhoun, Zadie is a native of Natchez, Mississippi from a family with deep roots in the area. She runs "The Cabbage Rose" a small gift shop with her grandmother and bartends at night at the "Magnolia Grill." She has always excelled at science but has plans to become a psychologist when she graduates college. Currently she takes distance ed courses at the University.

==Psychological Profile==
 
==Character Sheet==
 

==Links==
Return to [[Natchez By Night]] 
Return to [[Natchez By Night#Adventure Log|Adventure Log]] 
Return to [[DiSanti Files: Case Notes & Journal|DiSanti Files]]

Zadie Calhoun

2011-06-27T01:46:48Z

Ambrykestrel: /* Background */

{{MMChar|

Image=[[Image:Zadie.jpg]]|
Actor=Kristy Swanson|
Concept=Bartender/College Student|
Full Name=Melisande Mae Calhoun|
Identity=|
Aliases=|
Age=19 forever|
Birthplace=Natchez, Miss, USA|
FavoredWeapon=Weapon? Well, I got Granddaddy's shotgun|
}}

==Background==
 
Granddaughter of Wilhemina Mae Calhoun, Zadie is a native of Natchez, Miss. She runs "The Cabbage Rose" a small gift shop with her grandmother and bartends at night at the "Magnolia Grill." She has always excelled at science but has plans to become a psychologist when she graduates college. Currently she takes distance ed courses at the University.

==Psychological Profile==
 
==Character Sheet==
 

==Links==
Return to [[Natchez By Night]] 
Return to [[Natchez By Night#Adventure Log|Adventure Log]] 
Return to [[DiSanti Files: Case Notes & Journal|DiSanti Files]]

Zadie Calhoun

2011-06-27T01:37:27Z

Ambrykestrel:

Zadie Calhoun

2011-06-27T01:36:20Z

Ambrykestrel:

{{MMChar|

Image=[[Image:Zadie.jpg]]|
First=TBD|
Theme=TBD|
actor=Kristy Swanson|
Concept=Bartender/College Student|
Full Name=Melisande Mae Calhoun|
Identity=|
Aliases=
Age=19 forever|
Birthplace=Natchez, Miss, USA|
FavoredWeapon=Weapon? Well, I got Granddaddy's shotgun|
}}

==Background==
 
==Psychological Profile==
 
==Character Sheet==
 

==Links==
Return to [[Natchez By Night]] 
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2011-02-13T07:05:28Z

Ambrykestrel:

Dionysius Beignet

2011-02-13T07:04:27Z

Ambrykestrel:

Image=[[Image:.jpg‎]]|

        The smell of tiny, crispy donuts filled the air. Further, the furniture, the woodwork, even the very earth into which the tiny bustling burrow squatted with it's panalopy of oven chimneys and curiously shaped windows and various round doors positively reeked of the stink of tiny, crispy donuts. In the darkest hours before dawn, Dionysius Poilu Begneit departed his mother's womb to enter into stereotype. 
        Dion enjoyed a happy, if somewhat restrictive childhood. Very early, he showed promise academically, remaining in school past the sixth grade. Soon after his graduation, the parish priest, a Horseman of some distinction, recommended Dion for a space in the Gymnasium in Brussels as a scholarship student. Both Roland, his father, and Polyandra, his mother, agreed with some trepidation. Known throughout Demiville for their eponymous donuts, the Begneit's, Rolly and Polly, would sorely miss the help in the kitchen. Destiny insisted, and reluctantly his parents agreed to call off the manhunt mere days after Dion's midnight escape on a moonless night. 
        Brussels was, and is, a vibrant European capital. Dion poured himself into his studies, learning much in a short period of time. As soon as he was knee high to the incoming freshmen humans, however, he knew that his fate was not to be a member of the clergy. Waiting again for another moonless night, Dion made good his graduation and set about becoming a hobbit of distinction. Two hungry, desperate days later, he took employment with Hotel d'Anglais, specializing in caring for wealthy English visitors. Many menial years later, while bringing ice to a guest room, Dion made the acquaintance of Sir Reginald Throckmorton, a Master in the guild of Thaumaturgy, wealthy investor, and member of the Diogenes club. 
        Sir Reginald was engaged in philosophical debate over his seventh scotch with Calistrio Mysteriousio, impresario of street magic, over the nature of "The Gift." 
        "I daresay, I should welcome the challenge you put, sir," the Englishman slurred as the winds billowed his third sail. "I pledge that in two years, I can make a sorcerer of ANY being capable of speech you nominate." 
        A small voice by his left knee piped up. "Your ice, Mssr." Sinister Italian eyebrows raised.

