No air stirred the leaves of trees and bushes along the street. No sound pierced the eerily siletn night. All was dead and still. A slow, thin fog wafted along the deserted road. The occasional car did pass by, but then all was quiet again. There was nothing to suggest that what some would call the foulest of creatures walking - or perhaps even stalking - the Earth would soon make an appearance, if an unnoticed one.

Their footsteps made no sounds upon the tar and dirt and gravel of the alleyway. They seemed not even shadows, and then only as shadows as the entered the street and turned into the door that seemed only a wall to those mortal unnish who might be watching. For those that might listen, the brief and greatly muted sound of distant and unrecognizable music flowed as the door opened and closed.

The shadows walked along the long, dark corridor until they came to a second door, and there they knocked. The slot slid open, revealing brown eyes and skin. The slot slid closed and the door was opened. They were in.

It had been almost four years now since Anastus Bakalov had come into possession of the business card that had led him to the Triskelle. The man, he had said, was an agent of a local diety, and there had been no falsehood in his words. When he and his wife, Aurelia Marinos, had first come to the place, they had taken to it immediately. This was not the place for a fourteen-year-old girl, of course, so Erika had never been here and probably never would, but all others connected with the vampires that now waded through the dense crowd of the underground innish club had been.

The jazz playing now was good music, reminiscent of certain bands Anastus had funded years ago. The saxaphone was particularly alluring. Knowing full well that she had friends here, Anastus kissed his wife's pale yet lush, full lips - the lips of immortal beauty, he had once said to her - and let her delve into the social infrastructure of the club. He himself went to the bar and ordered the usual: a tall bottle of warm blood. This was one of only two bars in Bayfield that carried such a thing, for there were numerous vampires here - among other things. Many other things. And since both the Triskelle and the Dark were focused on innish more than unnish, though the Dark did allow unnish, both carried the sweet, delicious liquid that was life and power to all who bore the razor-sharp fangs.

Anastus drank deeply, losing himself momentarily in the ecstasy of the ambrosia he consumed. Finally, he slipped in amongst the crowd and began to mingle himself. He sat down at a table on the wall and listened in to several conversations, curious as usual about the goings-on throughout the city. This was a good place to pick up information.

Camden sat with her legs primly crossed on the tall bar stool, watching others as they passed by with a slight smile playing on her lips. Watching people had always been her favorite past time. Humans were the best. They were somehow always aware that they were being watched, whether it was by her or the crowd around them, and it made them nervous, making their movements and expressions guarded and awkward. But the innish crowd was pleasing in a pinch.

One man in particular caught her attention, a vampire making his way around the room. With an artist's eye she noted the lines in his face, the fall of his hair, the way he carried himself when he walked. Nodding in appreciation, she dug into her bag and pulled out a small sketchbook and pencil and begin to draw. Her bag was the one thing she couldn't have come to the Triskele without. Though she had ditched her usual jeans for a black dress more fitting to the atmosphere, she hadn't had anything to put her sketchbook in that would match, and so her pin-infested satchel had come with her, though conveniently stuffed under her chair.

After a few moments she leaned back and studdied her sketch with a sigh of satisfaction, her small wings fluttering slightly in pleasure, and ordered a drink before continuing her scan of the room, keeping her book open in case anyone else happened to catch her eye.

Liquor flowed easily as the bartender barked order and grunted responses to those around him. It amused Master Bakolov how the man never seemed to notice the rolling eyes or exasperated looks exchanged by the barmaids behind his back. Their high heels clacked against the floor as they sped through the club with their patrons' drink and food orders.

Several patrons laughed throughout the club as conversations ranging from the state of affairs throughout the country to the vulgar thoughts of drunken men with too many viagra and not enough brains in them to know anything more than what was immediately perched upon their fat, sweaty noses. The scribbling of a pencil upon paper reached Master Bakalov's ears as well. He missed nothing, you see. For too long, he had missed nothing. He was not about to start missing things now. The woman was drawing him. Interesting.

