Nicck does indeed turn and leave but not with the flourish that he had tried to a moment ago.  The mention of wolves seemed to confuse him a bit.  For a second he stares at her with a dumb look on his facce before snorting derisively, "There have been no wolves here in over a decade.  Seems you're as crazy as they say.  Too bad, Isabella is going to be disappointed."

With that he leaves.  As Elsa moves around the shop and selects a tarot carrd teh Seven of Cups is revealed.  As she looks to the card another vistor steps into the shop.  The young woman has a red windbreaker on that hides her brown hair in a pulled up hood.  Pushing it back she smiles politely and glances around.  "Sorry...I had to see inside.  My friend's said you were a psychic.  Do you do palm readings?  I can pay...wait you prrobably already knew that."

[Secret to Elsa Lamarre: Roll int + alerrtness diff 6]

Elsa frowned slightly at the card. The seven of cups was a card of transitions and illusions, dreams and change. It was … vague, but not without meaning. She placed it carefully back on top of the deck, just as the woman burst inside.

“I….” Elsa seemed a bit frazzled, but eventually conceded, “Of course my dear. Will you please step inside? Make yourself comfortable.”

She gestured towards a seating area with plump, embroidered floor pillows arranged around a low circular table. Mahogany book cases framed the room on two sides, filled with various texts on psychic phenomenon, mythology, poetry, and law. The third wall was covered in heavy damask curtains, and a ray of moonlight spilled in through the dusty window panes from the garden outside.

[Private to GM: Elsa Lamarre rolled 2 successes using 5d10  with a target of 6 ((1,8,10,6,4)). I am re-learning how to use the dice roller. I think I did it right! Also minor note - Elsa runs her business out of her home. It is fine for people to come in, but just wanted to clarify that it isn't really a "shop". Although I am happy to change that if a shop fits better! ]

The woman seems normal enough but something about her is out of place.  It took a moment but then it settled in...she had a posture about her that screamed military and she was wearing a very small ear piece that could have been a hearing aid or something else.  Smiling and taking the seat she shifts a bit trying to get completely comfortable.

"How do we proceed?  Do I just hold out my hand?  Pay first?"

While seeming genuinely excited her eyes kept darting around the room as if sizing up the area and looking for points of egress, perhaps a security check?  Focusing her attention back on Elsa she holds up her left hand while shifting a small purse to her lap and waiting for an answer.

Elsa felt the pressure starting to build in her eardrums - a low buzz, like a thousand bees gathering at her temples. Her sire’s words echoed back at her, from the night of her embrace. Words of warning that she could neither make heads nor tails of at the time. Now, she could not shake them so easily. Crawling shadows flickered at the corners of her vision, like specters waiting in the dark.

“You may pay at the end,” she murmured finally. Sitting cross-legged on one of the pillows, Elsa tried to look calm as she reached for the woman’s hand, examining the unique criss-cross of lines covering her palm.

“The left hand is special…” She tilted her head slightly, watching how the moonlight played across the woman’s skin. “It is a reflection of who you were at birth - your core essence and potential.”

“I see…” Elsa frowned slightly. “A woman who cares about the well-being of others. A woman of great action and great personal sacrifice…. When I see lines such as these, they often represent people who would do well in service to others. Policemen, firemen… soldiers. Those who guard and protect, who are very skilled in what they do because lives often depend on their choices.”

She watched the woman for any signs of reaction, and pushed her senses open, searching for the beautiful swirls and eddies of color that existed just beyond human sight…. at the bleeding edge of our reality.

[Private to GM: Rolling an Auspex 2 check to look at her aura: Elsa Lamarre rolled 2 successes using 6d10  with a target of 6 ((2,8,3,8,1,6))  EDIT: Checked the book. Difficulty is actually 8, so I would only have 1 success from that roll.]
This message was last edited by the player at 07:56, Fri 17 Apr 2015.

Danger and anger course through the woman's aura.  As Elsa mentions the word soldier the woman visibly fliches a bit but quickly resets herself and smiles broadly in anticipation of what else may come.  Letting Elsa do her thing the woman seems pretty fascinated and leans closer to see what was going on.