Dionysius Beignet

2011-02-13T07:00:50Z

Ambrykestrel:

Dionysius Beignet

2011-02-13T07:00:05Z

Ambrykestrel:

[[ImagesCA6URYR2.jpg]]

        The smell of tiny, crispy donuts filled the air. Further, the furniture, the woodwork, even the very earth into which the tiny bustling burrow squatted with it's panalopy of oven chimneys and curiously shaped windows and various round doors positively reeked of the stink of tiny, crispy donuts. In the darkest hours before dawn, Dionysius Poilu Begneit departed his mother's womb to enter into stereotype. 
        Dion enjoyed a happy, if somewhat restrictive childhood. Very early, he showed promise academically, remaining in school past the sixth grade. Soon after his graduation, the parish priest, a Horseman of some distinction, recommended Dion for a space in the Gymnasium in Brussels as a scholarship student. Both Roland, his father, and Polyandra, his mother, agreed with some trepidation. Known throughout Demiville for their eponymous donuts, the Begneit's, Rolly and Polly, would sorely miss the help in the kitchen. Destiny insisted, and reluctantly his parents agreed to call off the manhunt mere days after Dion's midnight escape on a moonless night. 
        Brussels was, and is, a vibrant European capital. Dion poured himself into his studies, learning much in a short period of time. As soon as he was knee high to the incoming freshmen humans, however, he knew that his fate was not to be a member of the clergy. Waiting again for another moonless night, Dion made good his graduation and set about becoming a hobbit of distinction. Two hungry, desperate days later, he took employment with Hotel d'Anglais, specializing in caring for wealthy English visitors. Many menial years later, while bringing ice to a guest room, Dion made the acquaintance of Sir Reginald Throckmorton, a Master in the guild of Thaumaturgy, wealthy investor, and member of the Diogenes club. 
        Sir Reginald was engaged in philosophical debate over his seventh scotch with Calistrio Mysteriousio, impresario of street magic, over the nature of "The Gift." 
        "I daresay, I should welcome the challenge you put, sir," the Englishman slurred as the winds billowed his third sail. "I pledge that in two years, I can make a sorcerer of ANY being capable of speech you nominate." 
        A small voice by his left knee piped up. "Your ice, Mssr." Sinister Italian eyebrows raised.

File:ImagesCA6URYR2.jpg

2011-02-13T06:58:34Z

Ambrykestrel:

2010-11-19T05:39:28Z

Ambrykestrel:

Testing Faith

2010-11-19T05:34:31Z

Ambrykestrel: Created page with '"And then the Host said,'It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make a helper fit for him." - Genesis 2:18 The woman said, "The serpent beguiled me." - Genesis 3:13…'

"And then the Host said,'It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make a helper fit for him." - Genesis 2:18

The woman said, "The serpent beguiled me." - Genesis 3:13

There was a coolness in her face as she looked around the station, her steps brisk and yet not leaving the others. But impatience seemed to radiate from her in a manner that was not usually hers. Katherine looked at the train and her lips pressed into a smile. "I do not think that I will be unhappy to leave Paris," she remarked softly.

Ezekiel's arm and leg muscles ached as he stood on the platform waiting for the train. He hoped he would not experience a Frenze incident here. The events of the past night had been wearing, both physically and emotionally. And the Frenze often kicked in when he had pushed himself beyond his limits. But Katherine's tone of voice as she remarked on wanting to leave Paris reminded him the night had been long for the others as well.

