Third night. Part 2.
Alexander visits his sire - "Mother", as he calls her - at her haven in the Industrial District, hoping for information and guidance.
Monday. 08h30pm. Evelyn March's Haven. Industrial District.
We have to test the scene. I'll leave Chaos fixed at 5, though.
Roll - 5. "Odd within chaos factor". Altered scene again. If the first scene I thought was merely Alexander meeting with Evelyn, what's it now? I'll roll in the scene adjustment table. 3. "Reduce/Remove an Activity".
First thing that comes to my mind: Evelyn is drunk. It is a rare, very rare sight, but that's what the "extreme yes" meant regarding her being in her Haven. She decided to drink from some intoxicated mortals, and now she's drunk at home, and Alexander doesn't know if this makes his progenitor more or less scary.
Chat GPT, set the mood!
The air in Evelyn March's haven is heavy with an uncharacteristic stillness, broken only by the faint, irregular drip of water from some unseen pipe. The dim lighting, a mix of old chandeliers and flickering wall sconces, casts long, jagged shadows across the space, accentuating its normally meticulous, almost regal ambiance. Tonight, however, the setting feels askew.
Books lie scattered on the dark oak desk in a disarray unusual for Evelyn, whose precision usually extends to every corner of her life. A half-filled crystal decanter sits precariously at the edge of the desk, its contents a deep crimson—a mix of blood and mortal intoxication. The rich scent of it mingles with the sharp bite of whiskey, forming a strangely alluring, heady aroma.
Evelyn herself reclines on a high-backed armchair near the fireplace, her usual poise replaced by a rare looseness in her posture. Her dark, flowing attire clings to her as if she had carelessly draped herself into the seat. Her piercing gray eyes, normally sharp and calculating, now seem hazy, the faintest flicker of vulnerability breaking through the icy facade. She cradles a delicate glass in one hand, swirling its contents with a languid motion, her other hand draped loosely over the chair’s arm.
The room radiates an odd tension, as if the air itself has shifted in response to her state. Alexander Kane steps in, the sound of his footsteps muted by the thick carpet, his disciplined demeanor contrasting sharply with Evelyn’s rare display of indulgence. His presence draws her attention, and she regards him with a slow, measured gaze, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
“Well, Alexander,” she says, her voice slightly slurred but still carrying its trademark silkiness. “I don’t often entertain guests in such... states, but tonight appears to be an exception. Do tell me—what urgent matter has dragged you into this den of iniquity?”
The scene crackles with the promise of unpredictability. Evelyn’s drunken state is a departure from the cold, magisterial force Alexander knows her to be, and it leaves him to question whether this vulnerability is an opportunity or a perilous trap.
"Hello, Mother. You seem... well." - Alexander hesitates. He is tense. She seems more approachable in this state, but certainly more unpredictable too. "I have been on the trail you set me. Found some unnerving evidence. It seems the vampire Elijah saw being taken by the Order's operatives was Mateo, a Deimos who lived at the docks. Mateo was probably taken because of what he stole - an arcane object, but he has strong evidence that high ranking member's of the Epitaph Order have been in contact with human hunting - vampire hunting - agencies."
Evelyn’s smirk deepens, her glass poised mid-sip. “Ah, Mateo,” she murmurs, the name rolling off her tongue with a hint of disdain. “A Deimos skulking about the docks—how poetic. And the Order... consorting with hunters.” Her expression sharpens briefly, like a blade glinting in firelight. “That’s treachery most foul, even for them.”
"Is it, though?" - Kane asks, when she mentions treachery. "We constantly manipulate mortals. If the Order is manipulating hunters... why is that particularly treacherous?" - Alexander isn't a fan of the Epitaph Order, but he does believes in truth.
Evelyn chuckles, low and throaty, her glass clinking softly against the armrest as she sets it down. “Oh, Alexander, manipulation is a dance, not a war cry,” she replies, her voice laced with sardonic amusement. “Hunters aren’t pawns; they’re weapons. When you play with them, you risk them turning on you—and not just you, but all of us.”
Her gaze narrows, a flicker of steel cutting through her intoxicated demeanor. “If the Order is truly doing this, they’re either desperate, foolish, or both. And in their desperation, they risk dragging us all into the fire. That’s the treachery, my dear.”
"I see." - Alexander mutters. "It's compelling evidence, but circunstancial. Names, dates, times of meeting, places. No pictures, though. And I still haven't found that indicates that Mateo knew what the meetings were about, but I grabbed some of his belongings before leaving and I'll analyse if further when possible."
Evelyn nods slowly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass as if lost in thought. “Names, dates, places... a trail of whispers,” she muses, her voice softer now but still carrying an edge. “It’s something, but not enough to convict—or to protect, should the Order catch wind of your meddling.”
Her eyes narrow, sharp despite the drunken haze. “Mateo’s belongings might hold more than you expect. The Deimos are skilled at hiding truths in shadows. Look carefully, Alexander—every detail might be a key.” She leans back with a sigh, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “And be swift. The longer you linger, the more dangerous this game becomes.”
Kane hesitates for a brief momment. "Perhaps you could use your contacts too, Mother? See what comes up."
Evelyn arches a brow, her smirk returning with a faintly amused edge. “Oh, my dear Alexander, delegating tasks to me now, are we?” she teases, her tone laced with mock reproach. “But very well. I suppose I could nudge a few strings, see which ones snap.”
She picks up her glass again, swirling its contents before taking a languid sip. “I’ll see what I can uncover about the Order’s dealings—and perhaps Mateo’s fate. But remember, Alexander,” she leans forward, her tone sharpening, “favors are never given freely, even between us.”
"I am aware, Mother. Thank you." - and Kane approaches, kissing the back of her hand gently in a sign of respect, before moving to leave her Haven.
So we got to see Mother drunk and, probably because of that, she agreed to dig around about what the Order has been doing. That was a great investment of our time. Now Alexander has to go to the the University.