You Called ... ? - Marvin's Haven

There was a light, muffled, polite rapping at Marvin's door.

Marvin opened the door. " good evening lady Victoria. Please come in and be comfortable. "

The woman was dressed in a style from a long-gone era. But her perfectly sculpted, rosebud of a mouth was caught between a half-smile and a half-smirk. (Appearance 7) She stepped inside with a slow glance around.

"Good evening, Marvin of the Clan of the Moon."

Without confirming that it was Marvin she spoke with. She just knew.

He smiled and closed the door behind her. His haven was exceedingly neat and everything was placed into neat orderly lines. The furniture was of the sort of solid comfortable sort someone raised around very sensible Yankees would buy. Two leather recliners and a matching couch dominated the living room.

"I regret I don't have anything to offer you to drink" he said easing himself onto the couch.

She waited until he was seated to sit herself. Once she did, she crossed her ankles in a very lady-like fashion, and waved one hand in the air. In a slow circle, and a bottle appeared in her hand. She smiled pleasantly.

"I brought wine, if you would like."

"Thank you" he said standing up to accept the bottle. "Let me pour you a glass. I think I saw you at the charity auction?"

She smiled, but offered him the bottle.

"Likely. I tend to make a bit of a fuss whenever I decide to go out. Not intentionally, of course, it just sometimes happens."

He returned a few moments later with the wine in two glasses. Offering her one, he sat back down. "Perhaps, but one of your appearance, and lineage is bound to create quite an impression."

She accepted the glass with a gracious nod of her head.

"Thank you. I find it amusing that my appearance tends to cause more of a stir than my lineage. One would think it should be the other way around."

"Ahh but I didn't know your lineage until after you had left. A beautiful person with unnatural beauty is one thing. When that person is also Victoria d'Tzmisce then it becomes something even more. I was somewhat surprised when the Sheriff referred you to me. I would have expected being sent to someone closer to my own station."

Her lips curved upward with a smile.

"Ra'idah Tahan, for all her faults, knows where the quality lies. Add to it that I am the only Tzimsice in the recent vicinity even remotely close to your station -- and even then, it's not close at all, is it? -- she did refer you to the proper person. In all manners and respects."

Humble, this one. Sure she was.

"Close only if you are a tolerated neonate with negative standing" he chuckled

"Nonetheless I am honored you agreed to speak with me to help better understand your family and the propaganda of the Tremere."

She leaned back in the chair, getting a bit more comfortable. With a sip of her glass, she looked quite intrigued.

"Of course, Marvin of the Clan of the Moon. What is it that you would like to know?"

He took a drink from his own glass and smiled.

"I've learned of their campaign against the Salubri, and of how they created themselves. Now I applaud the ingenuity of creating one's own clan and bloodline, but creating a campaign of genocide, and a massive propaganda effort to mask their actions is not something I appreciate. Being lied to is never pleasant. Add to the fact my family tends to see the Tremere as nearly enlightened themselves, and yours in a very unfavorable light, I want to understand where the lies are and what the truth is."

"Already I see the Tremere are not as enlightened as they are made out to be, and you are the first Tzmisce I have ever met."

She tilted her head for a moment while she watched him.

"Marvin of the Clan of the Moon, it would take me many weeks to describe to you the actions of the Tremere that I have seen. I cannot do anything about the way your clan views mine, other than to say that, as the Tzimisce line, those misguided fools whose minds have been tainted, are largely known to be the leaders of the Sabbat. This is why your clan and every other hates them so. Of the Tzimisce, those who know the truth of the nobility of my lineage will be more than happy to speak with you about just what the family is truly like. I cannot begin to rectify your misconceptions if I do not know what your misconceptions are."

"I have been taught your line is vile and reprehensible. Something to be avoided or even destroyed. Perhaps that is because of the side that adheres to the Sabbat. "

He chewed on his lower lip and looked at the Tzmisce. "I am reasonably satisfied that the Tremere have lied about themselves and others, and that all are not as they seem to be with your line. I have my own grudge against the Tremere. They created technomancy, and hold such a thing to themselves. It is an affront to those who have worked to create true technology, and a vileness that debases the foundation of the modern world with no way to stop it. As a mortal I worked from the shadows, guided by others still who lived in the shadows. There I had success. I would do so again if there was a way. Once I was proud to associate with Tremere, I am now disgusted by it. I would like to learn more truths about the Tremere and your people. Lores if you will, and would like to make a deal if possible."

