A storm of apocalyptic proportions had come and gone in the city, leaving it in ruins and with vines in its wake. Victor's quick thinking had saved most of the Kindred and now they were in the process of recovering.

 Carmilla's betrayal had shaken the Camarilla and now the resurgence of Reginald had everyone on edge. Hank had experienced the rule of Reginald before though and he had actually been a decent enough ruler... but now his return would shake the Kindred world once more.

Sighing as he stretched his arms, Hrafen wasn't too excited about the new events. He'd survived through a shift from Sabbat rule to that of the Camarilla, and he would survive one in the opposite direction just fine. The ruling bodies in place didn't bother him so much as the fact that every time one of these shifts came about, he momentarily had the spotlight on himself.

Somebody always started sniffing around, and testing him out for combat readiness, even though he always made it very clear that he couldn't fight, or at least didn't want to, and he had to start the whole process of feigning a lack of capability once again to get them to go away.

Why, oh why fellow Kindred?

He knew damned well why, he just found it frustrating, regardless.

If his fellow Kindred could simply learn to live with each other, it would all go away, and they could all profit just fine with the situation as is. As it stood, however, now he was starting to suspect that if he didn't make a few (minor) connections in the city, he wouldn't see the next apocalypse coming, and he might be unprepared.

Thinking, Hrafen remembered Reginald. He hadn't been a terrible ruler, and he had mostly allowed his following to leave Hrafen alone. Problem was, if he saw that Hrafen had survived the Camarilla change in leadership, and was none the worse for wear, he might start to piece things together. Perhaps not, but that wasn't a chance Hrafen was willing to take.

No: now was the time for Hrafen to become "Hank" once again... the idiotic country boy that everybody seemed to forget about. He preferred it that way, after all, but it was vaguely irritating having to play such a simpleton's role just to survive comfortably. It would be so much easier just to sell his services, earn a reputation that people shouldn't screw with him, and then enjoy the relaxation that followed... but it never worked out like that with the Kindred, did it?

Shaking his head, Hrafen glanced upwards. The sky was dark, but he was on a mission. He needed to get somewhere to speak with other Kindred. He had some questions...




OOC -> Trying to head somewhere where perhaps Elysium exists? Somewhere he could gather some information?

 Most of the city had been ravaged by the storm and many of the lofty Elysium heights no longer existed. However, many of the smaller buildings managed to avoid much of the damage. An old auditorium hall now served as the primary Elysium. Kindred came and went to voice complaints and concerns and a small staff of kindred remained there to hear them. Victor controlled the blood banks in the city so he could afford to have a small staff of office workers like this, paid in blood to sit around and listen to people complain.

 One of those workers was Cyrus. He looked tired and overworked but he forced a "customer service" smile when you approached. "How can I help you?"

Walking up, and sitting near Cyrus, Hank smiled, matching the man's exhausted look with his own,

"Hello, hopefully I won't take too much of your time." he said comfortably, figuring the conversation wouldn't need to last too much further for the overworked one, "I've been a bit out of the loop for awhile... heard there were some changes lately. A few new people showing up. Wanted to know what I needed to be able to keep my nose in the sand. Don't want to cause any problems, you know?" he smiled in a friendly fashion, like two buddies talking about getting in trouble for being rowdy. He figured it could spark the man's energy a tiny bit, and grant him more information, or just let the man feed off of his general energy to at least answer the questions in a helpful way.

 Cyrus sighed. "Unfortunately, that probably won't be possible. The news is that Reginald's returned. Anyone sitting this out will be considered to be on his side in this fight. There are lots of kindred who would prefer to just let the storm pass... but this isn't one of those things."

Holding his hands up in mock surrender at his sides, Hrafen smiled,

"Oh of course, my friend. I'm just talking about those of us better at supporting from behind the scenes. I can't fight off a fly, so I'm just gathering the lay of the land to understand where to best employ my farm-skills to help." he said, throwing out the obvious 'I can't fight', like he had last time.

He knew better, here especially, than to think about any alternative options. He kept running farming implements through his mind, and was very careful not to let it wander. Perhaps, after all, a small indoor farm would be possible here. It would serve enough of a purpose, and if it made profit - all the better.

Plus, stating it like this would hopefully encourage Cyrus to recognize "Hank" as a useless sort... somebody to not pay much attention to.

Shifting the focus, he questioned,

"Reginald, hmm? That's surprising. How are the Elders reacting to this?" he was curious, but also curious who the current Elders were considered to be.

 Cyrus nodded. "Well, might want to learn then. These streets will be bathed in blood soon enough. If you don't want it to be yours, you might want to figure out which part of the knife is the pointy end, if you get my drift.

 The Elders are reacting as you'd expect. They're calling in their favors and gathering their forces. War is brewing and it won't be more than a few more nights before everything boils over.

 My suggestion is to pick a side or flee the city. Quite a few already have."

Nodding his head, Hank made a grim face,

"You're right, of course. I'm going to at least figure out how to run quick enough to find a safe place, but I appreciate the insights." he said thankfully.

At the next portion, he frowned,

"Only a few nights? What's happening in the next few nights that would trigger a war?" he was curious if this was a generality, or something specific he was referencing.

 Cyrus thought for a moment before leaning in conspiratorially. "Word is, Milo was kidnapped by Reginald."

Hrafen's eyes shot open in surprise,

"Really?!" he paused himself, as this was terrible news. Milo was a true asset to everybody in the kindred community, no matter which side of the fence they sat on. "Has anybody actually spoken with Reginald? Seen what's changed? Why he's doing these things? Is it planned? Tactical?" he tried to stay generic with his questions, but he was hoping for a little bit more, now that he'd heard this.

 Cyrus scoffed. "Speak? With Reginald? You'd have to be suicidal. If the Sabbat didn't kill you for being Camarilla, the Camarilla would for being a possible traitor. We don't know why Reginald does the things he does. What we do know is that, when he moves, he moves fast. That's why I say we have a night, three tops, before this city goes to hell."

Frowning, Hrafen nodded,

"That makes sense." he paused, thinking for a moment.

Smiling, he added, "Well, I suppose that gives us all a day or three before we need to duck and cover." he shrugged, "A lot can happen in a day." he said, leaving it open-ended in case Cyrus wanted to add anymore. Letting him direct the conversation would tell Hrafen a lot about what he personally felt about the whole situation.