Welcome to Gaia! ::

"My home is as long gone and deeply buried as your own, but thank you. This place suits both my needs and my image among the mortal world."

Lips moved, voice sounded, and only AFTER did full motion and human like demeanour return to the austere woman seated near the book case against the far wall.

"Image can mean a lot, and perception is important. How do you perceive me, Dagoth? Be honest."

A delicately quirked brow accompanied the question. In her own home, the Lady was dressed in slightly worn black trousers, a striped long sleeve top with a tiger pattern to it, and nothing else. She looked normal, and as out of place against the stately surroundings as Dagoth himself.

Elsewhere in the home, Jan was being effective as always, and doing as he had said he would. Dagoth was in no danger of losing his items.

"Ever heard the expression 'It's always the quiet ones...'? A well founded and confident warrior doesn't need to brag, or even look dangerous. It's something people simply sense, just as you sense it.

I appear simplistic, however the nature of what I am, and perhaps WHO I am, warns people away. Crowds part subconsciously, because I am, as you say, a predator. No matter what clothing I choose... I can't stop being a shark."

She didn't make a move towards him. She'd asked a question, he'd answered it. She DID light a smoke however, and recross her legs.

"As for you... I see you as someone with acute instincts, though they need refining. Well trained instincts will save your life, show you things your conscious brain misses.
For example, you just turned the question back on me... your instincts have already figured out the first rule of being a student around me.

Everything is a test. Everything.

Sometimes there are multiple right answers. Sometimes there are none, the test is simply in how you fail, or what you do. Sometimes, there is only one answer. So long as you act on hot headed impulse, instead of well honed instinct, you will not graduate. however that is why you came to me to teach you, is it not?

I perceive you as clay to be moulded. A canvas with paint applied, but lacking tone or shading to bring out the full picture. A caged lion, waiting to master fear of fire, ready for the ring.

I perceive you as mine, Dagoth. Just as I expect you to succeed, I expect great things of myself to ensure you do so. To that end... you are mine.

Understood?"

A quirked brow was again her only overt motion in terms of what she had just said, despite the weight of it.
Inhaling on her smoke, she exhaled the first smoke ring of the day, a slight smile on her lips.

"Heh heh...."

She sat back as he ranted, enjoying her smoke, and smirking.

"Rule One. Everything is a test.
Rule Two. Words are important."

Tapping ash into a tray at her side, she stood up and went to the window, turning her back to Dagoth.

"I perceive you as mine, expect you to succeed and expect of myself great effort to ensure this. To THAT end... you are mine."

Listen, perceive, read between the lines, train your instincts to see these things, not what your conscious minds believe to be the case due to your own insecurities and past.

You are my responsibility, and mine to teach UNTIL success. And IF I had meant it otherwise, and you accepted it, you would have the loophole to get out of.
On the other hand, of course, your very bloodline doesn't make your own word binding so the latter doesn't matter so much."

Everything was a test. And Dagoth had, inevitably, failed the first one. It was part of the learning process, and not to his detriment to have done so. Indeed, Roan had a soft smile on her face as she watched the moonlight playing in the fountain pool, while her cigarette slowly dwindled.

"Don't ever fool yourself I'm anything LESS than a puppet-master, Dagoth. Not only am I kindred, not only am I Brujah and old enough to be scholarly Brujah, I'm also a DeSeer. It's in me to be conniving and manipulative.
Indeed, there's only one I woudl name as being definitively better at being such than I."

Turning back, she regarded his weapon and smiled, gently pushing it back towards him.

"For the first part, I trust you. For the second, if I didn't, it still wouldn't matter. For the third... I have given my word to teach you until you have succeeded. From that... there IS no escape for you. Whether you like it or not.

Keep it, you will need it soon enough. I don't want to have to start you doing training kata's with a new weapon you aren't completely comfortable with.
For now though, you should get settled into you rooms and take a day or two to familiarise yourself with the house and its layout. It will be important, in time.

You know I'm a predator Dagoth. You know I kill to survive. Rule 3.... never give your primary weapon up when you just might need it. No matter what. The weapon is an extension of the self. Do not offer such to me, unless you change your mind and ARE comfortable with me possessing you in such a way."

Another slow smile, followed by flopping back into her seat.

"Good. Learning already, I approve. Most bear's only kill you though, they dont bring you back."

She paused to let the statement sink in. Then register fully. Then gain 'test' recognition. THEN she carried on.

"That was Jan. He's my ghoul, and.... Jan. He is who he is. Treat him with respect. He is far more than just some blood crazed minion. He is... Jan."

For the first time, the woman seemed to waver and find herself at a loss for words while in Dagoth's presence. As if she couldn't find a single descriptive component to say whatever it was Dagoth would no doubt see in her face when talking of the man. She finally gave up trying, and shrugged, stating the obvious...

"I don't need a bodyguard. Jan is Jan. You'll find him in the main hall, and he'll take you to your room on the second floor. I hope it is to your liking, let me or the staff know if you need anything."

