StarDestroyer.Net BBS

New Orleans

A city that never sleeps, New Orleans is a perfect spot for Vampires. The city leans towards the Camarilla, however it is still open to anyone. The Prince, Darian, a Tremere, is very open with his city. As long as you do not break the veil, you are welcome.

The Eye of Horrus is a local club/bar/eatery that caters to norms and Vampires. The owner, Anna Bruck, is the Ventrue elder currently. She has lived here for over 75 years and is well established. She was offered the Primogen position, but turned it down. The Eye, well recognized by the large Eye of Horrus painted on the front, caters to all ages. It has a club that books many new acts. The bar is quieter, more for the older crowd. And the restaurant is one of the best in the French Quarter. There is a section of the Eye that is for Vampires only. Ms. Bruck caters to all of her Vampire guests as well.

The Eye is not the only place Ms. Bruck owns. She also has a large antiques store in town. She has placed many of the things she has found on her digs as an archeologist on sale. She also can get special orders.

She also owns a rather different museum. It hosts inventions of all sorts. For example, she has one of the first x-ray machines, and more recently, she has a collection of computers, direct from Gates' and Jobs' garage. The museum is also an Elysium.

Hm...a nice opener. The only thing I don't like is the capitilization of the word "vampire", but that's just a personal preference.

I hope you're feeling better today.

The Eye of Horrus takes up an entire block in the French Quarter. The restaurant takes up one corner. Colin, Anna's prize bartender, oversees the kitchen. It is his pride and joy. He offers many different delicasies. It is a four star restaurant and is the envy of many others in New Orleans, including Emeril Lagassi.

The center of the block holds the bar. The centerpiece is a large statue of Horrus in the middle of the room. Anna brought it all the way back from Cairo many years ago. There are many Egyptian hyroglyphs on the walls and furniture. However, there is one thing missing, something very... Egyptian. There are no snakes. There are, however, many depictions of the gods, Osiris, Isis, Horrus, and Anubis.

At the very back is a huge bar that runs the width of the room. It is carved from dark woods and has a black marble countertop. There is an Egyptian mural behind the bar where normally a mirror would be. Just above the mural is a long, sheathed sword. Rumor has it that Anna knows how to use it rather well.

Last, the club. It looks deceivingly small on the outside, but the inside is incredible. It is two stories high and has a stage on one end. Most nights, the stage is covered with the dj's equipment. There are huge speakers everywhere. A smaller bar is off to the side with several tables and lounges. The dance floor has lights under it that pulse with the music. Weekly, up and coming bands perform. Many have gone on to make a name for themselves.

Oh, good, but I would like too add New Orleans does sleep mostly. Except for all the invading teens and in the ghettos.

W00000000000T!!! A fic about my home town!!!! BRING IT ON KELLY!

Sounds very nice so far...
A Tremere is the prince? How old is he? Since I am Tremere, might I know him a bit?

I have an idea of wht I will post, but that is for later. I hoep you will like.

(post here when you can get together so we can actually have a session. I'd like to actually do something soon.)

Joshua followed Michael to The Eye of Horus. He did his best to stay in the shadows, and as far back as possible. His trench coat flowed out behind him as the wind blew softly, silently. Michael seemed nervous, always lookingh behind him, to the sides. Joshua had no idea what was going on. He had no idea what caused him to leave Albuquerque.

He watched as Michael entered the restaurant. Michael was wearing a dark suit, blending in nicely with the outside surroundings. Joshua loved the way this suit looke don him, and he knew that Michael knew it. He wondered why Michael was wearing it, of all his clothes. Perhaps because Michael was thinking about him?

Michael stepped in the doorway, making one last look around him. His eyes hesitated in Joshua's direction. Joshua fell back further into the shadows, hoping that Michael had not seen him. As soon as the entrance doors had shut, Joshua stepped out of the shadows, just as wary as Michael had been. Was there someone following his lover? He walked smoothly, calmly to the restaurant. He peeked in one of the windows. Michael was being shown to a table of other fanciful men and women. He debated for a moment whether to go in, and decided against it, hanging out at the wondow for a few minutes more. If those other men and women were vampires as well, and Michael somehow let on, who knows what would happen?

Anna stolled through the restaurant. She spoke to the patrons she knew, smiling all the time. She wore a black dress suit with a white blouse. Her eyes scanned the room, picking out new patrons of a certain... type.