Speaking as she leans in with a shaky voice the woman seems to almost have a tear in eye.  "I served two tours in Iraq...how'd you know?"  Her eyes scan Elsa as if looking for some sort of trick but seeing none she scoots closer waiting to see what comes next.

“This is your life line, your fate line, your heart line….” Biting her lip slightly, Elsa tried to concentrate on the reading. “This is someone in your future - a great love. You will find this person when you least expect it, and although you will not like each other at first, that will change in time… Your fate line, is fraught with challenges, with battles yet to be fought,  but you have the strength of character to overcome them.”

“You carry the burden of so much…. anger.” Elsa traced a line on the woman’s hand, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to keep her own from shaking. The swirls of chaotic red and umber sparked and swirled around the woman’s fingers, like a worm, wriggling. “Like a coiled snake, I can see it waiting in the underbrush although you hide it so well.”

“You have walked the path of war for some time. You may continue to walk it still…. there is something that you believe in, something you want to change about the world perhaps. But…. my dear you must take care, that the war you fight does not harm innocents along the way.”

Elsa held on to the woman’s hand for a moment longer, before releasing it. The sense of dread did not leave the room, but she did not think the woman planned to strike. Not yet.

“Is there anything else you wish to know, my dear?”

"Innocents...heh tell me, how many innocents have fallen to snakes hidden in the clothes of men?  How many have been used to satisfy unnatural desires, how many more fall even tonight?  No, dear lady, do not talk to me of innocents."

As she speaks her voice seems to grow more and more harsh.  Her right hand raises and rests on her right thigh.  In her hand is a small almost taser looking thing.  Its not a device that Elsa has ever seen but the hum of high voltage electricity now rings through the air.  The woman's eyes have taken on a harsh look and her finger taps the trigger, almost impatiently.

"There is evil in the world and I've seen its face.  Tell me where Jarrod Cromwell is and I'll make sure you aren't experimented on."

Elsa reflexively scrambled backwards, falling partway off the cushion and hitting her head against the tall bookcase. A crystal ball fell to the ground with a solid thud, a large crack opening along its surface.

“I…” Elsa watched the woman’s aura bloom like the glow of a campfire, bristling and flickering with brilliant red light. She worried that it would catch the curtains on fire - a flame like that.

“I do not recognize that name,” she tried to keep her voice steady, but the tremble was all too obvious. “However... if you brought me an object that belonged to this... Mister Cromwell, perhaps my gifts could be of use in finding him. Preferably an object that saw him disappear, if such a thing exists."

"LIES!  It has always been that way with you Isabella.  Yeah, you don't remember but you killed my sister eight years ago.  Greater good and all...she had seen too much.  Took a while but my mind is clear now.  Her name was Lisa and this is for her.."

The weapon in her hand fires to life and lightning sparks through the air.  Hitting Elsa's skin it sets her arm on fire and paralyzes her muscles all at once.  The woman's face is contorted into a mixture of rage and satisfaction...

Then its as if a fog lifts and Nick is just leaving.  The woman in the doorway is standing there looking confused.  "Is it alright if I come in?  If you're closed I can come back later..."

She looks different than Elsa remembered.  Her hair was auburn and the jacket she was wearing was black leather.  Her brown eyes looked confused and a little bit worried.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:45, Sun 19 Apr 2015.

Elsa was trembling, shaking as she stood in the doorway. She murmured a faint, unintelligible reply to the woman, before pushing past her and stepping outside onto the cobbled path.

“Nic- Nicholas?” Her voice was hardly more than a croak as she looked frantically about for the young Ventrue, her wispy blonde hair fluttering about her face in the nighttime breeze.

She took several steps after him, her bare feet relishing the coldness of the stones. A blade of grass peeking out between the cobbles curled away from her skin.

Catching up, she grabbed for his arm and clung to him, desperate to feel something solid and real. “You must contact Isabella immediately,” she murmured in a rasp. “She is in grave danger…. or…. “ she relented slightly, “The danger may be old and gone….but I… fear for her, Nicholas.”

