The other Invictus smiled and nodded to each other, and Viktor, if the movement of his shoes was any indication, seemed pleased by Jack's response. He used the correct address to his superior, he upheld the value of the Masquerade, and he made it in the context of business. Point for you, Jack.
"Well spoken Master Terry. The Invictus do not waste resources on pointless acts of pride. The First Estate was not built on juvenile jousts." He gave a nod, and went on his way. The crowd returned to its chitchat, and Jack more than once heard his name. Not exactly the way he wanted others in the Invictus to learn about him, but not bad at all.
"Well spoken indeed, Master Terry." Vanna gave him a small nod and walked after Viktor to join in whatever conversation they had planned.
Once Jack glanced back to his sire, Julias gave him a grin. Jack couldn't help but grin back. This wasn't so bad.
"May I present Alder Antoinette, Prince."
Jack turned at the sound of the announcer. Alder Antoinette? The Prince wasn't Invictus. But then, Julius said she was regularly invited, so perhaps she liked to play to their etiquette?
When the crowd shifted to look, Jack found himself staring at the backs of many other Invictus, and no way to see the Prince. He stepped to the side a little further, and a little further still, until he was leaning over one of the seats on the side of the great hall to see. No one was looking at him or his goofy pose, and damn it he really wanted to see the Prince.
He almost fell into the chair once he did.
If he didn't know better, he'd think it were some kind of story or fairy tale character he was looking at. The Prince was very, very tall. She had a foot of height on him, so that she was even taller than Julias or Viktor. Her dress was very long, smooth, elegant, tasteful but gloriously sexy in its black curves and subtle sparkle. This Daeva did not care for the frilly dresses the Invictus wore. It seemed she preferred more formfitting dresses.
That form was fitting to be sure. She wasn't just tall, she was a deadly creature of lean physique but also glorious curves. The hips, the waist, the absolutely massive breasts. Jack's jaw was hanging open, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Her hair was wavy, long, like some sort of princess, but it was white. Pure white. And unless he was seeing things, the iris of her eyes were red. White hair, but she didn't look old at all.
A quick glance to Julias, and his sire gave him a nod of knowing. She was both unusual looking, and absolutely beautiful.
She was making her way through the crowd. She was shaking hands, nodding, exchanging momentary courtesies with the triumvirate before moving onto the ancillae. She ... she was greeting the neonates. She was greeting the paiges! Every Kindred she passed, it seemed she greeted, and she was getting further through the crowd.
"Mister Mire. It has been weeks since your request. Has it gone well?"
Her voice carried just a hint of French, and was smooth like her dress. Her lips were red against her milky white skin, and her eyes were indeed red too.
"I have, your Excellency. May I present Master Terry, my childe."
Jack slowly, so very slowly, raised his head to look up at the Prince. She was looking right at him, right into him, with her red eyes and her red smile. God she was beautiful. The beast in him was both stricken with fear from the power that dripped from the Prince, but also awe-struck with her. As a Daeva, it was only expected she'd have spent a long time making herself look beautiful, but the sheer confidence she displayed was overwhelming. Even those around who must have been intimidated by her massive height were watching her with hungry eyes.
"Master Terry. Tell me child, what is your first name?"
" ... J-Jack, your Excellency."
"Master Jack Terry. I am pleased to make your acquaintance." She gave him a small nod, and continued on her way.
When she moved, everyone stepped aside for her with lowered heads and roaming eyes. She was Jessica Rabbit with white hair and a black dress. Even just how she walked in those heels was mesmerizing, complete with a hip sway that demanded everyone's gaze. The dress left her back wholly exposed, and her height only served to emphasize the long, enticing curve of her spine down to the small of her back. Her lengthy attire, sliding along the clean floor behind her, was split at the hip and left one of her legs exposed, and Jack's eyes opened a little wider each time she took a step with her right leg to bare the long, milky, toned limb.
He would have been drooling if he could salivate. He didn't even look around, just at her. The rest of the ball had gone on about its business, and Antoinette was talking with Garry and Viktor up on the balcony. When feeling returned to his limbs, Jack turned to look to Julias, and his sire gave him a small shrug.
"She likes to know everyone's name."
"Everyone's? I ... that ... what." He took a moment to look around at the other paiges, and they too were watching after the Prince, as confused as he. "Why?"
"Because she's good at what she does." Julias walked up to Jack, and motioned for him to follow. "She and her Sheriff are the only Ordo Dracul we know of in the city, and yet she is Prince. Never underestimate her, Jack. She is cunning, intelligent, and dangerous." Soon, the two of them found a caterer, and like a couple of snobs, were drinking blood from expensive wine glasses.
"Indeed. The Prince is both a beautiful and deadly ally."
Jack and Julias turned at the sound of another. A woman, dressed in a conservative white dress of minimal frills. She was only as tall as Jack, and even thinner than he. Her features were soft, skin almost obsidian, and her long black hair was kept smooth to her back.
"Ah, Miss Pol. May I introduce Master Terry, my childe."
"Charmed." She gave a small curtsy, and Jack replied with a small bow. His insides weren't freaking out with fear, but were instead comparing itself against this new creature. She couldn't have been very old.
"Miss Pol is Mekhet, and recently ended her paige-hood and became a neonate with the Invictus. You met her sire at the reception of Xnomina. The Madam Jenning."
