Y07/09/09 Wayfarer's Forum

Cast: Celeste, Angelo, Martel, Chance, Luciano, Malcolm, Nelson, Melanie, Ali, Ethan, Evelyn, Alexa.
Location: Wayfarers Chapel - Palos Verdes - Torrance
Synopsis: Celeste Davis organizes one of her Wayfarer's Forums.

Wayfarers Chapel - Palos Verdes - Torrance

Within, the chapel is a realm of gentle light and subtle space; not at all like the cold stone wombs of other churches. Round windows stand over the entrance and the altar, symbolizing the all-inclusiveness of the Swedenborgian Church, the oneness of God, and the circle of life. Illumination is provided by indirect lamps and spotlights on the chancel, creating a soft, candlelight effect.
The weathered stone around the entrance makes for a gentle transition from the gardens to the chapel interior, and provides a clear sense of external space in balance with the inner. Beyond the clear glass walls the shadows of Nature's grandeur refuse to be ignored. The shafts of solemn redwood tree trunks cluster in the distance, past hill and stream and shrub, whilst still further, the stars shine bright across the horizon.

Angelo walks into the room, a shotgun strapped across his back. He doesn't look happy. He doesn't look like he's ever /been/ happy. Hell, he doesn't look like he knows how to /spell/ happy. But either way, he walks in and stands just inside the door and to the right, his back against a wall. He grunts.

Finally.. A little past midnight has arrived. Celeste Davis is standing at the end of the Chapel. Her hands behind her back. The blonde Ventruette glances over her shoulder and looks over Angelo a moment. She smiles but says, "I know you don't need to reminded.. But please don't use that unless someone attacks another person." She however, doesn't object to the presence of the shotgun.

His own arrival is somewhat fashionably late, but at least Martel is fashionably dressed. Despite the suspension of the dress code for the night, he shows up in suit and tie and looking cleaned and pressed. He nods to those already present, looking the chapel over with slow appraisal before he finally seems to nod his approval.

Angelo grunts. And really, a grunt can mean so many things. Does it mean 'okay'? Or perhaps, 'aww, you’re screwing up my fun'? It's also possible that this particular grunt meant, 'shut it woman, ill do what I like'. Either way, it's certain… The man grunts, and it's a practiced, perfected grunt, to tell the truth.

Chance enters the chapel by the main doors.
Chance has arrived.

Chance wanders in, hands in pockets. She pauses at the door, looking about, before moving in further, nodding to Celeste.

Martel offers a crisp, respectful bow to his prince as she arrives, and moves in her direction as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. "Good evening, Prince Marshall," he greets her politely.

Luciano enters the chapel by the main doors.
Luciano has arrived.

Celeste is at the very end of the chapel, near the altar. She's just turning around to face Angelo, who is by the door with a shotgun strapped to his shoulder. Martel has just entered as well. Celeste narrows her gaze toward Angelo a little. She nods faintly and says, "Hmm. Yes, that's what I thought." The Ventrue glances between Martel and Chance, frowning slightly. She dips into a low curtsey in Chance's direction. Murmuring, "Good evening, Prince Marshall." Then she stands and walks in Martel's direction. After he has finished bowing she'll hold out her hand to him.

Chance grins to Martel. "Evenin', Martel. Nice to see you. Hear you've been a *busy* boy. We should chat sometime soon."

Chance nods and gives a warm smile to Celeste, then to Angelo. "Evenin'," she offers.

A brow goes up at this, but Martel inclines his head deeply. "I am available at your leisure, Prince Marshall," he answers smoothly. As Celeste offers his hand, he takes it with a smile and delivers the formal kiss before releasing it. "Martel Charles Gabriel Turenne D'Enghien," he says to her gravely.

Angelo turns to nod at Chance, letting out a throaty greeting, "Prince Marshall." He then goes back to looking around, seeing who's about, then re-adjusting the shotgun strapped across his back.

A moment or two after Chance enters; Luciano walks into the Chapel. He is dressed informally - the same everyday clothes he uses. His hands buried into the coat's pockets, he looks up, giving a nod at everyone present in the room - though a deep one is given to Chance. "Good evening."

Celeste smiles toward Chance as well; a brief glance is given toward Angelo. And a smile. Back to Martel. She replies, "Celeste Davis, Chancellor of Torrance." She lifts a hand to gesture around the room, "And Keeper of the Wayfarer's Chapel Elysium. It is a pleasure to meet you, again." The Ventruette glances about the room. Nodding she says, "I am glad of this turn out. I propose we wait a few more minutes to see if anyone is arriving from farther out. And then begin discussion. Since this will be open discussion, you-" Her eyes scan over everyone in the room, "should decide what you would like to speak about."

Chance says, "I'm real fond of Torrance. Pyotr's been rather honest in his dealin's. I think that you girl, are a *damned* good choice for the job. Ain't easy thing to step into, here, but I think you'll do right well." She grins. She then looks at Angelo. "I think Pyotr's made some good choices all around. I know folks weren't too happy with him and I backin' each other up, but that's done with so hopefully those with objections will settle down into the here and now."