[Private to GM: In your post, you said he had just left. If I am assuming too much in catching up to him, let me know and I will correct!]

Nick was just getting into his Dodge Challenger when Elsa caught up to him.  With one leg in he climbs back out and listens while a confused expression crosses his face.  "Whoa...whoa, slow down.  What danger...where...how...Isabella's in danger.  Tell me what you know and how."

As he speaks Nick pulls out his IPhone and presses Isabella's number.  Looking to Elsa his face is a mask of concern that seems genuine.  Holding up a finger he cuts off Elsa before she can speak, "Mistress De Orssi, yes ma'am I have delivered some of the messages but I...yes I understand the importance of all of them but I have a message for you.  Hold a second please.  It might be better if you heard it from her."

 Holding out the phone to Elsa, Nick motions for her to speak on the device.

She gripped the phone like a lifeline, trying to stop her hands from shaking. Her voice trembled for a moment, but as she began to speak prophesy and recount her vision, her tone became strangely calm and even.

“There is a woman who wishes you harm, and she will succeed if you are not prepared my lady. She will wear a red parka, concealing brown hair and a wreath of anger and rage bright and brilliant as a flame.”

 “She will come for you to avenge her sister, Lisa. She will come with questions, searching for a Jarrod Cromwell who has gone missing…. If he is not missing yet, and if Lisa is still alive you may wish to keep them safe.” Struggling to grasp the details, she shook her head dismissing an idea “No… she said her sister died eight years ago. I doubt she is alive still… that piece may be set in stone now.”

“She … she spoke of experiments, a place she would take you, if your answers did not satisfy her. But… my vision ended in pain as her weapon discharged into a thousand arcs of electric shock… The rest is black…”

Elsa’s voice shook slightly, the events still warm and real in her mind. “I - I cannot say with certainty if what I have seen is the near future, or distant. Or if this is the past, and you have already defeated this danger….But with the urgency of this vision, I must believe these events can still be prevented.”

Finished with her account, Elsa felt weakened and light-headed. She leaned back against Nicholas’ car, her head throbbing, and waited tensely for a reply.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:48, Sun 19 Apr 2015.

"Calm yourself my dear.  I need yu to come with Nick now.  This is no longer a request it is a need.  Get here as fast as you can Nicck will keep you safe.  He has already received his orders and he will do as he is told.  If trouble finds you run and find a way to contact me again.  I will see you soon."

Withgout letting Elsa speak again Isabella hangs up the phone.  Almost immediately after she hangs up Nick all but pushes Elsa into the vehicle as an inky black cloud erupts around them.  Isabella's voice echoes in Elsa's head.  "Stay calm Nick is doing what he must to ensure you are not followed."  Fear not you are still safe."

Though the shadows seem to be trying to choke every sense Elsa has and is very disorientating Nick's hand on hers can still be felt.

The blanket of darkness undulated around her, smothering, choking, gripping at her from a thousand different directions. Like tiny hands or alien cilia, probing, strangling, blotting out the very air…. She gasped for oxygen, before remembering that she did not need to breathe. That realization gripped her with a greater sense of panic, and she held tightly onto Nick’s hand.

In the blackness, a thousand dark visions assailed her, a thousand whispers of terror and desperation. How many innocents have fallen to snakes hidden in the clothes of men? - The echo of the woman’s voice hissed into her eardrums, and Elsa flinched away from the memory even as she went with Nick wherever he might lead her…After all, what other choice did she have?

Elsa sat in the car with her knees pulled up to her chin, and her arms wrapped around her legs tightly.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:07, Mon 20 Apr 2015.

Soon the car stops in front of the Elysium, the Old Ryman Theater.  This night it was closed for a private event, or so the sign said.  As the vehicle rolled to a stop four men moved swiftly to the vehicle and practically dragged Elsa from the vehicle and into the buidling itself.  Once past the first hallway the men stop and Isabella stands in a doorway to the right.