She saw the young man be seated and looked at his aura. Her head tilted a bit as she began to make her way over to him. "Welcome to the Eye of Horrus." She smiled broadly.

Dachlan walked aimlessly though the streets of New Orleans.
His quirky memory had again played with him. One moment, he was out for preying, the next moment a sound or maybe a scent, he wasn't sure, had triggered his memory again. Most of the times it was a useful tool, but more often than not it was a nuisance, and seldomly a nightmare come alive. He relived the whole disaster of his Sire's death. Every detail of it. Burning flesh, the death screams. His anger and his loss.

When he regained control of himself again, he found himself leaning on the wall in a dark sidestreet, his whole body still trembling slightly.

He composed himself again and didn't know where to go and what to do. His mind was busy elsewhere, trying to analyze this latest flash for the hundredth time, maybe he has overseen something, missed a clue?
No. He failed. As always.

After what must have been an hour of walking, his dreamlike gaze caught a huge eye. Normally he didn't like clubs all too much. Maybe I'm too old for that...
But tonight he just felt like it. After entering he had to smile at the huge statue in the midst of it. One heck of an interior design.
He strolled through it for a short while, and sat himself at an empty table somewhere in the back of the club, studying the residents and was mildly surprised by the numbers of vampires present.

Anton Menschikoff was new in New Orleans, having recently arrived to the United States. Everything new was potentailly dangerous, so he thought it would be better to move slowly. He had patience and time to work things out. "There's no need for rush..." his sire had reminded him several times and it was a lesson he had learned well.

First he would need to make contacts with the members of the local Camarilla -- preferebly Ventrue -- to create a foundation for his business. He barely knew anyone in New Orleans, but he had been told about a place called The Eye of Horrus that was favored by many vampires.

At the front door leading to the club part of the Eye, he saw a number of people standing in a queue waiting to get inside. Surprisingly many of them were vampires. It was obvously a popular place. 'Perhaps this country ain't that different from Russia after all,' he thought, hiding his smile. After a while he got in.

The dance floor was covered by ecstatic dancers. There were so many vampires in the club, and he couldn't simply walk to them and say something, or could he? He spent some time sitting in the lounge, just observing each of them from a distance and contemplating the matters.

The motorcycle cut through some of the cobbled streets of New Orleans as it made its way through the interior of the old city. Jack Reece watched the pedestrians walk by through inky black shades that betrayed nothing of the crimson eyes beneath. He waited patiently at each street light, ignoring the random acts of rebelious teenagers and college age students that had not yet realized that acting loud and obnoxious only drew the wrong kind of attention and doing so did not make you a man.

He finally managed to weave his way through the thick crowds in the French Quarter, ignoring the swagger of some street punks, wondering if any might be Brujah looking for a fight. He could care less. He had nothing to prove to anyone. The cold steel strapped to his back, a gift, was a constant reminder of a sire that he wished had met Final Death but knew that God would never give him that satisfaction.

He stopped his motorcycle at the curb by the Eye of Horus. As he killed the engine and kicked out the stand he examined the surroundings. You could always tell where kindred congregated. Too many beautiful people, not enough ugly or plain folk. He noted that his kind (it still pained him to think that he was now one of them) appreciated beauty overall. In the end, being immortal meant nothing if you did not look goods while doing it. At first he thought this was a Toreador trait, but as he had traveled the country he realized this was a common failing.

Unless you were Nosferatu. He smiled grimly. But then again, they didn't have much of a choice, did they?

He checked his holster. His 9mm sat snugly underneath his left armpit. He gave himself even odds on whether it was confiscated at the door, but he had a feeling that this city wouldn't be as paranoid as New York. New York was under siege by the Sabbat and the Camarilla was not taking any chances, particularly with wandering Gangrel whose sires had reputations for kicking ass and taking names.

He shrugged as he slid off the bike and checked his surroundings one more time, a habit that had served him well in the special forces and did not go away now.

He knew the deal. You were new to a city it was best to present yourself. He was not into formality so he had the habit of simply going to the happening night spot for his kind and letting himself be spotted there. If a Prince was a stiff (Ventrue usually) he might get shit for not doing it formally, but usually he was left alone. No need to piss of a childe of Geoffrey D'Anjou.

The name still pissed him off to no end. Bastard.