"Chancellor… an interesting title. A pleasure to meet you, Chancellor Davis." Martel's words are smooth and even, but as Chance and Celeste become more deeply involved in their conversation he falls silent and allows them to talk. He gives nods to the other arrivals, including Luciano, in a pleasant and stately manner.

It’s hard to tell what’s going through Angelo’s mind. He is just letting his gaze move around the room, taking each person in, in turn, then moving to the next. Funny thing about this guy, he's known to be one of those Nepha— Nephal— new clan, but he's got no wings on his back like the others are said to have.

Malcolm enters the chapel by the main doors.
Malcolm has arrived.

Celeste is standing not too far from Chance and Martel. Angelo is at the door with a shotgun strapped to his back. Luciano has just entered. The blonde Chancellor glances toward Chance. For a brief moment Celeste looks mildly surprised. Her chin dips respectfully to the Prince. "Thank you, Highness. I do my best for Domain and Sect. Not too mention my clan." She smiles faintly toward Martel. The Ventruette claps her hands a moment, then curls her fingers together. She turns and heads toward the front of the Chapel, toward the altar.

Malcolm is crisply clad in quite modern duds. Fashionable, young, and fiddling with his shades, he is nearly heard before he is seen. The powerful roar of his black Mercedes-Benz sedan's motor is cut short by the turn of his keys. The flashy, tall Ventrue adjusts his black blazer, smoothing down both sides, and walks through the doors regally and alertly, his sunglasses-hidden eyes scanning the Chapel with a cool nonchalance. His gaze first considers Angelo, nodding (in approval?) at the man before stepping further into the chapel. It is not Martel or Luciano or even Chance that he first greets, but Celeste. "Chancellor." Malcolm smiles quietly and removes his sunglasses. He half-bows, half-nods, before straightening to hold his hand out. "A delight."

Angelo looks to Malcolm, his expression unchanging. The only thing to come from him is a grunt. And ambiguous grunt.

Martel turns his head as Malcolm arrives, inclining his head politely to the new arrival. He then turns his head back towards the conversing ladies and continues to show quiet, polite interest as he listens rather than speaks.

Luciano gives Malcolm a slight nod, before glancing curiously at Celeste, then at Angelo. His gaze stays on Celeste for a longer time, however.

Celeste turns as the doors open again. Her blue eyes glance between Malcolm and Angelo a moment or two. She opens her mouth to say something to Angelo, and then thinks the better of it. Closing her mouth again, Celeste holds out her hand to Malcolm to allow him to kiss it. She says, "Always, sir." And then she glances toward Luciano, "I am Celeste Davis, Keeper of this Elysium. And Chancellor of Torrance. May I make your acquaintance?"

As Luciano glances at Angelo, Angelo grits his teeth, perhaps he is passing a kidney stone, or an 8-ball from the look on his face. Surely something transpiring does not please the man. He grunts.

Chastely brushing his lips on Celeste's fingers, Malcolm smiles mildly and lets go. Having addressed the Keeper and hostess, he has bigger things to move onto. "Your Majesty, all is well, I hope? There has been unsettling news, but it is old, unsettling news." He is remarkably polite and restrained, an attitude that contrasts heavily with his trendy gelled hair and new 'American' look suit. Or simply said, his words are almost awkward when he says them. He is awkward right now. Or perhaps he just seems uncomfortable.

Chance raises an eyebrow at Luciano's reaction to Angelo. She nods to Luciano and gives him a small smile. To Malcolm she inquires, "Unsettlin' news? Which is that? There's *always* rumors flyin', you know? Most of it is bullshit."

Celeste glances between Angelo and Luciano. She frowns rather deeply at the big grunty man. However, nothing is said for the moment. Her gaze remains politely on Luciano.

Nelson enters the chapel by the main doors.
Nelson has arrived.

"My name is Luciano de Mendes, resident of South Central and Leader of Ramona Gardens." Luc states in what could be a polite tone, if it wasn't a bit too high. "Nice to meet you."

Ali enters the chapel by the main doors.
Ali has arrived.

Malcolm lightens. Just a little bit. "It's a touchy subject. I don't really talk about weightless rumors, but this was posted in some of the major Elysium. You probably know what I am talking about. Maybe we can talk about it and I can help if there's anything to be helped, Chance?" He smiles. "Excuse me, Prince Marshall, I need to go and talk to my fellow clansman." He tilts his head towards Martel and nods at Chance. He drifts over to the man he indicated and offers his hand lightly. "Turenne. An honor as always. I expected to see you here, actually."

As for Nelson's set, yeah. Chance is nearby the hostess, Celeste, in the chapel. Angelo guards the gates with uncanny vigilance… and a shotgun. Luciano has approached or is by Celeste, addressing him, making introductions, etc. Malcolm is now approaching Martel. Incoming.