"Sorry for the extreme measures my dear.  Please allow me to welcome you to my private study.  There is an elevator back here.  Once we decend you will find the space far more comfortable.  Hush for now, too many prying ears nearby."

Not really waiting for Elsa, Isabella quickly leads the way to the private elevator and down into a rather comfortable room aden with numerous very expensive works of art.  The center of the room is a partially completed sculpture of a large horse being carved out of obsidian.  It is remarkedly detailed and very intricate but doesn't look like its been worked on recently.  A quick glance around the room reveals Monets, Rembrandts, and some roman sculptures of gladiators that are chipped and damaged and quite old.

Motioning towards a plush looking couch Isabella pours two wine goblets full of a thick red liquid that smells of fruit and blood.

"Please accept this drink my dear.  It will help settle your nerves."

Taking a big drink herself she wipes her lips with the outside of her wrist and looks downwards for a few moments before exhaling deeply and pouring herself another drink.

"On the phone you said a name.  Would it be rude if I asked you to say it again so I can be sure I heard it right?"

The trip through Elysium was disorienting for Elsa. The hot burn of the electric lights commingling with the pale, silent moonlight and the brisk coolness of the air at night… She was hardly able to feel her feet touching the concrete, then the carpet, then the sinking stillness of the elevator, before being ushered out into Isabella’s private study.

It was quiet here, still and strangely calm, yet Elsa felt the various objects and paintings whispering to her gently and softly - her fingers twitched, longing to touch a Monet and drink in the stories it might tell.

She accepted the glass, but it hung limply in her hand with the intoxicating perfume calling to her. She did not drink, at least not yet.

“His name is Jarrod… Jarrod Cromwell. She said that he is missing, or will be missing one day.”

She considered the glass for a moment, marveling at the very concept of serving blood like wine. It felt so impersonal, so removed from the act.

“Lisa is the sister, perhaps that is the link to discovering who this woman is and what she may want. I… have never had a vision like this my lady. It was…. so close to waking, I could not discern the edges of the dream.”

Setting the glass down Isabella slumps down to a seat and looks a bit forlorn.  Shaking her head for a few seconds she mutters something about snakes hidden in the clothes of men...  Looking up she looks directly at Elsa.  "Jarrod Cromwell...you are certain that was the name?  My dear the fates, if what you say is true, have given you a glmpse behind a curtain that few see.  Jarrod is a problem of the worst sort.  I'm not sure whether to be happy that he is missing...or will be or scared of where he'll pop up.  Tell me, did you see anything else.  I mean anything other than this Lisa."

As she mentions the name her eyes fall to the ground and it is said with a hint of regret and anguish.

"I remember her.  She was young, gifted in the art of sculpting."  Rising she runs a loving hand along the sculpture of the horse and sighs heavily.  "This was hers.  She was so talented but also sick in the mind.  She was not a good woman.  Pain and violence were her muses and though I tried to teach her different her work was never as good if she did not kill before working.  I gave her so many lives in hopes she would finish this masterpiece but she refused.  The refusal angered me...it tore at my beast...ate at my soul.  I did not want to hurt her but the beast demanded retribution for her refusal to finish this work.  I think part of me thought I could finish after feasting on her.  I didn't know she brought her baby sister.  She was three at the time...so quiet...so precious.  When I...when I drained her sister Brianna started crying...there was soo much blood.  The cries woke me from the beast's embrace.  My servants tell me I should have killed her too but I couldn't bring myself too.  Life is precious and to take one so young was just too much a pull on what was left of my humanity.  No, to do that would have damned me forever.  Instead I placed a suggestion in her mind to hide the truth...and now it has been broken.  I would like to know how but I think that might be a dangerous question to ask..."

As Isabella spoke about the past, Elsa approached the statue, tilting her head slightly to one side to better observe its raw, unfinished form. Echoes stirred within the figure, just out of reach.

“I have always found that some of the most beautiful works are unfinished ones - the flaws and rough hewn forms often provide a clearer window into the artist’s soul. Michelangelo’s third pieta, for instance. It is not his most famous pieta, but there is an honesty and a sorrow that speaks of the man in his final days, struggling still to unmask the form hiding within the stone…  I see it as his truest work, and his most beautiful, although it will never be completed.”