He glanced at the drawing from across the room, only the briefest of interruptions disrupting his gaze at the well-detailed and well-drawn portrait of his face, his shoulders, his clothes, and the table at which he sat with the wall to his back. It was an excellent drawing. The girl had talent, though that bag under her chair didn't seem to match wardrobe.

He examined the girl with the briefest of glances, though his thoughts dwelled on her a moment - only a moment, but it was long enough. Then he dismissed her. She held not his interest for long.

The girl's wings intrigued him slightly. She did not seem to belong here, though. It was odd. She seemed more a child amongst grown men, and vulgar men besides - men with no honour or class. He wondered how long she would remain an artist amongst such a crowd, and how long she had lived. But then, as said, he dismissed her. She was not his type, and he was married besides. He was married, and he loved his wife as deeply and passionately - and jealously - as he did when he'd first proposed to the lust-inspiring, extremely voluptuous woman. She was like a fine wine, perfected and refined with time and care and patience. Yes, he loved his wife - very much so - and she loved him. So, the girl held no real interest for him at all as his gaze drifted from her to continue his surveillance of the rest of the club.

Camden had already lost interest in the vampire. His eyes had made her catch her breath for a moment, the way every vampire's eyes did, but onc they were sketched out in pencil they were of no interest to her.

Picking up her glass she slid off the stool to make her way around the room, flitting from circle to circle, every now and then offering a slight remark or nod in agreement but mostly listening, her finger tracing the rim of her glass absently. A twittering group in the corner held her interest for a few moments, until their whispered gossip turned to talks of fashion, leaving her to wander into a groupd where the subjects were more interesting.

She had been hovering at the edge of a particular triad for a few minutes when the convesation turned to the uninitiate. Her interest peaked, she listened as the discussion heated, shaking her head vehemently at one point in particular.

"The uninitiate are fearful and stupid. Those who try to integrate them into the magical society are foolish. Uninitiate can't see beyond what they are taught to see and are afraid of anything that might challenge that convention. They are still hateful towards members of their own species, what's to say their hate will not be double for members of another? What's more, our society has always been a scapegoat for situations not to their liking. There are no laws in any of their constitutions written towards us, what's to stop them from dredging up mistakes we may have made, or they believe we have made in the past?"

The three who had been talking stared at her, not having realized that she was there until she spoke. Finally, one seemed to remember what she had said and shook his head in disagreement.

"What about the ones who find out on their own?" he asked, arching one elegant eyebrow. She merely shrugged and smiled teasingly.

"We could always do as we have before and leave a bit of magicked wood in their place." They all chuckled and the conversation continued, Camden happy to let the spotlight shift so she could make her way back to the stool and her sketch pad, the glass in her hand now empty. An older man who had obviously had one too many drinks tried to wrap a gangly arm around her waist as she passed, muttering something in her ear. She humoured him for a couple seconds, if only to get a closer look at him for her sketches, then gently shoved him away, returning to her scans of the room.

But the vampire had also heard, and so had his wife. Anastus found himself joined by his wife as they approached the conversation.

"Perhaps we should eradicate them completely, then. But of course, then those of my kind would have to feed from your and yours."

His deep, rich voice silenced them immediately. After a moment, they resumed and made space for him and his lovely wife. He caught the looks and the clearing of throats as they glanced at her while trying not to look too hard. He didn't mind, though if they made a move for her...but they had not, as yet, and they were all too afraid to do so. And well that they should be, considering.

"What is magic," Anastus continued, his wife smiling slightly and listening to her husband as she watched the people before her, "without power? Or knowledge, for that matter? You are correct in your assumption, Asur."

The man jumped slightly, but then seemed to sink even lower in his seat as he realized that Anastus had probably read his mind - not that slouching helped, of course.