Martel shakes Malcolm's hand politely, still listening to the other business around the chapel as he gives the man a smile. "Thank you, and I would hope so. It was my intention to attend as soon as I heard of it. I would, as they say, not have missed it for the world."

Melanie enters the chapel by the main doors.
Melanie has arrived.

Nelson walks in through the glass doorway along with Melanie, pausing to nod at Angelo and company as he passes. He glances once around the chapel, then lets his attention fall on the persons assembled within. Whispering something to Melanie, he touches her shoulder lightly, then leads the way forward.

A lazy, languid pace carries Ali into the comforts of Wayfarers Chapel - her chin is up, her gaze is up, both per usual though it seems more out of curiosity today then any undue awareness. She glances toward Angelo, then lifts both of her palms as if to reinforce exactly how unarmed she appears to be. "Senor.", is the greeting toward him before she even bothers with the rest of the room.

Nelson whispers to Melanie, "… in… of…"

Angelo stands just inside the door, his back facing the wall. When Nelson walk in, he looks the man up and down, assessing something or other, then lets out an apathetic grunt, shifting the shotgun that's attached to his back a little, then glancing at Ali as she walks in, the shotgun shifts from back to his front, though he doesn't point or use it, just gets it a bit closer. He then grunts, glaring at the Brujah, and seeming to ignore all others in the room.

Melanie shoots Nelson a quizzical look, but shrugs and nods.

Celeste is near by Chance in the Chapel. Angelo is at the door with a shotgun, looking to be some sort of bodyguard. Malcolm and Martel are chatting. And Celeste and Luciano are speaking. However her attention turns onto Angelo. She sighs at him, "Angelo, please." The Chancellor turns to curtsey to the new arrivals. Calling, "Good evening Ladies, and Sir." She waves a hand toward the pews. Her voice raises to a level so that everyone can hear, "I believe we should start now. If everyone would please settle down and get comfortable. Prince Marshall, would you do the honor of opening discussions with whatever you would ever like to bring up at this Forum?"

Given the fact Angelo's chosen to not shoot her immediately, Ali continues a lazy, long-legged stride into the Chapel and glances sidelong as Celeste's words ring out. Her eyebrow lifts, ever so faintly, a smirk pulling before she takes up position leaning against one of the columns. Not sitting. No, leaning. She watches with idleness, no greetings given to interrupt anything — or maybe just not given.

Chance considers a moment, looks around the room to those assembled. "I think," she says carefully, "That perhaps I ain't the best person to be in the spotlight tonight. I wish you all a good evenin'. To those that I need talk to, Luciano, Nelson, *Martel*," she stresses the last name specifically, with some heat barely restrained, "I hope we'll be chattin' soon." The rest, other than Celeste, get barely any attention at all. She nods to Celeste and says, "I hope your evenin' goes well. Looks like you're doin' a right fine job. Thanks for the hospitality."

Nelson motions toward an empty pew for Melanie's benefit, then moves to it himself. He sits quite erect and remains silent. Staring toward the front, he observes everything.

Angelo about faces immediately as Ali walks past and turns toward the door, wandering out.

Angelo passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Angelo has left.

Melanie settles down into the pew next to Nelson.

Martel cocks his head toward Chance as he speaks and then considers the other names listed as well, then glances to Luciano for a moment. He stays silent for awhile, thoughtful, and then nods once to Chance. "Simply tell me where and when, Prince Marshall, and I shall be there. At your convenience." His tone is serious and his expression does not reveal what he might be thinking or feeling.

Celeste, for a very brief moment, grinds her teeth at Angelo's abrupt departure. And then it's smoothed away into a pleasant smile toward Chance. She curtsey's again, "Of course, Highness. Travel safe."

"Lord Regent Jacobs, what a pleasant surprise." Malcolm waves Nelson over to the Gentlemen Ancillae's corner, grinning cheerfully. Apparently, he seems to have recovered from his previous discomfort. "And you have brought the lovely Miss Hall." He grins charmingly at Melanie, before folding his hands behind his back. He leans a bit over, gesturing for Martel to slightly incline his head so that the slightly shorter but bulkier Ventrue can whisper.

Ali smirks faintly and folds her arms, adopting a high-schoolesque lean as she waits to see what the adaptation to this turn of events may be. She tosses a glance toward Luciano, then Nelson, then Martel and continues to bite back visible emotions. Kinda.

Chance gives a small bow to Celeste, clearly considering her worthy of the honor, then strides out of the room.

Chance passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Chance has left.

Nelson gives Chance a small nod of his head at her words, but then turns his attention to Celeste. As Malcolm speaks, he leans his head to the side, then raises his hand slightly before turning back to look forward.

Luciano gives Martel a brief glance, then gives Ali a greeting nod, and then walks in her direction.

