Post by Jenn on Dec 11, 2013 18:12:10 GMT -8
The last thing Sarah expected in this time of crisis, was to be stuck in the basement of the Tacoma Art Museum with her elders. Veritas had ordered Hamza here, who had, in turn, ordered her here. The only word of explanation had been, “We received information on Durante.” Not that the millennia old vampire had spoken to her directly. All Veritas’ words went from him to Hamza to her. And all Hamza would tell her was that it was “better for her to stay here for the time being” because of the mad necromancer.
Never mind what Camarilla duties she had. Never mind the task Colin had given her.
She sat there in the corner of the common seating area of the first sub-basement. It was a warmly appointed room with comfortable chairs and tables that made it look more like a private club house than underground level. Sarah bet it had been decorated by Chenoa. There were a bunch of guest rooms on this level, each with two beds a piece, a door that locked from the inside, and very solid concrete walls. A quick analysis of what she’d seen said that whole building was effectively a refurbished bomb shelter. In her tour of the place, Sarah had found workshops and a very nice library. It was something she wanted to talk to Ritcher about after whatever the hell was happening, finished happening.
She hated not having intel. Intel was her job.
Sarah frowned at Hamza as he sat in meditation. She didn’t understand him or his reverence for Veritas and Aequinas. Despite their age, neither of them had standing of any kind with the Children of Haqim, while Hamza was well respected. Yet, the designated Leader of the area submitted to the pair as if he were a pup.
In doing so, and ordering the pair of them out of a primogen meeting, Veritas and Aequinas were killing them politically. She shook her head. Pulling them out of that primogen meeting without a reason why. The Independents were never going to be good for the Schismatics where the Cam was concerned.
But, the Schismatics were part of the Camarilla now. That meant that the Cam was linked into the Laws of Haqim. Didn’t that mean she had to take into account the Law of Leadership where the Prince was concerned? Then again, while traditionally, the Eldest ruled in the Camarilla, Colin was not old by any stretch of the imagination.
She got up and walked down the hall to her guest room, and threw herself on the bed. Nothing about how her clan was run in this city made sense. Veritas judged, as was his duty, but Hamza was the designated Leader and she was the primogen because Hamza didn’t want to be. She shook her head. Too many Chiefs. Not enough Indians. To her, there was no clear line of command.
With the way it was set up, there was supposed to be a merging of Traditions and Laws of Haqim. The Camarilla’s Traditions did appear to be the best for the safety of Kindred—except for their disregard for the Kind. Seattle was not a normal Camarilla city. Some likened it to the Cam on speed. Some likened it to Reality TV for vampire society. Either way, the Traditions mostly held up. Mostly.
There was a lot of research she was going to have to do when she got out of this place. Maybe talk to some of her elders outside the city to figure out the place of the Camarilla and where it intersected with the Laws of Haqim… and to find out why Hamza was acting the way that he was.
There was just so much she didn’t understand right now. It vexed her. Sarah chewed her lip, contemplating her sudden grounding—because that’s what it felt like—and her lack of understanding with everything going on around her.
Ritcher stopped by the doorway and smiled at her. It was a car salesman’s smile and, for some stupid reason, it made her happy. Probably because they both knew it was fake and, thus, could be counted on. "Heya Ricky. Nice digs you got here."
Richter nodded, "Hey. How's things?"
"Pretty crappy, but that's not your fault. I'm still not sure why I've been ordered here." She shrugged. "But be that as it may, I've been meaning to chat with you if you have the time." She gestured to the bed across from where she was sitting.
Richter settled down on the edge of the bed. "I'm all ears, darlin'."
Sarah shoved her confusion and discontentment aside. At least she’d finally have that conversation she’d been meaning to have with Ritcher about the Heart of Darkness sitting below Seattle.
Never mind what Camarilla duties she had. Never mind the task Colin had given her.
She sat there in the corner of the common seating area of the first sub-basement. It was a warmly appointed room with comfortable chairs and tables that made it look more like a private club house than underground level. Sarah bet it had been decorated by Chenoa. There were a bunch of guest rooms on this level, each with two beds a piece, a door that locked from the inside, and very solid concrete walls. A quick analysis of what she’d seen said that whole building was effectively a refurbished bomb shelter. In her tour of the place, Sarah had found workshops and a very nice library. It was something she wanted to talk to Ritcher about after whatever the hell was happening, finished happening.
She hated not having intel. Intel was her job.
Sarah frowned at Hamza as he sat in meditation. She didn’t understand him or his reverence for Veritas and Aequinas. Despite their age, neither of them had standing of any kind with the Children of Haqim, while Hamza was well respected. Yet, the designated Leader of the area submitted to the pair as if he were a pup.
In doing so, and ordering the pair of them out of a primogen meeting, Veritas and Aequinas were killing them politically. She shook her head. Pulling them out of that primogen meeting without a reason why. The Independents were never going to be good for the Schismatics where the Cam was concerned.
But, the Schismatics were part of the Camarilla now. That meant that the Cam was linked into the Laws of Haqim. Didn’t that mean she had to take into account the Law of Leadership where the Prince was concerned? Then again, while traditionally, the Eldest ruled in the Camarilla, Colin was not old by any stretch of the imagination.
She got up and walked down the hall to her guest room, and threw herself on the bed. Nothing about how her clan was run in this city made sense. Veritas judged, as was his duty, but Hamza was the designated Leader and she was the primogen because Hamza didn’t want to be. She shook her head. Too many Chiefs. Not enough Indians. To her, there was no clear line of command.
With the way it was set up, there was supposed to be a merging of Traditions and Laws of Haqim. The Camarilla’s Traditions did appear to be the best for the safety of Kindred—except for their disregard for the Kind. Seattle was not a normal Camarilla city. Some likened it to the Cam on speed. Some likened it to Reality TV for vampire society. Either way, the Traditions mostly held up. Mostly.
There was a lot of research she was going to have to do when she got out of this place. Maybe talk to some of her elders outside the city to figure out the place of the Camarilla and where it intersected with the Laws of Haqim… and to find out why Hamza was acting the way that he was.
There was just so much she didn’t understand right now. It vexed her. Sarah chewed her lip, contemplating her sudden grounding—because that’s what it felt like—and her lack of understanding with everything going on around her.
Ritcher stopped by the doorway and smiled at her. It was a car salesman’s smile and, for some stupid reason, it made her happy. Probably because they both knew it was fake and, thus, could be counted on. "Heya Ricky. Nice digs you got here."
Richter nodded, "Hey. How's things?"
"Pretty crappy, but that's not your fault. I'm still not sure why I've been ordered here." She shrugged. "But be that as it may, I've been meaning to chat with you if you have the time." She gestured to the bed across from where she was sitting.
Richter settled down on the edge of the bed. "I'm all ears, darlin'."
Sarah shoved her confusion and discontentment aside. At least she’d finally have that conversation she’d been meaning to have with Ritcher about the Heart of Darkness sitting below Seattle.