Memoirs - 05/17/97
The Conclave: The Gathering of the Kindred

Despite my extensive political background, I have never actually attended a conclave. The gathered kindred were presented to the city's new Prince, a fellow Spaniard, by the name of Armando, a very handsome yet simple man. The conclave was generously held at his private residence. Although only a few kindred actually attended, it was, I believe, an altogether impressive event. I met many of those there, but very few were actually as interesting enough as to leave a lasting impression upon me. I was greatly disappointed that I met less than a mere handful of fellow Malkavians. Where were my clan brothers?

I found myself later in the evening conversing with a blind Nosferatu woman. I believe her name was Ofera. The poor wretch quickly took me into her confidence and told me much of her life. Afterward, somewhat pitied, I felt obligated to share some of my history, as well. She claims to be a "survivor" of the Holocaust atrocity. She lost her eyes as a result of the cruel experiments conducted upon her by the resident nazi physicians. She also informed me that she possesses the unique ability to sense danger or dangerous intentions. Her horrible ordeal may have evolved her senses to a superior level. Curious, that may come in very useful to me, I will do well to keep her very close-by.

I also met and briefly spoke with the Prince of Jersey City, a chilling man. His presence left an uncomfortable feeling in the air. There is far more to him than meets the average eye. A bear out of its den is usually hunting. He should be watched, and carefully.

There is an enigmatic individual named Martin, whose name was tossed around by many - yet, who he is, wants or does, is unknown to me. But that will change.

Then there was Marko, a fellow Malkavian, as beautiful as my once dark lover. A strange paranoia seems to curtain him, unfortunately; an obsession that he is being watched or that others are upon him. He is an investigator of sorts, and a novice chemist with an interest in poisons. It may prove beneficial to me to keep this young demon under my wing, as well.

Although there were only officially two of us, we had to choose a representative for our clan before the night was over. He & I decided to flip a coin. It seemed to us, to be the most logical, unbiased way to decide who was better suited to speak for our clan. I won, of course. There would have been no other acceptable outcome.

In a private meeting with the Prince, I & the other newly elected clan representatives were told what was expected of us and the members of our clans, and were assigned feeding grounds. Luckily, my Asylum falls neatly into the grounds assigned to the Malkavians. Armando also informed us that no new kindred or ghouls are to be made without his permission. At a later private interval, I informed the Prince of "Father". I thought it would be best to let him know upfront about my ghoul, rather than discover it upon his own and assume I was hiding him. After the meeting, Marko and I built a house out of my business cards upon the meeting table and discussed what I had heard, and was told.

Unfortunately, it was at this time that I was paged from the Asylum and had to leave early. A patient has escaped. I have placed myself in a position from where I can do much to accomplish my desires. I must make allies quickly, and dispatch my enemies even faster. The others are useless and of no interest to me. I am the sun to the Darkness, and she alone commands my will. She alone will lead me back to the light...

Memoirs - 11/09/97
The Before
Things have been quiet since the conclave, fortunately. That has given me time for several necessary preparations. Construction on the asylum is finally finished. I now "live" in a virtual fortress.

Most of it has been redesigned to resemble a large church, including some quite dramatic stain-glass windows, that I have acquired over the years. I have armed my 12, with nightsticks and tranquilizers. I am pursuing the possibility of turning certain members of my staff into a herd, or even, at one point turning them all into Ghouls. I have begun work on my first pet project - "Dawn's Kiss" - a sweet little mixture of chemicals designed to release that certain fire in a Kindred's soul.

James is still sending his sweet little love letters. I will have to address this matter. He is beginning to annoy me, but I cannot deny the fact that he can be a very potent ally. I have kept in touch with the other Malkavian that I had met at the conclave. In fact, I have convinced Marco to assist me in my project, as I intend to expand the laboratory of my Haven. He possesses a unique child like quality that makes him almost trustable. Therefore, in theory, that means he CANNOT be trusted. The first slip-up he makes, he dies.