Martel does, indeed, lower his head so that Malcolm may speak to him quietly. His expression is still neutral, but Malcolm clearly has his attention.

Malcolm speaks in a nonchalant tone. He whispers to Martel, "… our dear… that the anarchs decided… up… party?… the… we could…"

Ali tosses a playful wink toward Luciano, waiting until he approaches before she leans in and murmurs something quietly to him. She whispers to Luciano, "Who… in…"

"I will remind you, sir." Celeste's voice is sharp with distaste as her blue gaze turns onto Malcolm. Her hands loose at her sides, chin up. Proud. Celeste is a queen (at least in her own mind), and she isn't afraid to show it. Her gaze narrows into a withering stare. "I will remind you, Mr. McJames. That this is an Open Discussion Forum. Please, if you have something share." Her hand lifts to drift over the room, "Share it with the rest of us. For tonight we are all equal. We are all open minded individuals, coming together to discuss the greater, and poorer points of our race." She glances sharply toward Ali at her whispers as well.

Ali laughs, angling her head forward toward Celeste in a conciliatory motion. "Perdone, perdone - I was just returnin' MacJames the favor'a talkin' about him since he saw fit t'talk about me. I oughta do y'better in yer house, perdone."

Martel says to Malcolm, not whispering himself, "If you wish to do so, please be my guest. I will not stop you. That said, I prefer not to speak well or ill of my neighbors to others, but rather to tell them personally what I think of them if the need arises." He smiles pleasantly enough to Malcolm, before adding, "My apologies if this was not the answer for which you hoped, Mr. MacJames."

Luciano shrugs at Ali, turning to Celeste as she speaks and corrects Malcolm. His lips curl into a very slight grin.

Nelson leans back in the pew, still watching Celeste. As for the whispering and resultant correction, he hasn't seemed to notice.

Celeste glances toward Melanie and Nelson and smiles faintly. Tilting her head toward them in respect. Then she glances toward Luciano. She calls, "Lets begin. Mr. de Mendes, would *you* care to begin our conversation tonight?"

"Do excuse me, I should have known better." Malcolm grins disarmingly, bowing in Celeste's direction. "I just thought to mention to you, Chancellor, that the reputable Miss Alicia Santiago is present and she didn't seem to what to introduce herself, which would have been a shame, don't you think?" Grinning boyishly at his counterpart, he waves cheerfully at Ali. "I present a warm welcome, Miss Santiago, though I would guess that the Chancellor would want to do that instead." He nods in agreement with Celeste, though what the issue to be agreed on is anyone's guess. With an apologetic gesture towards Martel, he retreats to the pews, situating himself nearby but not next to Nelson.

"Where I come from, Senor MacJames.." Gah, the very name is tainted by dislike. "..it ain't polite t'interrupt a hostess when she's doin' her thing. Miss Davis an' I are acquainted enough that I'm sure she recognizes that I'm standin' here. That said, the whole world don't gotta turn an' say hi to make me feel important.", Ali replies easily, smirking as she twiddles her fingertips at Malcolm. "Bloody nice'a ya t'point me out though - in case there gits t'be an excess of tall Colombian woman at some point in time. I'm sure I kin always count on ya." That said, she falls back into quiet and looks toward Luciano.

Nelson drums his fingers on the back of the pew in front of him. He appears to be waiting for…something.

Luciano lifts his chin slightly, before saying, "I have a topic in mind, yes, since you've asked." he pauses, "I would like to ask all of you present: what do you think of the Camarilla Traditions as they stand right now?" he pauses, "Label me what you want, but I believe that while some of them are useful, many of them are outdated, and thus should either be revisited or void." his blue eyes fixed upon the Chancellor as he speaks.

Nelson slowly shifts his gaze from Celeste to Luciano and begins staring at the lean man in the leather trenchcoat. As mention of the Traditions is made, he frowns slightly, raising a hand to adjust his glasses. Be blinks. Once.

Martel smiles widely at this, as if very pleased at the topic, but does not speak yet. Instead he inclines his head to Luciano just a small bit more respectfully than he did when first greeting him and finds a seat by himself where he cannot be lumped in with any 'group' present.

Martel sits down at pew.

Celeste glances between Malcolm and Ali a moment or two. She states plainly, "We shall bring this subject to a rest, please." Even with the 'please' it is still an order. This is Celeste's House, she is making that much very clear. The Chancellor smiles brightly toward Luciano. She nods and says, "Yes, I believe that is indeed a very excellent topic of discussion. Though before we go further I press into everyone that this is only a discussion. And advise against acting out against the Traditions." Finally she glances around the room. "What Traditions are out-dated?" Celeste asks. Moving to stand before the altar, facing the room. She says, "Which of them should be revisited?" This question isn't to only Luciano, but to the entire room.