Gloria Jenning. She'd called him small, but maybe it was a flirtation? Miss Pol was certainly small.
"That is correct, Most Admirable Mister Mire. I am pleased to know my name is not forgotten. The Invictus grow large."
"You are most welcome. Master Terry and I were discussing the faces of those he does not yet know. It is his first time at the ball," Julias said.
"Then I am sure his mind must be reeling with the names and faces and customs." She stepped toward Jack, and he stood his ground. There was a glint of something in her eyes, awareness perhaps, or intrigue. "I bid you farewell, Master Terry."
And like that she was gone. Jack scratched at his buzzed hair, and looked back to Julias with confusion on his face.
"Um ... what was that?"
"She was introducing herself. Now you know who she is, she knows who you are, she knows you know who she is, and who her sire is, and her current progression in the ranks, and she knows I remember her." Julias made some puppeteer motions with his hands. "All from thirty seconds of her time."
" ... damn. This will take some getting used to."
"You have all the time in the world now." Julias gave him a pat on the back. "Come on, I'll introduce you to some more, less threatening people. Then we're out of here. I got a date."
~~Beatrice~~
Was she nervous? When was the last time that happened?
Beatrice stood in front of her mirror in her home, far from her feeding den at the cemetery. It was an abandoned old apartment building, and other Carthians went there to sleep, deep in the Prince-sanctioned district of the Carthians, where they were safe. Likely safe, anyway. It was old, dusty, falling apart, and rats outnumbered them a thousand to one. The only thing they were safe from was Invictus invasion, not from the building falling on their heads.
But it was quiet. And some nice Mekhet had even stolen them power and, fucking hilariously, internet. There was a laptop next to her, complete with running music. She was a metal fan, naturally.
Nude in front of her mirror, and adjusting her hair in preparation for her date. Could she even call it a date? She'd saved the fucking Invictus's life, he owed her one, and this was what she was wasting that favor on. Well, fuck Garry, he'd said the Carthians needed to bide their time and wait, and she was going stir crazy. Julias would prove an interesting distraction.
Her crocodile smile emerged. Julias was interesting. Dude had full-on popped a boner underneath her. Now that had been unexpected. The great and mighty Julias, right hand of Viktor Honors, ladies man and walking sex in a suit, was turned on by her, monster chick in the cemetery. He'd said he hadn't been with a vampire in decades, so maybe he was sick of ... well, vampires. Scheming, manipulating, selfish, conniving leeches, completely predictable and yet you could never tell what they were thinking or planning. She fucking hated that shit.
She adjusted the piercings in her nipples. Her breasts weren't large, but they certainly weren't small. They were tight against her muscular form though. She had the body of a fighter, complete with ripped six-pack of abs, defined serratus muscles, wicked V-cut hips, and some thickness to her arms. She'd been a fitness instructor when she was alive, beautiful and a master gymnast, flexible, lean, strong. Gorgeous.
" ... and then some fucking bastard Nosferatu with a sick fetish for me turned me against my will, then gets executed by the Prince for siring without permission. So poor ole Beatrice gets left without a sire to fend for herself in a broken system overflowing with predators. Sob sob, weep weep." She eased her claws down her mirror, and her long tongue sneaked out to lick at her huge extra teeth. It really was a sad story, but that was twenty years ago. She'd moved on. She was a monster and human interaction was not going to happen; even the vampires avoided Nosferatu as monstrous as she.
"So, then there's Julias." She flicked at the dangling bit of metal chain from her navel piercing and rubbed at the tattoo of the skull where her pubic hair should have been. She always did prefer the shaved look when alive — the tattoos and piercings came after. "What the fuck is up with him?" Her claws clicked at the assortment of piercings dangling from her ears, then the one hooked into her right nostril, before tracing the tattoo of a snake that danced along her abs until it bit into her right nipple. Her first few years into the world of darkness had been quite the roller coaster.
"This another trick? More Kindred shit? This all some ploy to get information about the Carthians from me?" She threw on a white tank top, black jeans, and army boots. "We'll fucking see."
Julias was waiting for her at the cemetery. Fucker was dressed in a casual suit, no tie but with a nice jacket and some loose cuffs. Her teeth clicked side to side. Ventrue really knew how to wear a suit.
"Beatrice," Julias said. He gave her a small wave.
" ... did you just wave at me?"
"Yes. Was ... I not supposed to?"
"Arg." Ten seconds into this exchange and she was already thrown off her game. Julias was smarter than her, older, and if she wasn't careful he'd get into her head and who fucking knows what with his Ventrue fucking Jedi powers. "Look. We're doing this because I want to. No manipulative shit, no schemes, no bids for power." She walked up to him and put her claws against his chest. "If I figure out you're trying anything, now or later, I'll rip out your entrails and leave you for the sun."
"Of course." Julias didn't back down, he didn't even flinch, he just smiled at her. What the fuck was his problem?
"Think I'm joking?"
"No! No, I don't, I—"
"Good. So, you owe me one, and this has nothing to do with Garry or Viktor or whatever fucking games our bosses are playing. I need some R&R and you're going to provide. Take me to dinner."
"Dinner? I'm not sure what—"
"Take me someplace nice ... ish, someplace you frequent. Someplace where we can sit down and enjoy a nice meal between us with no violence or screaming."