The desire to touch the statue was almost overwhelming, and Elsa diverted her gaze. “But I am not here to offer my opinions on art.”

“There…  was another glimpse beyond the veil. A brief omen whose pieces I do not yet understand… but perhaps they will mean something to you. I saw Nicholas, red pools of blood pouring from him as his skin pealed away…” An involuntary shudder passed over her body, “… A black raven circled in the sky, and a silver wolf howled in the distance.”

“I sense … a wind of change, a tide of something approaching that we may only see the vaguest and smallest hints of in the present moment. This woman… this Brianna, she seemed to belong to a group - she wore an ear piece, and mentioned a place where experiments are run. She had the aura of a soldier, one who is still fighting although there is no war…Perhaps whoever she has allied herself with is able to break your spell over her. Is such a thing possible?”

"There is always a war somewhere my dear.  Still your vision troubles me, anything with wolves does."

Pacing the room she seems about to say more but pauses just before it leaves her lips and instead she runs a loving hand along the front of the unfinished piece of the statue.  "It is always just beneath the surface waiting to come out but you don't know if its beauty or hideousness beneath.  The stone takes the form it wants to...if only things were so simple for us."

Weakly smiling she reaches forward as if she is about to touch Elsa's cheek but pulls up short and closes her hand before looking away.  Slumping down to onto one the couches she leans forward and clasps her hands just beneath her chin.

"You have shared much tonight and the fates have tangled you in their web...more deeply than you know.  I have seen your face as well my dear...surrounded by daggers looking towards the dying light.  I have pondered it many a night but have not figured out what it means.  Tell me your thoughts my dear.  Is it an omen of ill will or one of hope.  I have thought both myself."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:00, Fri 24 Apr 2015.

“What is hopeful for the fox, is often an ill omen for the hens…” Elsa murmured, settling down onto the couch near Isabella. “How do we judge a vision - by its perceived impact on our own lives, or the impact it may have on others?”

“I cannot blame Brianna for her anger, not entirely. There is truth in what she says. We are forever playing the part in an elaborate masquerade, a trick of the light pretending to be human… Sometimes I believe we do this not to fool them, but to fool ourselves.”

Pausing for a moment, she finally took a small, thoughtful sip from the glass.  “Still… I do not believe that visions are given without a purpose, and what purpose is served by a vision that has no hope? The fates do not speak to us to taunt us, or torment us... it is a blessing, not a curse.  Even a vision of Pompeii erupting provides hope - the hope to escape, before the world is covered in ash and death…”

Elsa regarded Isabella with some curiosity, peering at her over the lip of her glass. “Strange, my thoughts have been turned so inward recently that I did not even realize, though I am certain now that I heard rumors… How long have you had the gift? Has it always been with you?"

"Gift...no my dear mine has been a curse, even in mortal times I was loccked away, never to find love, never to feel the carnal pleasures of the flesh.  You see, my people believed it would steal my gift if I were touched by a man...if only it were so simple.  Enough of my sob story my dear.  I will continue to think on the vision but without a rosetta stone of some sort to give context I'm afraid I may not know the meaning till after the usefulness of the vision has passed."

Shrugging she rubs her left temple and seems about to say something else when the doors swing open and a man in an expensive looking suit enters.  His slicked back blond hair and ice blue eyes arre framed almost perfectly by his pale skin.  His gait is one that speaks of military training from an era that has long sinced passed.  It is almost an arrogant march as he crosses the room.  "Ahh...good to see you this night Heinrich.  I was not expecting you but what may I ask brings yourr pleasurable company to my study this night?"

The irritation in her voice is not hidden but doesn't seem to faze Heinrich as he bows respectfully and speaks with a thick German accent.

"Truly a pleasure as always Frau Orssi.  Herr Lassiter asked me to inform you that the news crews are reporting a crucifixion and burning at LP Field."