She waved a hand, almost dismissively.

"If you wish to learn, I will consider teaching you. Unfortunately, my dear Marvin of the Clan of the Moon, I doubt you have anything that would be of interest to me to learn from you. This is not an insult, it is fact. As for the Tremere being liars and thieves, that much is true. But so are all Kindred, if you truly sit and consider it, so if your only grudge against them is that they were gifted with the ability to outsmart mortal technology, then you have a misguided hatred."

"That is a professional grudge. What I dislike more is how they can lead such a propaganda and misinformation claim to disguise they fact that they are in fact evil, self centered elitists."

"About the only thing I have ever found I can offer an Elder is my skill with technology. Many simply do not take the time, or have not had the interest in it. Unless there is some other way I could serve you for that information."

She smiled at him, somehow still managing to look pleasant, though the woman who sat across from him was anything but human. She didn't even bother to look humane. Coupled with her unearthly beauty, the look of the predator that just seemed to shroud her like an aura was enough to be quite unsettling.

"My dearest Marvin of the Clan of the Moon, I am sure I will find a use for you at some point. For the time being, though, let us concentrate on the discussion at hand. The problem that I can see with your logic is that most, if not all, Kindred are, as you put it, 'self-centered elitists.' The difference between the Tremere and everyone else is that the Tremere try to hide it. They put up a wall because they want to appear dark and mysterious and spooky, but in reality, they just end up looking like idiots, or worse, show the world what they truly are. Their efforts with the Nosferatu and the Gangrel are proof of that, even without the issues that arose with my own Clan and those of Saulot's lineage."

"Gangrel and nos ?" He said puzzled. "I don't know about that one. "

With another wave of her hand, an image appeared, floating above her palm and turning. He could see it easily, though. It was a large image.

"The Tremere have always been known to try their experiments. To what end, I do not know. This is a race of vampiric servants known as a Gargoyle. The Tremere would take a Gangrel and a Nosferatu, and create these creatures from the two. With the mentality of a child, their will stripped away, the Tremere use them as guardians and servants. There was once an uprising, the Gargoyles finally wishing freedom from their abusive, vampiric masters, killing hundreds of Tremere to get away. Most were cowed, others killed, but a free-roaming Gargoyle is a nightmare for any Camarilla city. A walking Masquerade breach, their stony flesh makes them appear as walking statues. They have no option but to hide and feed in utter secrecy, even worse than the Nosferatu, who have been cursed with excessive deformity and an ugly countenance. However, the Gangrel Clan and the Nosferatu Clan have not forgotten those who have been turned into these creatures against their will. There is no way to separate Outlander and Sewer Rat once the Gargoyle is created, so the Tremere, as much as they speak of their love for the Camarilla, routinely would break several Traditions in just one creation."

She shrugged one shoulder.

"Other clans were used to Create Gargoyles as well, in an attempt to create the perfect servant. Combat capable and beautiful, the Tremere's experiments continue. It has faded from common practice in these nights, but it has not stopped entirely. Once, I was destined to be turned into one of these creatures."

"That... Is far from enlightened. Or civilized " he said while disgust crossed his face

The image above her hand vanished. She offered him a smile.

"That depends entirely on your definition of each, Marvin of the Clan of the Moon. The Tremere tend to be half-sorcerer and half-mad-scientist. I've seen many who are just as kind as others, but often, they hold to their experimental roots and their experimental treatments."

"Mad scientist is fine if you are properly mad. It sounds as if they crossed too many lines and have spent centuries blaming others and covering up. And your family , those who reject the sabbat. What do you .... Do?"

Her brow rose.

"Those of us who reject the Sabbat? We tend to keep to ourselves and simply survive. We typically just like to be left alone. We will help if asked, depending upon the cause, but primarily? We enjoy our solitude and our continued existence. Nothing more, nothing less."