As he walked to Katherine's side, he found himself relying on his cane more than normal, and its sound clacking against the wood of the platform seemed excessively loud. As he got close, he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Paris has not been restful, to be sure. But for me, its highs with you certainly outweigh the lows of this past night."

Though she did not flinch, her body was tense and firm under his hand. She closed her eyes, her shoulder giving to his touch; his voice brought peace to her and yet a sad irritation that she could not muster the nobility to ignore. "I," she began and then inhaled as she turned to him. He was tired, so very tired, and she smoothed a lock of hair fondly, searching his face. "Where were you last night, love?"

"Failing," he said rather curtly and then took a deep sigh. He should not take his anger with himself out on Katherine. He clarified, "At the Moulin Rouge with Monsieur Bertram. After that, on a circus wagon letting Selene Dashwood get away."

She looked as tired as he felt. He wondered if she had slept at all while in the jail. "I am sorry," he said, squeezing her shoulder slightly, "that I was not there for you last night." Another facet of his failure.

"As am I," she whispered and then bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Ezekiel. You did not deserve that." She looked away from his face, guilt making her flush. How could one man be expected to be everywhere? How could she be so strong as to battle a sorceress and yet be a baby when confronted with the results? It was irrational, but she knew that she had waited for him to save her and that weakness both galled and frightened her. "Let us change topics. What happened with Ms Dashwood?" She looked back at him, studying him again. He was using his cane, not holding it as an accessory, but using it. Her eyes sharpened as she stepped back to regard his posture. "We should find you a place to sit down, my heart."

Taking his arm, she tried to move him to a seat. "I shall be your guardian. I suppose that I should have not left you to have to deal with Selene Dashwood. It was my folly thinking that I could take Madam Rembecki. You should have waited for backup with Ms Dashwood. We shall sit together and rest."

He jerked away a little. "So now besides the Host, England, and you, I have also failed sensibility as well?" His voice rose slightly above the quiet rebuke he had meant it to be. It stung she agreed that he had failed in so many ways. The flip side of requiring honesty, he reminded himself. The truth was neither kind nor cruel. It just was, regardless of what he wanted from it. Or from her.

Offended that she felt he needed a protector (and that he had failed at being hers), he took his weight off the cane and stood straight, feeling it in his calf muscles. He may be tired, but he was not helpless.

Her hackles, still raised from the night before, rose again. "I would not have left you in jail," she snapped softly. "I do not question your sense, but I wonder at your choices." She looked at the height of him, tall with indignation and pride, knowing what pain he had to be in to accomplish it. But the petulance of the child had her and her eyes blazed with raw hurt. "Were Michael himself to stand in my way, I would have come to you if I could have. But I," and her emphasis made the pronoun ring, "was retained."

"It is no surprise you wonder at my choices, since you dismiss them without even knowing what they were." Did she not have faith in him? He had faith in her last night, which is why he had made the decision to ride with Selene. He had believed with all his heart she would be able to handle herself. Now she used that faith against him, the edge of her disdain sharper than the sword within his cane.

"Traveling with me on adventures will be difficult if the thought of standing on your own scares you so much. After all, it is clear you do not trust me to stand with you." He listened to himself in horror, the words spilling out of his mouth designed to hurt her, as if he was in a swordfight instead of with his love.

Her head jerked back as if she were slapped. "It isn't trust----" she began and then quieted as her fingernails ground into her palms. "You left me," she stated quietly. "I've come to depend on you. It isn't your fault; it is my own. I have no fear except losing you, but it seems as if I am driving you away in spite of that fear. Your belief in me is a wondrous thing, but I am a mortal woman. I do not know if you love the idea of me, or me, but the mortal woman still can be hurt by rejection, imagined or real." Looking up at him, her chin held high, she waited for his next pronouncement, girding herself to hear it.