And so it would be, with Dag's room being very similar to that in which Nine's was currently housed, especially as Dag's room was to be opposite.

Inclining her head to Dagoth as he left, she stayed sitting, lighting a second cigarette as she stared blankly ahead once more, lost in thought. A few minutes later, it was broken by the sound of the door reopening, though she knew it wasn't Dagoth coming back.

"I don't agree, incidentally. I think you wear it better than I."
"Gracious of you to say, but we both know I creak around the edges."
"I think that's what I mean..."
"Nine's makes you remember the pain you have always felt and hidden, Dagoth makes you accept some things aren't human and that it can't be changed. And for now... Corbin reminds you of children you never had."
"Some days I don't like your perception..."
"I know your moods, Roan. Do not envy me, just as I don't do so with you. We are what we are. This is the point you made to the new tenant, is it not?"
"From a vastly different point of view... yes."
"Not so different. All that matters is what you do now, and why. Why HAVE you come to this decision?"
"I... don't know. Especially with the kid. Nine's... Dagoth.... I don't know. Something inside me kept stabbing me, yelling at me that I should be helping, or at least trying to protect them."
"You are finally calm enough to remember you are a woman, even if you are Kindred, prehaps?"
"Or my Beast merely wishes to continue its legacy. I have fought THAT war with myself long enough to know that my Beast can be patient, cunning and underhanded when it so wishes..."
"Even if that turns out to be so, so long as you act in the best interests of the... guests... instead of yourself..."
"It is the best I can do."
"You are what you are."

Only after the conversation was finished did she turn her head and actually look at Jan. The neat, trim butler had relented and popped the top button of his shirt, discarding waist coat and tie, shoes and gloves. With Dagoth settled, he was off duty for the rest of the night.
A small gesture was all it took to bring him to Roan's side, a bond Dagoth had only been able to guess at renewed while watching the moonlight move across the sculpted lawns.
Come dawn, Jan was alseep, Roan was in her own suite, and the house sighed quietly with the motions of the small staff team cleaning the extensive rooms.

...only to spin around as the door slammed itself shut behind her and she heard the lock shoot into place. So fast did it occur, a breeze even stirred her hair, and, as should be expected.. no amount of tugging at the handle or fiddling the key in the lock re-opened the portal.

“What the...?”
“Mistress...”

The voice behind her was more surprising than the door shutting of its own accord, however a sixth sense sent cold shivers up her spine, making her turn slowly to look back at Corbin...
What she saw was not what was expected. No longer did a limp figure lay against the wall as if sleeping. Instead, a black haired man of about 25 gazed back at her, sat up with one hand indolently resting on an upraised knee. Indigo had replaced the dark circles under the eyes, and tinted the man's lips too. Carefully trimmed facial hair added to the ethereal beauty he exuded like a perfume, causing Roan's mouth to gape soundlessly. Casually, the male reached into a shirt pocket, manacles about his wrists clinking as he pulled out a fine cigar, then lit it with a lighter from immaculate leather trousers. Not, of course, the outfit that Corbin had been dressed in mere moments earlier. Closing his eyes as he exhaled, she would later swear she heard the man chuckling, at her expense no less.

“Words are so important, are they not? The promise of an action incites more readily than the action itself, judgements are made on descriptions before actuality is seen, and discord is sown with a mere sentence...”
“Who the hell... are you?”

Anger. Anger was always a good fall back. She could feel her claws extending as she widened her stance, despite knowing the man was chained to the wall. Something told her if he wished it... those chains would be as useful as if they were made of liquorice.

“You know who I am. My mistress.”

A smirk. Laughter in the man's eyes. Confidence. Her mind flashed back to what she had said to Dagoth the night before... no matter the clothing, predators always showed their true nature... she couldn't help being a shark. Watching the man smoke at her, she realised she'd gotten it wrong. She was a tiger. THIS man was a shark... something about that grin... And yet the words he spoke... Hell, the arrogance of the man answered the question in itself.

“Corbin...”

She knew she'd made a mistake the second she said it. Not in the identity, but in the action of speaking it. The moment the syllables left her lips, she staggered. The floor, comfortingly solid moments before, sank out from under her. Blood seeped around her boots, and whatever she stood on moved with a lurch. Looking down, she could see something large moving under the red, viscous surface. Glancing back at 'Corbin', she found she was no longer in the cell she remembered, but within a massive underground hall, marble pillars smeared with blood and disturbing depictions holding up the vaulted roof, stretching away into the distance.
Another lurch under her feet sent her sprawling, falling into the bottomless pool of blood around her. It cloyed at her nose and mouth as she swam for the surface, legs brushing things under the surface, until she broke through and spluttered foul ichor from her mouth. The rancid smell of age and decay permeated the room as she swam powerfully towards the nearest wall, staggering out onto a circle of stones clear of the pool.
The surface went still. Nothing moved. Coughing and choking on the scent of extremely potent elder vitae, she cast her gaze about the darkness desperately, looking for the way out. Part of her knew none of this was real, but the larger part of her knew dreams could kill and this wasn't an ordinary dream.