He had refrained from coming to this city for one simple reason. His family. They still lived here and he was still uncertain as to whether he should see them. He did not know how he would react if he saw her again. Would he ignore the masquerade and try to touch her smooth skin again, breath the scent that moved him so?

He simply did not know.

He entered the Eye of Horus and hoped for the best.

A blonde woman stood at the front door of the club. She watched everyone entering. At a casual glance, she looked like a beautiful Hitler youth. But to those who could see her aura, they knew she was Nosferatu... Vampire. She was also very wary.

The night was young and there were many more than the usual vampires around. She had watched several new people enter. Those she would watch carefully. It wouldn't do for something bad to happen in the Eye.

She looked towards the restaurant and smiled. She saw her sire mingling with the crowd, picking out the new blood just as she was doing. They had been together so long and knew each other so well. She pulled her eyes back to watch the crowd.

Alec moved swiftly and silently through the back streets and alleys of the Big Easy. His expensive clothes were rumpled and dirty, his small satchel clutched tight. The only sound in the still, humid air was the clap of his shoes on the broken pavement. Ever flash of movement, any little sound and he snapped to attention.

He had hunted these streets for a life or more. No the tables had turned. The hunters, mortal and immortal, had pursued him, of that he was sure. Ever since he had one this damn book in a game of blackjack he had been stalked by agents of the Giovanni.

Slipping into one last alley he made it to the Eye of Horus and Anna. A pang of guilt ran through him. What right had he to endanger Anna, to wager her life on his gamble. But he realized she would want to help. And the book would certainly intrigue her.

He wandered through the back of the club, he knew most of the employees. Alec nooded and greeted a few politely as he went looking for Anna. He had been away for nearly a year and missed her terribly.

Alec wandered into the club, noting all the vampires and studying them. A few he knew already, a few he didn't. His face lit up as he spied Anna, a small frown materializing on his face when he saw Katiana. He made his way over to Anna.

"Hello, my darling" He said to Anna with a smile on his face.

Anna turned at the sound of the voice. A smile spread across her face and she wrapped her arms tightly around the young man. "Oh Alec! You're back! I thought you were going to be gone for a while."

"I was..." Alec kisses Anna, his arms wrapping around her "but my plans got changed. We need to talk some where private"

He eyes the bar patrons, undead and living with equal suspicion. He seizes the satchel and holds it tight.

"We've got to talk about it would be best not to do it here."

Anna looked at her beloved childe, wondering what was going on. She was not about to second guess him, however. Quickly, she led him to her offices.

The night was young and heavy with the scent of people. Walking the streets on his nightly rounds Oswald peered through the darkened windows of the bookstores, seeking a volume of some value.

He pauses for a moment as an intoxicating smell fills the air, the scent of blood, and even more than that, the strong odour of nearby vampires. Young ones. Looking down a nearby alley he sees several men fighting. Anyone else may have been fooled, but for those with the knowledge it was plain to see that these were new Brujah, barely 20 years since the embrace, still living a violent life. It sickens him to see the old ways abandoned, knowledge and learning abandoned for recklessness and mayhem.

Skitting across the road with alarming celerity in a moment he is in the midst of the fight. Quickly his presence brings to a halt the offensive of the young Brujahs. The men they were fighting run off. "Now young ones, you really should know better by now."
"Be quiet old man." The young Brujah is catapulted across the alleyway and into the wall opposite with a single strike.
"I may be an old man, but I am also a much older vampire than YOU. So show some respect or next time I'll stake you for a decade. Now move along and don't let me see you spurning our great clans name by involving yourself in such petty ruckus' as this again." Oswald turns and walks off. None of the younglings would dare lay a hand on him, they knew that the wrath that he could summon, not just from within him, but from many others in the city and country would be great.

Kelly Antilles wrote:Anna stolled through the restaurant. She spoke to the patrons she knew, smiling all the time. She wore a black dress suit with a white blouse. Her eyes scanned the room, picking out new patrons of a certain... type.

She saw the young man be seated and looked at his aura. Her head tilted a bit as she began to make her way over to him. "Welcome to the Eye of Horrus." She smiled broadly.

Michael was seated by Anna, and he sat with the large group of people. He saw the woman walk away, back to the front of the restaurant. He watched her for a minute, and turned back to the table. He had to discuss business.