"When those of England and France came to the Americas, they dominated and subjugated the so-called 'Indians'. When blacks were transported to the United States, they came as slaves and ended up destroying an entire way of life over the next two hundred years. Even now, even in Canada - though the United States is worse by far - people spy on others, distrust even their own, torture and maim their own solely for power and to make sure that they are comfortable in their violations of their own laws and customs. Who's to say it would be any different? Mortals have a talent for taking a small thing and turning it into an endless grudge. I'm of a mind that they should all be eradicated. We would not have to wait in the shadows for those of the mundane world to find us. There would be none of the mundane world to find us."

A fresh bottle of blood was suddenly brought to him, as per his mental control of a nearby waiter.

"I control the minds of mortals, certainly, but I am not so bad as the mundane world. I would have to start feeding on the initiated instead of the uninitiated if we did wipe them all out, but at least we would be able to walk around in public without wondering whether we're too obvious or not."

He took a drink of his blood as the others nodded and grumbled in agreement. His wife sat beside him, bemused and not saying a word, clinging to him comfortably.

Camden listened to the vampire speak with something between admiration and disgust. Disgust merely for the fact that his voice was as perfect as his features, as all vampires' would be. They were created beautiful. She almost scowled, but decided to check it, finding herself agreeing with him on most points. His wife was equally exquisite, if it was indeed his wife at his side, which she assumed it was.

The pixie ordered another drink, the condensation pooling on her fingers as it remained untouched.

"With power comes responsibility." her soft voice broke in. "Not that I am in favor of lurkng in the shadows all my days, but I don't believe the complete erasure of humankind would be the answer we are looking for, though you may argue that it would be in self defense, doing as they would do to us were they given the opportunity. With humans gone our balance would be tipped, you have given the example of a food supply being changed. Would we not then create a society much like their own? We are not without prejudices, and sooner or later those prejudices are bound to take precedence."

She took a sip of the rapidly warming drink, suddenly finding herself nervous in such a crowd. "I am not in favor of change. Playing my role has kept me alive so far, and I pray it will continue to do so."

The vampire smirked. The child was right, of course, though he would not deign to admit it - especially not in front of those now gathered around him.

Anastus' wife turned and whispered something in his ear that only he could hear. Then he nodded slightly and they kissed - deeply - and she headed off. Her very walk was extremely seductive, and well that it should be after centuries of practice.

Watching her and sighing contentedly, particularly the swaying motion of her hips, he turned back to the others at last and responded to the girl's query.

"A preemptive strike would allow us to gain the upper hand. Who's to say that we wouldn't succeed in just enslaving the unnish population? Perhaps we would be forced to wipe some of them out, but enslavement is the best option. I, myself, wouldn't mind paying for slaves and food now and again, and I'm sure there are many here that would agree unnish slaves could be very useful. Better to enslave them, I suppose, than to wipe them out. Still, I agree that something should be done about them."

The pixie pursed her lips in thought for a moment, weighing the options presented.

"It is a plausible course. Their extinction would be prevented but we would no longer have to hide. Those sympathetic to the unnish could simply buy them and set them free, and those who are tired of them or depend on their existance, would have power over them. With any course of action taken there are bound to be hitches, however, this seems to be the most feasible proposition."

Her eyes crinkled in a signature sly smile over the brim of her glass as she took another drink before speaking again.

"Let me know when you plan to begin and will be certain to join." She said, the smile never leaving her lips as she raised her glass in a half-toast.