Smirking he bows again and turns on his left heel before heading to the door.  Isabella quickly pulls out her phone and soon a television appears from behind retracting walls.  The news channel shows a female reporter outside of the stadium as police block off the area.  The caption on the bottom says something about gunfire and a murder....

The flash of brilliant color from the television screens washed over the room, and Elsa rose from the couch to stand quietly near Isabella, watching the moving images and talking faces. She was finding it difficult lately, to concentrate on television - it was all a flicker and a blur, a sea of light without substance. Yet, the words spoken by Heinrich were more real and she clung to them with a sense of dread.

Elsa could feel the flashing blue and red lights from the police cars pound into a pulsing rhythm. The carpet felt like sinking sand.

“Is this connected to what we have seen, do you imagine?” Her own words sounded like someone speaking from a great distance away. She shook her head and tried to concentrate. “I… Is there anything you would have me do, Madame de Orssi? If I could touch a piece of the cross, perhaps…. perhaps there is a story it may wish to tell.”

"It would seem that your gift is different than mine my dear.  Tactile...most interesting.  You should keep that secret to yourself or else you may find yourself locked in a room only allowed to touch what others want you to.  Knowledge is power and power is intoxicating.  We will talk to Rocha. I am sure he can get you access to the evidence but for nnnn......."

Isabella's eyes  roll into the back of her head and her body shakes violently as she crumples to the floor.  Clenching her hands she forces herself into a seated position and grabs Elsa's arm.  As she does shadows invade Elsa's mind and block out the room.  As they peel back Elsa can see herself standing ten feet away with a large piece of charred wood lying on the table in front of her.   Reaching forward with a trembling hand the Elsa she is watching tries to touch the wood but then is interrupted by a large dark skinned man with a shaved head and shaggy beard.  His voice is thick with an African accent.

"I am sorry child but what must be done will be done."

Raising his left arm with a large curved blade he slices it across her left cheek opening a deep wound.   Raising the blade once more he seems ready to drive it into herr ribs but she is too fast for him and pounces forward plunging her bared teeth into his neck.  Her eyes darkened she looks up at where Elsa watches herself from and tilts her head to a side as if confused before snapping the man's neck and rushing forward with a vicious ferocity....

The world then snaps back to the study with Isabella's nails piercing deeply into Elsa's wrist but not deep enough to ause any serious wounds...
This message was last edited by the player at 04:26, Sat 25 Apr 2015.

Elsa was already reaching for Isabella as she collapsed to the ground in a fit of tremors, but she was not fast enough to break her fall. As the older vampire’s hand grasped onto her wrist, and the vision came violently into her mind, Elsa gasped and sank to the carpet, staring wildly at the scene as it unfolded around her.

This vision felt different than usual, perhaps because it was not her own. It was a surreal and disorienting out of body experience to watch herself in this manner. She reached out her own hand towards this strange version of herself, shuddering slightly as the vision broke. Like coming up rapidly through the surface tension of a vast pool of dark water, the room flooded and crashed back in around her.

“It seems approaching the cross is a fool’s errand... daggers in the darkness indeed,” she murmured and closed her eyes against a sudden burst of pain in her temple. She sat silently for a moment, before speaking again in a halting voice. “Do you know this man, and what he may want? I…” Elsa withdrew from Isabella slightly, settling back on her haunches and hugging her knees against her chest. “I hardly recognized myself - a beast is more similar, who kills without a thought of compassion….”

“Is this always how it is for you, my dear?” She reached out to touch Isabella’s arm for a moment, in a gesture of empathy and regret. “How… how is it possible for us to have shared this together?”

"Always my dear though less frequent nowadays.  As for how I am able to drag others into the visions, well a girl has to keep some secrets."

Winking Isabella takes another glass of blood wine and drinks deeply.  "The beast claws beneath all of our skins my dear.  When it manages to escape its confinement it is never pretty.  If I had to hazard a guess I would say that for some reason you frenzied and lost control, though what you saw where we stood is a mystery as you could not have seen us.  Now, for the man...I don't know him but a type like him would stand out here.  I can put the word out and see if anyone knows of him?"