Five Weeks (open)

"I'm probably one of the few who admit to not fantasizing about having sex with you aren't I?"

She laughed.

"You're one of the few who admit fantasizing about me at all."

"It would be pretty pointless to deny what would be an obvious truth for many people. In fact denying it only makes things worse. Admit to it, man up, move on. Our brains are wired to admire beauty. Big deal."

She smiled again.

"But I'm a scary Tremere. Whoooooo," she said, twirling a finger.

Victor shrugged and laughed. "That and five bucks will get you a cup of nasty coffee at Starbucks I'm told.Although seriously, you guys try too hard sometimes."

Her brow rose.

"How so? I'm sure my Elders would love to hear it."

Victor sighed.

"Do you want an honest, outside view? Or is this going to put me on some Tremere hit list, because I'm not in the mood for that, you can imagine things aren't exactly sunshine and roses now for me with them."

She smirked.

"Give me an honest answer. It isn't going to put you on a hit list. We've been insulted before and by those with a lot more malice."

"Actually this isn't even an insult. It's observation."

"The Tremere are the nouveau riche of the Kindred world. They lack heritage and culture, so they made, or rather preempted and stole their own. Now this in and of itself wouldn't have to be bad, but what you've got is this pastiche of faux sophistication, coupled with the near maniacal obsession with power and a constant need to prove themselves. What ultimately develops is a native Tremere culture, one born of instilling fear and mystery,  of presenting themselves as all powerful and all capable, and not making any sort of real effort to just... relax.  They stole magic from the Tzmisce, nearly wiped out the Salubri for god knows why stupid reason, and then decided to appoint themselves nobility by virtue of raw power... and then failed to develop that nobility which they should have taken the time to steal with their magic. The end result? A powerful, scary clan that has power like a Tzmisce, wants the nobility of a Ventrue, and has failed, despite having had plenty of time, to develop the culture and integration into society that other clans have."

Victor tapped his finger on the desk for a minute.  "Think the difference between the Queen of England and the King of Saudi Arabia.  The Tremere are like the Saudis."

She listened, her head slightly inclined - then she smiled.

"You're hardly the first to make that observation, Victor. The truth is that many people, many Kindred think that exact same way. You're just sitting in a room with one of the Tremere who will listen and not just decide that you suck and that's all there is to it. Now, to a certain extent, I'll agree with you. We do try, very hard, to gain respect. Some of us even want to gain the fear from those around us, as we see even other Kindred as inferior. 'Look what we did, we didn't even need help to make this happen' sort of mindset. Some, like myself and Oriella, are a little more laid-back, more open. And that's why people love us. We're receptive to others and give in return the trust, respect and love that people shower us with. Frankly, the Tremere tend to be rather misogynistic in both their quests for power and in the way that we are treated among ourselves, so the women tend to be underestimated a whole lot more. The Tremere with tits tend to try harder than the men do, simply by virtue of the fact that we tend to be spit on - not just by other Clans but within our own."

"Oh I hardly think it's an original observation. If more Tremere were like you, by and large I think the Ventrue would have a run for their money as entrenched leaders. Anyway, it is what it is. I'm not going to change the public perception of the Tremere, nor their internal policies."

She smiled.

"No, you won't. And that's a pity, really it is. If more were like me and Orie, the world would be a better place, too. But they aren't and things are what they are. At this point, those of us that don't want fear from everyone and everything around us might eventually seen as individuals. It's why those like us are so often Primogen - we give the Clan a better face than the one that is initially presented."

"I hate to pull the Ventrue are better than you card, but this is one case, where I think our Romanesque republican style methods have really paid off over the last few thousand years. Aside from ensuring things stay fresh and reasonable, it gives a voice to all who care to participate, and the fact that Republican Rome is still held as an inspiration for a government model among the mortals, shows it's probably the right path. Steal that and in a few decades the Tremere will show real change."

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, hush. Ventrue are not better than us. They just do things differently."

"The last nation I saw ran along Tremere lines attempted to destroy all of Western civilization and eradicate several cultural groups at the same time... just sayin' But they were really classy dressers, I'll give them that."

Victor smiled "Everyone has problems and shortcomings though, so it's largely moot and academic at this point. Also, I have black licorice."

She wrinkled her nose.

"I hate licorice."

"You know, that surprises me. I've always loved the smell."

She smiled.

"The smell is fine. The taste is gross. And no, I never took to absinthe, either."

"Never cared for that myself. But I was raised in a house that very rarely drank. It took the accident that destroyed my knee to make me turn to intoxicants."

She smiled.

"I'm Scottish. We all drank like fish."

"My family all somehow went from being Catholic to Presbyterian, no clue why, but grandfather and grandmother were not very religious, nor were my parents, so it may have been more the dominant social scene. Other than a few experimental drunks as a teenager, I never really took up drinking until I was staggering around the docks after leaving the hospital, came upon a sailor sneaking a drink and gave him a ten dollar gold piece for his bottle, with the promise I wasn't going to fire him... Opium came shortly thereafter, and cannabis indica."

She smiled.

"We were pretty simple. Whisky - what you call 'scotch' - and beer, primarily. I never really grew too fond of alcohol in general, though I can put some away. Wine, I like to drink, but if I'm honest, really only with meals or in stressful situations."

"We had tiny glasses of schnapps at the holidays, or Scotch, the odd weak beer and wine for company."

She smiled.

"We were pretty simple folk. I'm pretty sure I was weaned off of mother's milk and straight to the whisky bottle."

"You know, and I'm sorry, I literally cannot imagine growing up the way you did, in the time and place you did. I want to keep thinking it must have been horrible be be a Scot in that time, and probably worse for the Irish. "

Victor sighed and took another drink. "I nearly bankrupted myself as a mortal during the Potato Famine you know..."