Sheridan sat with her back to the group her broken arm splinted. She might actually enjoy that idea if they decided to try it. Some humans got on her nerves, such as the one who had attacked her earlier, but others were decent. She drained the rest of her whiskey and wiped the blood away from the cut on her forehead. It was certaintly an interesting conversation but she had to be careful that she wasn't caught in here. Quite a few people really didn't like her, maybe even Anastus but who knew. She started off toward the shadows on the other side off the room trying not to get caught by anyone. "Man...." she muttered to herself as a hand wrapped around her arm. She was far enough away from others that unless you had a Vampire's speed she could down the Werewolf crushing her unbroken arm and be out the door without getting caught. Question was what would happen if she got caught. As she pondered this she also hoped she wouldn't have to resort to violence. As soon as she felt a cold knife press against the back of her neck she knew talking was not an option. She found herself wondering if someone would intervene so she wouldn't have to harm the fool behind her. Then again, she didn't think anyone had noticed her and the man yet. Maybe, just maybe, since he was dragging her toward the door, she could fight him once they got outside and there would be less trouble. If Anastus noticed she might be in a small bit of trouble... or she could just let the jerk kill her. It's not like she had anything better to do. Finally she felt the cool breeze as the man opened the door and dragged her outside. Instantly she spun away from him. It bruised her arm and the knife sliced the back of her neck but nothing else. Sheridan grabbed the wirst that held his knife and snapped it then knocked him out against the side of the building before going back in to her seat, listening to the conversations in the room again and hoping no one had noticed.

Anastus frowned slightly, but it was not his affair. He returned to the business at hand.

"So, it's agreed that something will be done, then?"

There were grumbles and excuses as three out of the five men left. One of the remaining two looked very nervous as he shifted. That one might be a problem if he wasn't compelled to aid them. The other one looked eager, almost excited.

"Well, whatever we do, then," Anastus continued dryly, "It will have to be done slowly. There are many - a great many, in fact - that would flay us alive for even the notion of this conversation, let alone the idea itself. I have great enough power - and enough allies, including my wife - that I could survive well enough. But you two would be on your own. I will not aid you at the risk of my own head or that of my wife or adopted daughter. Understood?" he asked sternly, like a father scolding a child. They nodded. Compulsion was so easy, even with those of the innish community. The shifting one had even stopped shifting, now, and both were listening intently. They sat as though awaiting orders.

Anastus watched the woman walk back inside - minus one would-be captor. He noticed blood streaming from a wound in her neck. Sweet, red, warm, delicious blood...but no. He had already fed, and was still feeding for that matter. With that thought, he quickly downed the last of the bottle's contents and cleared his throat. He sat up a bit straighter.

I think we should begin with the peasantry - the homeless," he corrected himself. He referred to the vagabonds so rarely that he sometimes forgot what they were called in this day and age. "No one will miss them. No one. A few homeless here, a few homeless there - and they can be cleaned up and educated well enough. Then we sell them to the highest bidder. I, of course, need no funds - I have my own fortune - but the money we glean will be used to further the cause. I prefer to use my fortune sparingly if it is not used for my personal pleasures. You two should begin rounding them up and bringing them to the following location. I will meet you here each night, once per week, at midnight and I will give you further instructions at that point."

As he spoke, he drew a map in the rough wood table with his razor-sharp fingernail. Once they'd recognized the location, Anastus hastily cut it up so that it was completely gone - leaving only a deep indent where that part of the table (and the map) had once been. The two agreed. He knew they were both shapeshifters, so it wouldn't be a problem.

"As for me," he said as his wife returned to his arms, "I am going to go dance with my wife. Do not approach me. I will approach you. Go."

They went. Anastus took his wife and got up to go dancing with her in another part of the room. Before he left, he said to the pixie, "You're welcome to join them, if you like. Just don't be too surprised if they seem to be someone else each time you see them; they know the ways of shapeshifting as well as any of my kind." Once in position, Anastus and his wife began a romantic slow dance to the soft music playing in the background. They were very close to one another, locked in an almost seductive embrace as they flowed with the music...

Sarithen gave a quiet sigh of relief that Anastus had chosen to ignore her. There were some people you just didn't mess with. Even if you were an assassin. As she waited for her contact to arrive, no longer caring that much about the conversation as it appeared to be over, she noticed a young boy sneaking off with the bag she'd seen the pixie with earlier. She sighed, telling herself she shouldn't get involved, but ended up snatching the bag from the rogue as he passed her anyway. He jumped, startled by the quick move then ran off. *Why do I do stuff like this?* She thought to herself as she drained the rest of her drink and walked over to the pixie. She tapped her lightly on the shoulder, holding the bag out as she turned, "This wouldn't happen to be yours would it?" She set the bag on the table next to the pixie and walked away. Her contact walked in and she met him. He explained he wouldn't ask her to do the job that day because an emergancy had come up. "What emergency?" Sheridan asked cautiously. "We just found some humans. They burned down the house you were staying in." He left. Sheridan's eyes narrowed in anger. *Stupid humans.* She thought. She wished she could do more but doubtless the vampire had already killed them. She walked back over to her seat near the pixie and flopped into it, calling for another, stronger, drink. She sat in silence for a while the spoke to the pixie. "May you and yours have better luck than I. Especially if you plan to join in on Anastus' little scheme."