The Auction
The kindred were cordially invited to an auction at Kearny. Armando politely urged us to attend. I have often found myself giving up much of my time, money and effort to various charities. I was actually looking forward to the event, especially after receiving the Auction Hall's invitation and the impressive list of items and artifacts up for sale. I was incredibly happy to see so many other kindred at the auction. Marco attended. He brought along "Billy", a simplistic hand-puppet of Beelzebub, that I have often used during therapy sessions with my patients. He spent the entire night rambling with it. Ofera was there; I was glad to see she had managed to make her way safely to the auction hall. Xavier (Gen-X), the Brujah Clan Representative was also at the auction. The poor dear seemed somewhat out of place.

As I was inspecting the items up for auction, I seem to remember, a strange event; a man, walking with the aid of a cane, growled at me. Had I done something to offend him?

The auction was going quite well, a great deal of money was being raised. Then, Chaos showed its trump card. A glorious man, with lunacy in his eyes, and madness in his heart wanted to dance with the hungry night jackals... and dance most divinely he did. He pulled from his jacket, a gun, and in his hands grabbed the auction's beautiful receptionist as a hostage. Her screams swept fear and terror through the gathered mortals like a great wave sweeping over the shore and scattering the burning hot grains of sand. I must confess, it gave me a tingly warm feeling in the "heart". Then the brave and courageous heroes decided to pull out their weapons and shoot at the little spider and his fly.

The Auctioneer was shot and killed.

Another mortal was wounded.

The hostage flung herself into a corner.

Later, I tried to Dominate her mind into a state of relaxation, and it seemed to be temporarily successful. Marco reacted instinctively by pulling out his weapon, as did the detective that I had met and spoken with earlier. (Side note - the detective had come to the auction to speak with me in regards to my missing patient, Michael Kos. We spoke briefly, and I informed him that I believed that Michael had violent tendencies, even more so now, since he was off his medication.)

Within seconds, the situation at the auction was silenced; the mad mortal (which I now suspect was on Canary, a potent new drug being circulated on the streets) was dead, (a shame his bodied was destroyed, he would have made a glorious Malkavian.) My detective was also killed. (I will now have to look for another possible contact within the police - DAMN - I hate when others interfere with my plans.)

Now that I remember; there was a certain kindred at the auction. He was tall and imposing, and tried to take charge of the situation. He might have been the sheriff of Kearny. I may be mistaken, but he seemed far too anxious to cover things up. I believe that he knew what was going to happen. Could this individual somehow benefit from a strife between Kearny and the Palisades? Hmmm... Why do I see images of Jersey City in my mind? Could the Prince there be responsible? Could he possess links with Sabbat that have gone unnoticed? Could the assailant from the auction originated there? I seem to have many questions, to which answers must be found.

I have to add, that Marco, was so pleased with his performance, that he has decided to take on the role of my protector and bodyguard. How cute. He used to be a member of the F.B.I. He may be able to supply me with the answers I seek.

Oh, but wait, Sweet Chaos was not finished with us yet. She had far more planned for this enchanting evening of bidding. Armando barged in, along with his Sheriff, Claudius, a large and intimidating Nosferatu. Claudius grabbed a stunning woman from the crowd and left with her in his arms. Armando scolded the gathered Kindred for their hasty and uncontrolled behavior. Before we realized what happened, the mortals were all dead, and the auction house was set ablaze. All inside was destroyed. Glorious. Wonderfully glorious.

We were told to meet at Armando's home within the hour. This, I believe, was a drastic overreaction to the situation.

The After
And so, an hour later, we arrived at Armando's home. Ofera and I sat together, as usual. She and I compared notes as to what had happened at the auction. I have discovered that Ofera's sensitivity breaches the physical world. She sensed a great energy emitting from one of the items up for sale at the auction - a stained-glass window depicting an epic battle between good & evil, recovered from a church that had burned to ground (Ironic - how it was lost again in another building that also has been burned to the ground, after an emotional struggle of wills between good and evil.) This fact terrified Ofera, but fascinated me. Ofera believed that the window was not destroyed, but rather it merely... vanished - turning itself into ashes.