Malcolm tenses but manages to come out on top with a smile towards Ali. "Well-spoken. I'm pretty sure I can count on you for other things, though I don't know what comes to mind." He, apparently, is in accord with Celeste as he moves on. "Luciano, do you have any specific Tradition in mind?", he asks idly, raising an eyebrow. "They are Traditions and they are broad, but they have existed for so many years for a reason, because they allow interpretation. There is a reason behind every Tradition. It is the same reason I speak to the Chancellor with utmost respect, as this is her domain and area of sanctuary. I would like to first express my gratitude for her fine accommodations." Malcolm grins at Celeste and nods, before settling into his seat again, reclining back.

Splaying one hand out, Ali cedes the floor to Luciano - for the moment non-verbal. She doesn't look disturbed, nor frightened by the topic's boldness, but maintains the level of detached arrogance that she wears so often.

"The one that seems to be the most outdated to me, in my humble opinion, is the Third." Luciano pauses, "For a reason. I'm not exactly a scholar of the Camarilla, but if I am right, this one in special was written in an age where mortals weren't as abundant and widespread as they are to this date. So, I suppose that the ones who wrote it had controlling the birth of more of our kind in order to keep a certain level of 'hunting' constant." he pauses, "That Tradition has been enforced upon my Sire for embracing me -illegally- and resulted in my banning from the Prince in question's Domain and her death." he touches his forehead lightly, as if trying to formulate a statement. "I believe that, in order for our kind to progress, it should be revisited and exchanged for something lighter - 'rebirth control', yes — killing those who had embraced someone either by affection or by mistake — no."

"The third is kinda ass.", Ali notes succinctly. Far be it from her to suddenly become long winded. "In all seriousness, who's business is it of anyone's if I feel like havin' another kid? The whole permission thing.." She waves a hand. "It ain't like domain, which makes sense - my house, my rules.. this is just a means by which one increases their allies an' decreases their detractors."

"I understand the reasoning behind it and, in theory, the rule is excellent." Martel rises as he speaks, for effect, and goes on to say, "The problem is that *all* the Traditions are intended for the best interest of all but that their enforcement is entirely at the whim of those in power. I am not questioning the Traditions, I believe in them all, but I believe it is incumbent on those who hold power in our fraternity to consider carefully how they wield that power. The Camarilla was meant to serve us all, and those in power are supposedly those who know best. Therefore those with power must exercise their responsibility to *behave* as they know best." He smiles lightly and then notes, "I realize that I will likely offend everyone on both sides of this argument, but I must speak my peace: I believe unflinchingly in *all* of the Traditions… but I do not always have faith that they are being enforced in the most correct and proper manner or with a clear sense of judgment and justice."

Celeste nods her head toward Luciano and then toward Ali. "I agree." The Keeper admits. Her blue gaze glances around the room a moment. She says, "I agree that perhaps, someday the Third Tradition should be revisited. Refined. Bettered." A slight pause. And then she asks, "But how? If we were allowed to create, and create, and create. With no one stopping us.. We would grow like parasites, until soon there would be less mortals about. - Soon, someone would accidentally embrace the wrong person. A *really* wrong person. And all of us would be in danger. From the Elders in Europe, to us youths in Los Angeles." Celeste glances toward Martel and bows her head respectfully to him. "Well spoken, Brother. I do not doubt, the traditions are there for reasons. But I do not believe our society is all that it could be." Her voice raises with passion, "It could be better. *We* could be better! And we will. When we are old enough and wise enough to know which changes should be made. There is nothing overly *wrong* with out society. No, but everything can use improvement. Everything." She pauses, forcing in a fake breath. The little Ventrue becomes particularly animate, "*Everything* can be perfected. And it our study as the next generation to perfect our society."

"The continued reason as I see it, Mr. De Mendes, is a measure by which to enforce the First and the Fourth… if viewed leniently and indirectly, perhaps the Fifth as well." Malcolm stands again and steps lightly out of his pew, standing tall and surveying the pews as a lawyer might survey the jury in a courtroom. He turns to Luciano. "Luciano, truth be told, the one that all in Los Angeles concern themselves with is the First. The Masquerade. When you have uncontrolled sirings, you have higher risk of breaking the Masquerade. It is, as Occam's Razor dictates, an increase in complexity and an increase in the potential breaches that may be made."

Malcolm stops pacing before firing Ali a stifling glare. He continues. "There are times when the circumstances are taken into consideration and leniency is granted on the Third. Few times, but when you look at it, enforcing one helps enforce half." He pauses and then continues with his logic. "The Fourth. The Accounting. Someone must correct mistakes made, and with the 'laissez-faire' system of siring, you have no one to hold accountable. The Fifth. Hospitality. If you do not know who resides in your domain, how will you be able to make certain on hospitality? Same for Miss Santiago's 'my house, my rules' view of the Second Tradition. If you do not know who is in your house, what use are the rules?" He folds his arms. "Without the Third, things would be complicated and convoluted."
"Your assumption, Luciano, rests on the fact that all immortals are reasonable. We were all once mortals." Malcolm strolls back to his seat and crosses his legs, glancing at Celeste.