"If I must defend myself against imagined rejections, then I am sure to fall, Katherine. I cannot be at your side at all times, nor would you want me to be." He reached forward with one hand and took her clenched hand into his. He slowly pried her fingers from the flesh of her hand, seeing the marks left by her anger. "And because I never will be less than honest with you, I must admit I do love the idea of you in addition to loving the real you." As he talked, he could feel her hand involuntarily clenching his in what must be anger, or at the very least frustration. "But I am still learning to know you, Katherine. Can you honestly say that you know me so well that I have no illusions for you, that no part of your love is for what you wish me to be, rather than what I am?"
"Love is an illusion," she whispered with sadness. "You are a mystery to me, one that I want to understand, one that I cannot concieve of constantly craving to explore every day. We are bound by our expectations, strangled by our hopes." She finally collapsed into him, drawing a tired, strained breath. "I am chaffing against expectations, Ezekiel; my own, my father's, Neecy's, and yours. And many of them are assumptions that are nothing but wrong." She nuzzled into him and took his hands and wrapped his arms about her. "I am growing wings with your love, but I seem to do nothing but bind you with mine. I cannot help but want your comfort when I am frightened. I should have known it was there, even if you were not."

Her hug gave him comfort, but yet also started to throw him off balance, his legs finally starting to give. "Let us sit down," he said quietly, the need to stand no longer important. Not letting her go, he managed to maneuver them to the nearby bench, where he gratefully sat down, with Katherine leaning up against him.

"You do not bind me, love. Your love is a strength and there is no weakness in wanting comfort. I had wished comfort from you when I sat in the police station, thinking over my failure to stop the gargoyle in its abduction." He ran the back of his hand softly across her cheek. "But no matter how I try, I cannot be there in all moments. So I must ask of you to be strong in those moments of fear. I know you are brave. Marshall that bravery both in my name and in your own, and I will be proud to have you as a partner as well as my wife."

The sigh was deep from her soul, a child's sigh, and the sigh of a woman who trusted implicitly and totally. She relaxed against him, melting her body in a warm blanket against him. "I don't care who sees," she stated, wrapping her arms about him. Nuzzling up his neck, she finally found his lips and kissed him. After a moment, she pulled back. "There is no woman more proud, more fortunate, more blessed than I. Pray for me. I lost faith and should not have. I am shamed and grateful that you are you. You make me brave and I shall not fail you again. Know that I love you beyond all reason and forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive." But as he said it, Ezekiel shook his head slightly. "But know that you will fail me again. And I will fail you. I am not a saint, you are not an angel. We are only human. And that is the way it should be." He kissed her again. "And our love is all the more real for it. Do you not agree?"

She blinked and then smiled gently. "I should have been in a sour mood sooner," she quipped with a small laugh. "And yes, I agree. We should have such conversations more often." She tilted her head. "Maybe when we are less tired. Maybe over tea or lunch, we can find out what exists beyond the pureness of love and find out who the humans are." She kissed his cheek and stroked his hair and face tenderly. "But you need rest and so do I. Lean against me and I will make certain that no sorceress or evilness bothers you if you wish to close your eyes a moment."

As she offered, he could feel his eyes closing even without a conscious effort on his part. "I am tired," he admitted. He leaned up against her, resting his head on her shoulder. "You will sleep too?"

"Later. You rest and let me hold the man that the Host has blessed me with." She continued to run gentle fingers over his face and hair, drawing the lines of his face. "I am quickly coming to the idea that this quest is quite getting in our way. We need to set aside time to talk. I want to know what your likes and dislikes are. And I look forward to failing you again and you failing me." She kissed his hair, inhaling the scent of it. "And for us being there for one another. Mere mortals. Together."

But even before she had said her last word, Ezekiel had fallen asleep in the comfort of her touch.

The Dark Corners of the Earth: The Story So Far ...