“Behind you...”

The voice was rich, seductive... that of the suave and disturbing man. Spinning, it wasn't him she saw, but instead the silently rising head of an ENORMOUS serpent. As blood slid from its scales, she realised it was naturally a bloody red in colour. It's head was the size of her entire body, and its length... it could only be guessed at.

“I said behind you...”

She didn't want to take her eyes of the menacingly hissing monster in front of her... but a second hiss behind DID cause her to turn. Twin to the first, the second serpent was jet black, and just as large. Side on, she glanced between the two, watching them sway in time with each other, churning up the blood and the stench of it until she felt physically sick. Almost driven to her knees with nausea, she barely caught the change in their motions, only just diving forwards away from twin sets of closing jaws before they closed over her.
Instead, the two snakes seemed to have bitten each other's tails. The hissing intensified as each started to swallow the other, working their disjointed jaws in tandem, walking their heads up each other's bodies, with herself stuck in the middle.

“Word's matter... and some alter reality in all ways... forever, stuck in a circle, stuck in a cycle... never breaking, never ending, always repeating, a gyroscope to balance the world, your world, my world, those of the others... never alone...”

She could hear the voice, but barely make out meaning as she scrabbled at the closing bands of scales, slick with blood, looking for a way out. A black scale broke off under her claws, breaking two of them with it, and in a panic she stabbed at the exposed soft flesh beneath. Black acid poured forth, scalding her hand, which she snatched back with a scream. Biting THROUGH the tail of its red counterpart, the black snake screamed in agony, its voice human, before crashing its head back into the viscous pool, closely followed by the now screaming red, who repeated the process on its twin.
Acid coated the circle of stones, eating them away while the pool spread towards Roan's boots. Left with no option... she dived back into the blood pool, swimming hard and fast for the distant and unseen end of the room, as far from the snakes as possible. Head beneath the surface, she felt like she was drowning, despite needing to draw no breath. Holding on as long as she could, she broke the surface at last, and found a set of stone steps rising before her, down which the blood cascaded.
Hauling herself out, she shook her head vigorously, splattering blood on the nearest pillars before, left with no other choice, she began to ascend the steps.

At two thirds of the way up, she realised she was not alone. Passing two obsidian statues on a much bigger step, she realised moments later that they were no more inanimate than she. Twin black lions, they kept pace with her, never looking at her, silent, as she climbed. If she stopped, they stopped, looking at her expectantly. No feeling of threat came from the awesome animals, and with a shrug, she continued to the crest of the stair case.

A coffin lay raised on a gold pedestal, blood pouring from the seal around the lid. Chains wrapped around the coffin itself, securing it to the heavy pedestal, keeping the lid closed. Yet nothing stirred within save the steady stream of blood, no noise broke the silence. Stepping closer, Roan made out the markings on the perfectly clean lid. An eight pointed crest dominated the casket, words inscribed in an ancient tongue beneath it. In the back of her mind, she could feel Také yelling at her, telling her both the meaning of those words, written in his own language, and to wake the hell up, but it was if she was hearing him through muffling cotton wool, and he wasn't real...
Above the crest, there was a death mask made of silver. She recognised the face at once, and felt her anger returning. It poured through her like a wild fire in the outback, igniting everything it touched, fuelling her body with inhuman strength. Grabbing the nearest chain, she broke it with sheer force of power, tearing the links from the casket with wild abandon, before shoving off the lid.
Within... a desiccated mummy, not the suave young man she had expected. Blood seeped around it, welling up from nowhere it seemed, crawling upwards in defiance of gravity over the lining to pour down the outside of the casket without ever defacing the mummified remains.

“...the hell?”

She murmured quietly to herself, hesitating to reach in, before something struck her in the back and toppled her forwards. One of the lions had barrelled into her back, knocking her off balance so that her only option was to catch herself by shoving her hands in either side of the mummy, her tail lashing to get the big cat off.
Too late, however. The mummy's one remaining desiccated eye snapped open and it grabbed her upper arms with impossibly strong hands. Indigo hues locked with her own, and she found herself immobile.

“One blood. One purpose.”

The words it hissed out were raspy, but the voice was unmistakable... 'Corbin' sank fangs into the side of her neck before she could react, and darkness seeped across her vision.

Nines, during the time leading up until now, had remained mostly in his quarters. He was uncomfortable with the house, the arrangements involved...and he was still horrified at his situation. THe collars had never grown absent to his perception; he was every bit as keenly aware of their presence as the first night he had been forced to wear them. Scar tissue wrapped around his limbs beneath them where he had worried at them nightly, on instinct.

When leaving his room, he did so explicitly to do as he had been bid; to learn, bit by bit, some of the lore of what kindred were. Rarely were practical measures taken; he was not learning those well at all. He fared poorly with even the most basic of disciplines, and his prowess with healing his own wounds was still meager, at best.