"Please, you ain't gonna offend me - you got your theory, I got mine. Don't gotta agree witcha, after all.. an we ain't in my house." Ali flashes a broad, unfettered grin toward Martel. "The shitter is that there's a tonna rules that are good 'in theory'. But we don't live 'in theory'. We live here, for real, an' my right t'reproduce is mine to use or not. If we got the fourth, then the third is largely bullshit. If I embrace some cabrone an' shit hits the fan - then it's my responsibility." She gestures toward Celeste. "That's what's t'keep mistakes from happenin'. I ain't advocatin' them walkin' around with their leashes off. There's stuff that's gotta be learned, understood, before you kin live like this. It's fuckin' /hard/ t'just end up out there.. but that don't mean someone else knows more about if I kin take care'a a kid or not then me." Poor Malcolm, Ali doesn't even address him - not behind the quizzical look she gives at his speech.

Nelson leans over and whispers something to Melanie. He keeps his voice down, as to not break the flow of the conversation. Melanie nods, then gets to her feet and makes her way out. Nelson's eyes follow her, then return to the conversation, shifting from face to face.

"I agree with Ali." Luciano declares, his tone resolute.

Malcolm stares impassively at Luciano, and then… ever so slightly twitches. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Soon enough, however, he stays composed and grins slightly, before folding his hands on his lap. He eyes Nelson evenly and then looks blankly away.

"Phrased as Dona Santiago puts it, I cannot entirely disagree with her." Martel smiles and inclines his head toward Celeste at her praise, before he says to Ali, "I agree that we do not live 'in theory', we live in the real war. That said, I believe that just laws must still structure society, and the Traditions fill that role. This is why I think, as Chancellor Davis does, that it is our duty to make the existing system better, to consider and reform what needs to be considered and reformed, and to properly apply the changing realities of the world to the laws of our society. That said, I do not believe or accept that we should live *without* laws."

Ethan enters the chapel by the main doors.
Ethan has arrived.

Celeste snaps her fingers a moment and nods to Malcolm, "Yes, yes. Exactly. - People being allowed to create with free reign causes problems. Because, yes indeed not all of us are reasonable. Some of us will, embrace-" She pauses to glance almost apologetically toward Luciano, "out of affection. Which, in my opinion is wholly a mistake. One should never embrace out of.." The next word rolls over her tongue like she doesn't like the way it tastes, "Love. What if your lo.. affection, blinds you? What if you don't realize they can't handle being one of us?" She puts this to the entire room. Then glancing toward Ali she asks, "What if you embrace, and your childe cannot handle it? What if they get free and massacre a bus full of school-children?"

Celeste is at the altar, facing the room. Looking very animated. Luciano and Ali are one side of the room, Ali is leaning against a pillar. Malcolm is pacing. And Martel and Nelson are sitting in the pews. And it appears that conversation has already started.

No, no, Malcolm is sitting in his pew again. He has his hands folded neatly on his lap. What? It looks like he's trying hard not to laugh. Then he clears his voice. "Think of the school children," he states solemnly.

"My kid'd never do that.", Ali answers in wholesome simplicity. Confidence virtually pours from her; indeed, she could seem no more sure of herself if she stated the sun will, in fact, rise in the morning. "An', t'be frank, there's no guarantee that I embrace a perfect vamp, who lives five hundred years, and then loses his shit t'the beast an' massacres a flying bus full of children." Her hands splay in a shrug. "You can't write yer life on what 'might' happen. We 'might' all be here under the spell'a some crazy sorcerer. We 'might' be dreamin' this. We 'might' all really be alive an' the mortals are dead. Might just ain't somethin' you kin weigh on."

Ethan comes pacing into the chapel, his voice piping up even before he enters the crowd proper. "Why embrace at all? Why damn more to our state, save out of the selfish need to feel alive. And if it is love that motivates us, is that better than any other emotion?" A faint smile at this.

Nelson turns at his place in the pews to stare at Ali toward the end of her speech. He raises an eyebrow at something, then blinks and turns back to face forward.

Ali lifts her palms toward Nelson as he raises a brow, then falls back into silence.

Evelyn enters the chapel by the main doors.
Evelyn has arrived.

"Now that we have stated our opinions concerning the Third…" Luciano pauses, "I may have to ask: What about the Sixth? Only the eldest among thee shall—" he interrupts himself - it appears he forgot the rest of the phrase. "still. What can grant /us/ that the Elders have the best sense of judgment? Wouldn't it be wise to, instead, arrange a council in the local Domain — and judge whether one should be hunted by violating whatever the person had? What if the person in question simply… displeased one of the Elders' will? Everyone steps on everyone else's toes - but, since the 'victim' in a person is an influent one…" his shoulders roll back in a shrug. "..does that mean that what the person did is indeed grave?"

Evelyn slips into the back and into a seat. She crosses her legs and just takes a place to listen.

