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California was a sight to behold at night. The gentle, warm breeze coming from the ocean west, only miles away. Salty yet sweet. Contradictions swept up into your undead nose.
You had just moved here not too long ago, to make a name for yourself in the “Eureka!” state. Most of your money was spent on the move and the only semi-dingy apartment available for rent in downtown Los Angeles. You were used to the high-end housing back home, but your next option was living above a pawnshop. Caine only knows what sort of filth traversed through those streets.
The local kindred didn’t know how ready you were to hustle them out.
Back home you were an unstoppable force, faceless and nameless yet everyone knew who you were. Those that got out of your good graces feared your calculated moves. Chess on a game of checkers.
They’d laugh if they saw you now.
Since you’ve left home, there hasn’t been a peep about your history, except for the Camarilla presence you brought. Perfect for making a new name in a new city. You had already caught the attention of the recently made Prince, him declaring that your knowledge is invaluable and his unlife would be easier with the two of you allied. In private, the two of you disowned the images of allies, his flirtatious nature keeping you both occupied.
Tonight though, like most nights, was not unfamiliar to you. Sebastian Lacroix had requested you to the theatre downtown. He had mentioned kindred politics being different from your original station, given the very recent history of his rise to power, the local Anarchs, so on and so forth. In between the romantic gestures and the kisses he kept private for the both of you, he’d be interrupted with such adversaries. Rarely did it ever ruin the night though.
You were the last to arrive at the theatre tonight. Walking to your seat, the other kindred in the lobby whispered amongst themselves as to what could the prince have to show this sample of California tonight?
Eyes from around the inner walls watched you, there were a few of the other kindred you’ve met recently- Therese Voerman, Strauss, the LA Anarchs- some you held contact with. The peace you were vouching for under Sebastian’s rule would have to come another day.
The stage was simply comical for tonight’s meeting, the formality only setting in as the main overhead lights dimmed, with the spotlights moving to the main stage area. Curtains once closed, slowly inched open as the blond man stood in his suit off to the side, looking out to the seating before him. His icy blue eyes were focused, hands clasped, face familiar. They swiped over the entirety of the interior before landing on you, a nod coming from him when he realized he had also caught yours. Before looking away he adjusted his tie. A nervous tick almost well-concealed. Despite him being a century your senior, you learned that he still had his human habits. You weren’t complaining though, it just made him all the more appealing.
Off to the other side of the stage moved the Sheriff. His sword was huge, and just barely inches above the stage floor as he walked in. There were other two figures behind him with another kindred being dragged to the center stage. The captive is forced on their knees abruptly like a singular drumbeat, the keepers quickly removing the stakes from their heart. Velvet Velour, who sat a row in front of you, gasps at the sight.
Despite your greenness to L.A. kindred politics, you were already well versed in what would play out next. Not a trial but a public display of power. Ventrue Prince, Sebastian Lacroix was once again claiming what was rightfully his like every night prior.
He walks across the front of the pair, and begins his speech. Lacroix doesn’t sway, doesn’t lose tempo as he projects the crimes of the accused in the room. No one moves as he bows down to the unknown kindred and then stands back. The Anarch woman in front of you gasps again and brings her arms up as the sword comes swinging down, granting the final death. She blocks a portion of the stage, limiting the stage view, but you catch Lacroix again as he speaks.
He looks towards you once more, before bidding everyone goodnight and retreating backstage. Tension hung heavy in the room for the remainder of the spectacle, the Anarchs the first to leave.
You had other plans though.
The door leading to the outer hallway around the stage creaked open as you pushed. If you were quick enough, you could catch your midnight snack right around the corner.
Another door squealed as it opened, calm and expensive shoes hitting the concrete. You hear the noise of the other being, exhaling the breath he doesn’t need as he turns to walk around the corner you are not so conspicuously hiding behind.
You giggle as he passes you, before he gracefully twirls around to the sound of your voice. He smirks as his eyes land on you for the third time this night. His hands reach out and grab you as if he’s posing for a dance. Despite being business partners, these are the favorite moments between you two. The time that only you two get before transitioning into the next event, the next step to securing the future in your unlives. The only moments where your positions mean nothing.
He leans down to kiss you gently as he holds you. No blush of life needed to feel how much love and appreciation you bring him, no matter how alive it makes you feel. He’s the first to separate as he speaks to you.
“I see you arrived as I asked. Thank you, mon cher.” His face a smile as his hands gently cup your cheeks before he slides them down your shoulders to your own. Sebastian turns to the side as he motions towards the door, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Come, my darling, we still have work to do,” as he guides you both to the door, closing another chapter behind you.