2010-11-19T05:17:16Z

Ambrykestrel: /* Paris, August, 1867 */

'''''Our Adventures, RP, and Journal entries are listed in chronological order below. Click on the links to read our exploits in more detail. ––– the Campaign Archivist''''' 

*Denotes RP/Journal entry
 

== Prologue ==

*'''17 Oct 1856, First Light''' - [[At Summer's End]] (Journal: Josephine) 
 

== London, August 1867 ==
'''14 Aug 1867 - ''[[In Which Our Heroes Are Introduced]]''''' ––– A fine Dinner, followed by a Scientific Demonstration and a Kidnapping by Agents of a Foreign Power. 
'''14 Aug 1867 - ''[[The Blind Beak]]''''' ––– In which there is much knees bent running about, several gunshots, a rather large fire on The Strand, and more than one scandalously loosed corset. 
*'''14 Aug, 2200hrs''' - [[An Abortive Acquisition]] (Journal: Josephine)
*'''14 Aug, 2245hrs''' - [[Carriage Ride Conversation]] (RP: Katherine, Ezekiel, and Josephine)
*'''14 Aug, 2250hrs''' - [[A Momentous Proposal]] (RP: Dionysius, Katherine, and Ezekiel)
*'''14 Aug, 2300hrs''' - [[A Meeting with the Beak]] (Journal: Josephine, [[Sir John Fielding | Sir John Fielding]])
*'''15 Aug, 0017hrs''' - [[Congratulation and Consternation]] (RP: Josephine and Ezekiel)
*'''15 Aug, after midnight ''' - [[What The Heart Wants]] (RP: Katherine and Dionysius)

'''15 Aug 1867 - ''[[Wyvern and Westminster]]''''' ––– We gain magical assistance in tracking down Rembecki, battle her minions, fail to waylay her, and tie up loose ends.
*'''15 Aug 1867, early morning''' - [[Sharing Secrets]] (RP: Katherine and Ezekiel)
*'''15 Aug 1867, 1145hrs''' - [[Consolidation]] (RP: Josephine, Katherine, and Ezekiel)
*'''15 Aug 1867, 1145hrs''' - [[Musings over an Amuse Bouche]] Inner thoughts of a small man
*'''15 Aug 1867, a little past noon''' - [[Tete-a-Tete]] (RP: Dionysius, Katherine, and Josephine)
*'''15 Aug 1867, a little more past noon''' - [[Confessions and Redemptions]] (RP: Katherine, Josephine, and Ezekiel)

'''15 Aug 1867 - ''[[The Investigation Begins]]''''' ––– We investigate Miss Dashwood's lab, encounter a demon of the 3rd Pale, and get our first real solid evidence into Dashwood and Rembecki. Also, an innocent word choice throws unintended scandal upon Katherine. 
*'''16 Aug 1867, after tea''' - [[Immodest Proposal]] Dionysus and Priscilla
 

== Paris, August, 1867 ==
'''17 Aug 1867 - ''[[Channel Crossings]]''''' ––– We cross the English Channel on the first leg of our journey, encounter a case of mistaken identity, and discover something from Flora's shrouded memory.
*'''18 Aug 1867, morning''' - [[Walk in the City of Love]] (RP: Katherine and Ezekiel)
*'''18 Aug 1867, early afternoon''' - [[The View of Paris and Beyond]] (RP: Katherine and Ezekiel)

*'''18 Aug 1867, evening''' - [[The Beginning of the Comedy]] (RP: Flora and Katherine)

'''18 Aug 1867 - ''[[Paris Shuffle]]''''' ––– A gargoyle from Societe du Nord pays Flora a visit, Josephine gathers intelligence for the next stage of our journey and in an incredible series of unintended events, we find Rembecki and Selene Dashwood and half our party is taken into French custody by evening's end. 
'''18 Aug 1867 - ''[[Recovering Our Stride]]''''' ––– In which we get released from prison, regroup, and carry our mission to Nurnberg.

*'''19 Aug 1867, morning at the train station''' - [[Testing Faith]] (RP: Ezekiel and Katherine)

Return to [[The Dark Corners of the Earth | '''''The Dark Corners of the Earth''''' ]]