Martel hrrrms for a moment, still standing from his pew, considering Ali's words. Then he says firmly, "I think that it is wrong to entirely dismiss 'might'. While we might not be able to predict with certainty what 'might' happen we can often make educated guesses about what is *likely* to happen. Or what is *unlikely* to happen. Such hypotheses can be reached with careful and rational thought. There is always a margin for error, of course, but to dismiss all possible futures as 'might' when likely futures *can* be considered is not at all wise."

Nelson doesn't seem to have caught Ali's gesture before turning back around. He looks at Martel as he speaks, then looks down for a moment before looking back up. Or was that a nod? Either way, as Luciano speaks, he blinks in surprise.

"I didn't say dismiss." Ali corrects, her brows lifting as she angles her head toward Martel. "But it can't be the whole'a yer decision. We make decisions based on 'might' all the time; even if there were no third, even if it were abolished completely, we'd still say to ourselves - do I really want this kid? He might tie me down. He might suck. He might try an' kill me. He might be boring after a year.. the important part is that it remains /our/ choice. Not some other vamp who ain't got no idea what our world is like at all. You really think there's another vamp who's got enough'a handle on me t'know if a mortal is gonna be the right kid for me or not? C'mon."

Alexa enters the chapel by the main doors.
Alexa has arrived.

Ethan shakes his head slightly, bemused. "Why should your selfish desires be the rule of if you can embrace or not? It is not as if your current childer does not cause you enough grief." His voice is quite lighthearted, casual as if he were discussing the weather. "I ask again, why damn another?"

"I do not. I believe that you are the only one qualified to decide who is the proper childe for you, should you be given permission to embrace." Martel falls silent after that, for a long moment, a pause for effect. Then he says firmly, "That said, I believe that there needs to be some judgment exercised in the matter of how and when we reproduce. This is the purpose behind the Third Tradition. If this is used properly, if actions are considered in their individual light and judgment is clear and the situation considered, then it is acceptable. After all, I would not have us all reproducing as we will. The problem is in the enforcement. The permission to Embrace is used as a means of holding and keeping power once it is acquired. Purely and simply. Whether or not that is justified is a very different debate, on which my feelings are heavily mixed."

Speaking of damnation, it is at this point that Alexa Guiverra enters the Chapel. Sunglasses and billowing trenchcoat and all. Makes a person wonder if she doesn't practice her entrance in the mirror.

Nelson finally speaks. "Miss Santiago. Just because /you/ might prove to be a devoted and attentive sire, doesn't mean that all, or even /most/ other vampires would be as well." He turns around to look at her now. "Further more, as the Seneschal of Downtown has mentioned…you ask to bring forth another of the damned into your Prince's domain. If you embrace without permission, you ignore their rights to offer or deny hospitality."

Evelyn leans back into the pew, stretching like a lazy cat and becoming just as comfortable as one. She looks over at Nelson and starts to mime knitting while pushing her teeth forward so she looks like she has a huge overbite problem. She crosses her eyes and pretends to be a knitting dork for a few stitch and perls, and then she gives up the ghost and leans back again, pale face taking on the perfect expression of elitist boredom. She takes something out of her purse - a little black ball - and begins to toy with it in her fingers. She only seems interested or aroused by a show of interest when Ali starts talking. She looks over to listen while body juggling her little black ball in her hand. But then Ethan speaks, and she listens, and ends up opening her mouth and sticking her finger in the direction of her throat. She puts her elbow on top of the pew and leans her cheek into her open palm. A little flip-flop of her ball as she listens to Martel, and she nods, but still looks faintly above it all, listening to everyone pipe up on the subject.

"We do not love, Lord." Celeste tells Ethan from her place at the altar. Ali is leaning against a Pillar. Luciano somewhere near her. Everyone else are in pews. The blonde’s hands fold over her stomach. Her attention focuses on Ethan. She asks, "And why embrace? Even we die." Celeste says softly. Her gaze glances around the room. Her voice raises, "Even we do not last forever. If we never embrace, eventually we will all fade away.. And there will be no more. If I were to embrace one day, with my Prince's Permission, and the Permission of Prince Emerson. I would to do it because the person I was going to be embrace. Would carry on my legacy."

Ethan is standing between the pews and the entrance, a bit closer to Ali than the rest of the room.

"My childer cause me no difficult at'all, chico." Ali looks sideways. All attempts at casual arrogance aside, the edges of her jaw flex and show tension. At least until she spots Evelyn, at which point she bites her words back and utterly fails to turn away before it becomes obvious that she's trying not to laugh. It's a moment like that, expression shielded, before she can go on. "Senor Jacobs.", she begins, catching Alexa out of the corner of her eye and nodding before she continues on. "It's again that I point y'at the fourth. Hold'm responsible.", she shrugs. "An' the Prince remains more'n capable of tellin' me t'git my ass /and/ my new kids ass out. So I kin hardly see how it bugs anythin' out."

