Logs:Touching Base

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Touching Base


Characters: Aurelie, Pan
Date: 2019-05-29
Summary: Aurelie joins the ranks of the Primogen Council.
Disclaimers:

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It's two days after Aurelie expressed her interest to the Powers That Be when the text from Conquista del Pan comes in, arranging a meeting in City Park - business, not pleasure, the text makes clear. The meeting is at about one in the morning, long after any steady amount of mortal traffic can be assumed to have gone home and gone to bed. Specifically, Pan's asked Aurelie to meet them at the Rotary Baseball Field, and is currently loitering at home base, the red glow of a joint occasionally flaring. The marijuana doesn't -do- anything for a vampire, but Pan likes the smell, being full of and surrounded by it, so they take in slow drags through their mouth and exhale through their nose.

A ways off, sitting in the stands, a nondescript man in a sharp tailored suit, wearing sunglasses loiters as well.

Aurelie texted back confirmation that she'd be there. When she arrives, it's in a vintage halter dress from the mid-70s in deep red linen -- mostly backless, draping off of her. It hits around mid-calf, a pair of brown strappy leather sandals with cords wrapped up around her ankle and calf. Her hair is left loose and wavy, and she hums as she approaches Pan, following the pot smell with her ultra keen senses until she sees the cherry glow and picks up pace a bit.

Pan is, as is most common, in their standard disheveled uniform of wool duster over rather nondescript clothes worn in an impeccably stylish disarray. When Aurelie comes near, Pan shoots her a toothy grin, and holds out the joint for her to take if she'd like. "So," they say, "I just about shit my pants when the fucking seneschal to fucking Dominic Aelius shows up out of fucking nowhere and says she's got a job for me. Says I'm supposed to tell you that your request's been approved, 'cause you want to be the new Circle Primogen, and I'm supposed to give you the rundown and see if you pass the test."

Aurelie reaches for the joint, taking it between her delicate fingers and raising it to her lips. She draws in a little hit of it, tasting the smoke and handing it back. When Pan begins to speak, Aurelie returns his grin and glances over to the man in the stands briefly before she peers back at the young Daeva. "Oh, a test! My favorite. I hope it's not a foot race," Aurelie says to Pan with a deadpan expression.

"No, it's mostly how willing are you to trade autonomy for power, I think? I think it's like...a power play on their part. Something they do to see if you're going to be easy to get to agree to fucked up shit to seize influence. If you're willing to do this, they figure later on, you'll be willing to do other shit for them, and that it'll give them influence over you." Pan reaches into a pocket and pulls out a little glass vial with a rubber stopper filled with a liquid so dark red it's almost black. They hold it up to Aurelie, offered. "This has just a little bit of the blood of Dominic Aelius, Theresa von Kriger, and Erica Hartford. You agree to drink this, you're in, I answer any questions you've got about what a Primogen can and can't do and what your responsibilities are, then I go hang a piece of paper where everyone can see it and a bunch of ghouls send out letters to everyone who's anyone and it's official. You don't? And that guy in the sunglasses on the bleachers back there comes down, you look him in the eye, and he convinces you that you got cold feet for some other reason and that's what you remember with nothing about the blood. If this is the first vampire blood you've tasted? I warn you, brace yourself, you're not gonna wanna go back to the human stuff, so."

Aurelie watches Pan with narrowed eyes. It's not unkind but it is calculating. The blood in that vial is viewed almost like a challenge. She runs her tongue over her teeth, instinctively remembering the taste of the terrible stuff from her days as a ghoul and under her Sire's thumb. It's not an active addiction, but you never, ever forget the taste. Pan can probably see it, he recognition in her eyes. The Gangrel takes the blood from the Primogen's fingers and she pulls out the rubber stopper. "What's that about breaking a few eggs to bake a cake?" She says, eyebrow quirked as she looks at the addictive vitae between her fingers. Then, she slams it like a shot of tequila. Once the blood's gone, the man in the suit stands up, and jogs down the bleachers to disappear in the night.

Pan pushes their hands into the pockets of their coat, thumbs stuck out. "Welcome to the ranks, Primogen Fontenot. It is my pleasure to inform you that you now have the authority to appoint people to vacant city positions, issue any punishment for infractions against Praxis law that you wish up to but -not- including blood hunts and executions, the right to approve Embraces within your Covenant, to award territory to your Covenant members, and to formally petition the Triumvirate to append, add, alter, or abolish Praxis law although I will note that they will probably judge you for it and likely won't listen because they're diiiiiicks. You're also a point of contact to acknowledge new arrivals in your Covenant and bring them officially into the Praxis."

Aurelie listens to all of that, and then she snorts with a laugh -- clearly amused at the fact that she had slammed all of that blood and then heard her duties. They surprise her more than underwhelm her, and she lifts her chin a touch with. "I see. I always thought Blood Hunts and executions were a bit.. much. I'm mostly anti-death penalty, you know?" She says, her tone airy and light -- sweeping her hand out of her hair and tucking it behind her ear. "I appreciate your time, Pan." She inclines her head, and looks off to the distance. The Gangrel is a little shaken at her new addiction, perhaps not having prepared herself for the level of crack addict like want. "I gotta get out of here. Lets meet up somewhere not in public with creepy running agents of our new overlords lurking about, yeah?" She doesn't trust he's gone.

"Yeah. Text me?" The Carthian glances over their shoulder toward the stands, peering after the departed anonymous agent of the Triumvirate.