Camden shrugged. "I may." She turned towards the strange girl next to her and grinned. "I am an instigator, just as any artist. We begin the ideas and sit back to watch them unfold. Life is much more interesting if viewed from the perspective of a reality tv show, as long as you aren't one of the contestants."

Rummaging through her bag she pulled out her sketchbook and carefully tore out the sketch of Anustus. On the back she penned her name in small, careful letters and slipped it to the bartender. The atmosphere in the room had grown dull since the debate over the unnish had ended. Besides, it was growing late, and she had things to do tomomorrow. Stifing a yawn, she shouldered her bag and prepared to leave.

As she absently paid her bill she turned again to the girl beside her, a mischevious twinkle in her eyes. She was tired, but there was still time for a little harmless mischief on the way home. Once the money had been exchanged Cam flitted over and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door. "Come with me. Let's go have some fun." She giggled, a childlike, infectious giggle. A few faerie pranks and glamour tricks couldn't hurt, especially at such a late time when human drunks and bums were the most easily fooled.

As the pixie, Camden, pulled her toward the door she tossed her bill to the bartender as well. With a slightly bemused look on her face she wondered what in the world she was doing letting herself be dragged along by the infectious, slightly flighty, pixie. She shrugged, "I suppose I could join you. I have no home to go to anymore after all. I think I have a good idea where you could play a few tricks. I doubt you've been there before." She grinned to herself. This would be fun. Finally she could get back at a few people, not get in trouble for it, and still have fun. She turned slightly to keep her broken arm from hitting the doorframe as the pixie dragged her outside. She noticed her attacker from earlier stirring and motioned in his direction, "Where ever we go we might want to go soon. He's waking up."

Camden whirled on the girl, her eyebrows knit together in a scolding manner, her whole demeanor suddenly serious.

"I have one rule if you are going with me:" One finger was held in front of the girl's face as she spoke. "No pranks on anyone who could tell of them. That means no one who isn't drunk, wasted, or too stupid to know better. You can have a good time without the entire world knowing what you are." Her lips pused together for a moment and then she sighed, a million unuttered thoughts leaving in a single breath. "On second thought, let's stick to inanimate objects tonight."

She took the girl's hand again and led her outside, but some of the flightiness in her manner had disappeared with the realization that the caution she usually carried had nearly disappeared with her whim.

Anastus danced with his wife for hours, neither of them tiring at all (for how could a vampire truly tire when merely dancing?), until they finally stopped. During the whole episode, his wife had nuzzled against him and he had nibbled lightly on her ear and neck, stroking her hair and bringing a smile to her face by even going so far as to squeeze her cheeks a couple of times - and not the cheeks on her face, either.

Finally, though, they agreed that it was time to leave. Only an hour or so until sunrise. They headed out into the night.

"Beautiful night, is it not?" he whispered so that only his wife could hear.

"It is," she responded in the same tone.

Stars filled the night sky and the nearly full moon lit the ground. Silver-lined clouds passed by it slowly, casting eerie shadows on the ground below. A stealth helicopter was the only thing to break the beauty, and Anastus frowned until it was gone.

"They do so try to hide, but you cannot hide from the eyes of a vampire," he said quietly. Then his light smile returned as he and his wife walked off arm-in-arm, going for a romantic stroll that would end at their lavish home.

((OUT))

((Others can RP here if you want...but my part's done. :) ))