He was thinking about Joshua, though. He knew someone was following him, but didn't know who. He wanted it to be Joshua, out of love, but he wanted Joshua to stay behind, for quite the same reason. He knew that if Joshua didn't stay in Albuquerque, both of them, would be in great danger. He regretted not telling Joshua why he shouldn't come to New Orleans.



Joshua saw Anna seat Michael and wondered what he was thinking. He knew this had to be some big deal; there were vampires from practicaly every clan: Malkavians, Ventrues, Toreadors, Gangrels, Nosferatus...

Joshua wanted to be with Michael so bad, to touch him, to kiss him. But he knew he should wait a bit longer. No, he couldn't wait. So he stepped around to the front of the building. Hesitating, he opened the door, quietly. He did not want to disturb Michael, although he knew that Michqael would know his presence as soon as he stepped inside. And as he did, he saw Michael's form slump down.



Michael thought to himself, Why? Why did he have to come here? Now we will both be in greater danger than we were before. I will tell him as soon as I can get to him outside the sight of these ones. He did, of course, make sure to shield his mind. The only one he ever let his guard down to was Joshua himself, and the Prince.

*A young-looking man wearing a black suit walks through the front door of the Eye of Horus, dropping off a small bag with the waiter, an old acquaintance. Containing his "knick-knacks" for fleecing the gullible masses who wanted their fortunes told, it wasn't necessary here among the others.*

"Anyone interesting tonight, mon ami?"

"A couple new people, most of the usuals."

*He nodded and wandered to the bar, sitting near one end, ordering a bourbon, and watching the other patrons as he nursed the drink.*

After Dachlan was sitting for quite some time, assessing the people and vampires in the room when his gaze fell on a strickinly beautiful young woman. The world is such a small place, especially for vampires it seems.
Though she was amiably chatting with a young man, he thought it was prudent to renew an old acquaintance.
He had an easy time striding through the throng of people, since most people subconsiously gave him a wide berth.

But when he reached the position he had seen her, she was gone. Quizically, he looked around, but he couldn't make her out.
Well, she'll be around soon I think...
So he seated himself at the nearest table, and waited.

Anton sighed deeply. There were too many vampires around and as a newcomer he didn't want to arouse unneccessary attention. Compared to the vampires of the "old world", these Kindred seemed definetely more outspoken and less-reserved...

Feeling restless, he went for a little stroll across the Eye, admiring the beautiful Egyptian-themed interior decoration. Ancient history had always fascinated Anton. 'A Tremere would probably get kicks from this place,' he mused to himself as he studied the slender form of a bird-shaped hieroglyf. 'Life would be so easier as one of those pervertic artists.'

A pale figure slowly moved up the dark street towards the Eye of Horus. The man ranted and raved to unseen ghosts in his head as he teatered about, making gestures and occasionally laughing as he talked and walked the lonely avenue. Behind him flowed a tattered and dirty old black satin cape, the material danced with the raving lunatic, casting ghostly shadows upon the buildings he passed. He wore rough black leather pants with a worn out old pair of black leather loafers on his feet. His shirt was a tattered and dirty white poet shirt, the billowing front and arms rippled about him as the cuffs and neck weren't threaded closed. A silver cross hung round his neck by a silver chain. The crucifix lay on his shirt, burning his flesh whenever it touched. Beneath his arm he carried three tattered books. The books paper was yellow with age and the leather covers were covered with candle was. Upon first glance one may fancy they were originals of whatever ancient knowledge they held.

His face glowed softly in the moonlight, only the shadows covering the ivory shine to his features. He had a pronounced checkbone and chin that lay obscured by scraggly tufts of white hair that had been hurriedly trimmed. His strong brow lead into his deep eyes, the metallic blue eyes always holding an odd lost yet penetrating quality to them. His long silver hair slinked behind him, the locks were netted with knots and dirt. Where he well kept, the man would certianly have looked like nobility from an age long past, but rather his demenure and looks merely made the ranting malkavian look like a homeless scholar.

He pushed into the Eye of Horus, his voice grew silent as he looked around. The stance that he fell into was more animal than human, his body wound up, almost as if he were going to strike. He scoufed at the presence of the unfamiliar kindred, his eyes burning a hole into every persons soul one by one until his gaze fell upon Anna, a smile first appeared before a dark laugh erupted from his being.

I should have come here some time before. Quite some entertainment, he thought as he looked closer at all the folk in the club and waited for Ms. Bruck to re-emerge from whereever she vanished to.
Even some local Tremere if he was not mistaken...