Post by Amadeo Vittore on May 22, 2005 13:12:39 GMT -8
Sunday, May 21st, 2005. 2:30 AM
The University of Washington
U. District, Seattle, Washington
The skies had cleared since the rain earlier in the evening. The clouds had gone from a blanket of brown-orange to the broken fluff of pale blue-gray. In the sky, a nearly full moon hung, shining down silver light onto the campus and it’s centuries old buildings. The architecture reminded Amadeo so much of home, and he was truly grateful for Henrietta’s permission to travel those grounds. He had no intention of feeding, he merely wanted to be reminded of the old world and to remember Europe. For that small blessing he was truly thankful, and he was sure that Henrietta understood, coming from Europe as she did.
Insults continued to come, but through some he had maintained his façade, appearing not to care. It just meant more waiting, more vengeance. The sheriff and Rochelle had dealt the biggest insult. It would take time but in the end there would either be the icy sting of vengeance, or some form of retribution.
Again he reminded himself that he was Lasombra, that this city knew nothing of him or his clan and that all they had to learn from was the rabble of the Sabbat which nightly served to tarnish the nobility of his lineage.
Then there was Matty Kincaid. The whelp had finally crossed the line, he’d cost Amadeo and Gavin the chance at proving they were doing their jobs, especially Amadeo, who still had much to prove in the domain. Matty’s phone call had called them away from their plan to capture X, without breaching either Elysium or the Masquerade. What’s more is that his interference had cost the Lasombra precious vitae. For that, Amadeo would take his retribution out of Matty Kincaid. But not before he and Gavin were certain to take X’s accomplice, Seth and bring him and his vile to the Seneschal to deliver the Prince’s justice.
The Lasombra had to wonder just how screwed up the story had gotten in that meeting? The Gangrel was never set on fire. In truth the Gangrel hadn’t even breached the Masquerade. But Amadeo had long ago learned not to question the Ventrue. Not if he wanted peace in any city they controlled. So he would let them be misinformed by Kindred more trusted than he. That was the way of the Camarilla. And as flawed as it was, it had become his way as well. Loyal, to a fault, to the Camarilla. Loyal almost to the point of humiliation. But he refused to let Lucita win. The words of his Sire repeated in his mind:
“If the Camarilla serves our needs, even infinitesimally better, then it has our support.”
Amadeo had to wonder how Isaac would take a Tradition Breaker bearing the title of Revered. But this was Seattle and Amaerican Kindred, Amadeo had decided, were either foolish, uneducated or just plain stupid. Thomasino’s letter had brought a kind of calm to Amadeo, along with his current thoughts on American Kindred, and it had given him a way to aid his Prince. While no one could ever truly inspire in him the Loyalty of a Lasombra Prince, Isaac was the Prince of his current domain, that fact alone meant that Amadeo would give the younger Kindred all the help he could.
Amadeo knew it would go unnoticed. It would all be done from the shadows where it was his place. But the thankless jobs were often the most important. In life he had learned that Priests and educators had thankless jobs, and yet they were the most important. They provided spiritual guidance, wisdom and knowledge. And knowledge is power. Besides, the Giovanni had a debt to repay.
Then again, Many Kindred had less formal debts to repay to the elder Lasombra. Now it was time to collect.
The University of Washington
U. District, Seattle, Washington
The skies had cleared since the rain earlier in the evening. The clouds had gone from a blanket of brown-orange to the broken fluff of pale blue-gray. In the sky, a nearly full moon hung, shining down silver light onto the campus and it’s centuries old buildings. The architecture reminded Amadeo so much of home, and he was truly grateful for Henrietta’s permission to travel those grounds. He had no intention of feeding, he merely wanted to be reminded of the old world and to remember Europe. For that small blessing he was truly thankful, and he was sure that Henrietta understood, coming from Europe as she did.
Insults continued to come, but through some he had maintained his façade, appearing not to care. It just meant more waiting, more vengeance. The sheriff and Rochelle had dealt the biggest insult. It would take time but in the end there would either be the icy sting of vengeance, or some form of retribution.
Again he reminded himself that he was Lasombra, that this city knew nothing of him or his clan and that all they had to learn from was the rabble of the Sabbat which nightly served to tarnish the nobility of his lineage.
Then there was Matty Kincaid. The whelp had finally crossed the line, he’d cost Amadeo and Gavin the chance at proving they were doing their jobs, especially Amadeo, who still had much to prove in the domain. Matty’s phone call had called them away from their plan to capture X, without breaching either Elysium or the Masquerade. What’s more is that his interference had cost the Lasombra precious vitae. For that, Amadeo would take his retribution out of Matty Kincaid. But not before he and Gavin were certain to take X’s accomplice, Seth and bring him and his vile to the Seneschal to deliver the Prince’s justice.
The Lasombra had to wonder just how screwed up the story had gotten in that meeting? The Gangrel was never set on fire. In truth the Gangrel hadn’t even breached the Masquerade. But Amadeo had long ago learned not to question the Ventrue. Not if he wanted peace in any city they controlled. So he would let them be misinformed by Kindred more trusted than he. That was the way of the Camarilla. And as flawed as it was, it had become his way as well. Loyal, to a fault, to the Camarilla. Loyal almost to the point of humiliation. But he refused to let Lucita win. The words of his Sire repeated in his mind:
“If the Camarilla serves our needs, even infinitesimally better, then it has our support.”
Amadeo had to wonder how Isaac would take a Tradition Breaker bearing the title of Revered. But this was Seattle and Amaerican Kindred, Amadeo had decided, were either foolish, uneducated or just plain stupid. Thomasino’s letter had brought a kind of calm to Amadeo, along with his current thoughts on American Kindred, and it had given him a way to aid his Prince. While no one could ever truly inspire in him the Loyalty of a Lasombra Prince, Isaac was the Prince of his current domain, that fact alone meant that Amadeo would give the younger Kindred all the help he could.
Amadeo knew it would go unnoticed. It would all be done from the shadows where it was his place. But the thankless jobs were often the most important. In life he had learned that Priests and educators had thankless jobs, and yet they were the most important. They provided spiritual guidance, wisdom and knowledge. And knowledge is power. Besides, the Giovanni had a debt to repay.
Then again, Many Kindred had less formal debts to repay to the elder Lasombra. Now it was time to collect.