I believe that there is no such thing as a coincidence. Chaos plays a beautiful symphony, and all its notes are perfectly dropped into place.
There is no chaos in Chaos.

Armando, demanded explanations.

I, and Ofera spent most of the night talking to the others gathered. I met and spoke with the beautiful woman that Claudius had carried out. Her name was Isabella. She and I sat and talked for short while. She too grew up in the beautiful hillsides of Spain. She carries the glimmer of its lakes in her eyes, and the sweet breeze of its skies upon her lips. Her beauty is moving. She seemed distraught and appalled by the current "type" of people gathered at Armando's house. She referred to them as unworthy lowlives. Isabella didn't know who they were... (She was not a KINDRED! She was mortal! Why was she allowed into the meeting hall, while Armando spoke openly about what had happened at the auction? He was placing the masquerade in great peril. Careless. VERY very Careless.) She also had mentioned how he had raised her. I believe that she may be his ward. Regardless, I have found a powerful weapon to use against Armando, should I ever need one. His love for this woman, and his need to protect her will be his undoing. Hmmm, or is it? Perhaps she is merely his pawn in this, to see if any of us would try to actually use her against him; a ploy to discover where our loyalties truly lie. Brilliant.

I have finally met Martin, he is Caitiff, a clan-less Vampire. Caitiff - Interesting, how that word has come to hold so much crazed prejudice and hatred. The others have forgotten the truth that the Caitiff are not clan-less, they are a clan; the clan "Caitiff". Through the centuries, we, the other clans have cut them down, scattered them, and branded them exiles. In truth, we fear them. They are all unique individuals capable of doing unique and individual things. They are as unpredictable as the thunder storm... unlike the rest of us. There is a certain sameness found within all clan members. A Malkavian is a Malkavian is a Malkavian. A Nosferatu is what he is, regardless of what mask hides his face. A Gangrel is a Gangrel, despite the form they take, and a Ventrue is a Ventrue, in or out of their suits. Do not underestimate the "underdog", for it is from their ranks that rebellions are born. Martin was part of the Nazi Regime, and now feels compelled to redeem the horrid acts he performed during his life.

His presence sent Ofera into a fit of wild flashbacks, that threw her into a near-catatonic state (the same had happened to her during the conclave). It took quite some while for me to relax her, and bring her back to her senses. He apologized greatly for what happened, and I believed his sincerity. I did not believe that he wanted to harm Ofera. (I have decided to read more into the Holocaust, and discover what possible smells, sounds, and tastes might trigger a flashback episode in Ofera, should I ever need to incapacitate her, and this Martin - his need for redemption is an open wound to his soul.) Martin has petitioned for acceptance into the Brujah clan.

I have met even more kindred on this evening. A handsome demon named Trent, caught my attention, as did another night-brother, Lexander, who seemed quiet and apart from us. He was a journalist, I believe. He refused, however, to tell me what clan he belonged to, saying that clan distinctions are irrelevant (another Caitiff perhaps?). The Gangrel also had a strong and definite presence this evening. Curious. They growl.

There was violence in the sewers, a Nosferatu, Claudius's prodigy, was beheaded. It is not certain, who or what was responsible for his death, although it is suspected that the Sabbat are behind it. Armando has forbidden anyone to go down into the sewers, so I have offered Ofera the use of my Haven. She graciously accepted. The gentle butterfly has flown itself into my web.

It is worth mentioning that Armando seems to be having difficulty with one of his ghouls (which by the undisciplined behavior he demonstrated suggests to me that he may also be on Canary. Who is behind this new drug? Who is distributing it to the masses? The Sabbat?) It was after this tragic incident, that I decided to inform Armando (as well as Ofera), in private, about my past associations with the Sabbat. I informed him that I know their ways, and may be of use to him. I also told him that their bonding rituals have had no effect on me.

I realize that he will distrust me at first, but that will change.

I will prove my sincerity to him.

I intend to set myself up as his advisor, in matters of the Sabbat, and later in all things.
(I have managed to turn, my possible weakness into a possible foothold of power) I am a GOD.

Now, to deal with James.