Nelson turns to look at Celeste. "And because of your pride, your desire for a legacy, you would commit their soul to hell?" He leans his head to one side.

No better time to make her presence known then that. "Bein' the Ice Princess of Hell ain't a legacy, gatita," Alexa calls as she makes her way down the aisle toward Ali. She waves at the tall Colombian, like Ali hasn't already noticed her.

Ali says something in Spanish.

Ethan's eyes flicker to Evelyn briefly as Ali responds, but move on easily. He is quiet for now, content to let the room carry its conversation.

Luciano simply falls silent. blue eyes scanning around the room, before they stop at Alexa, nodding at her.

Martel falls silent for the moment, considering what others say on this subject while looking to Luciano and giving him a faint nod. He continues to appear thoughtful and grave, and one hand rises slowly to his goatee. He strokes it quietly, eyes now moving aside as if considering some private thought now.

Evelyn cannot help but mirror Martel's movement and stroke her own chin as if someone has said something profound.

Celeste turns her gaze onto Nelson now. Her voice is calm as she says, "Hell, is an interesting way to put is, Lord. I am not quite certain that I believe in Hell. Not as most describe it." For a moment, there is something in her gaze. An understanding of some. As if she *knows* what hell is, or believes she does. Celeste steps toward Nelson. She says, "I would ghoul first, Lord. And it would be their choice to go the next step, or to stay alive until I faded away." Alexa gets a sweet smile.

Evelyn cuts in, looking at Celeste in disbelief. "You would give your ghoul personal choices?"

Malcolm finally recomposes himself, wiping that boyish grin off his face. He lazily dangles a hand over the back of his pew-bench. He glances up testily, the issue that he had so elegantly avoided in his previous speech popping up. He starts to open his mouth, but glances at Martel, shrugs and sits back. He looks down at his shoes. And then he glances up. Having passed his lackadaisical stage and having lost interest, he pulls out a book from his little black bag. Holding the book up with gloved hands (oddly mismatched with his light suit, and the fact that the meeting is inside), Malcolm commences reading 'The Gettysburg Legacy'… that is, until he realizes Alexa entering. And in the process of realizing Alexa, he realizes Evelyn. His eyes widen.

Ethan tilts his head, interjecting after Evelyn, "Is any ghoul capable of free will? At least, any that have been as such for more than a few months?"

Celeste turns her gaze onto Evelyn and smiles oh-so sweetly. She says, "If they were to be my childe, yes. Childer are not possessions, Ms. Fox."

Alexa calls out, "Naw, childer are just fuckin' annoyin', 'n sometimes they smell."

Ali turns, flashing a grin before she sets one hand on Alexa's forearm and moves to walk a few paces away.

Nelson slowly pushes himself to his feet. After exiting the pew, he quietly makes his way toward Celeste, in the front. "I can let you know all about the afterlife, if you wish, Chancellor Davis." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "And can you truly be sure of your ghoul's state of mind? With a blood bond? And even then, how can they know, truly /know/, what lies in wait for them?" He stops a few feet from her. "If I had known then, what I know now, I would have thrown myself from the highest roof I could find."

Ethan supresses an amused chuckle at Alexa's comment. Wouldn't do to be amused by the girl, not at all.

Evelyn flickers a look at Ethan and nods in agreement with him. She looks back at Celeste, "Ethan's point is precisely on target. Whether your ghoul has free will left after being fully formed and bonded to you is highly unlikely. While giving a ghoul a choice to become a vampire or not sounds kind or progressive and open-minded on the surface, if you look at such a statement closely it seems a totally nonsensical statement. Bullshit, to pick the best word for it." She shifts and crosses her legs a different way. "How come people haven't mentioned that a part of asking your Elder for permission to make a childer is also a matter of promising responsibility?"

"I have.", Ali shoots over her shoulder. "Walls for the third are built right inta the fourth."

Ali whispers to Alexa, "… por…"

Martel finally speaks, looking toward the other speakers in turn before saying, "I would speak upon the Sixth Tradition." Another dramatic pause here, his hand falling from his chin as he declares, "I believe this Tradition to be the cause of most of the Camarilla's most serious and dangerous problems. The source of most of its most serious internal threats and disputes. The chief danger to the Camarilla as a whole, for the simple reason that the Sixth Tradition sets the older against the younger and the younger against the older in a cycle of fear and dangerous ambition and ruthless desire to hold onto position and power. It should be considered carefully in that light by all, and many could learn by the examples of clans in which the thoughts and opinions of the younger are shared and heard."

Alexa holds up her hands at whatever Ali said and then pushes out her lower lip, pouting like a small child. Which is funny since she looks older then her taller companion.

Alexa whispers to Ali, "… I… see… was…"

Luciano slowly crosses his arms, giving Martel a quick stare. "I said that, kinda, didn't I?"

Evelyn gives Martel a hard, and rather surprised, look. She listens, and then glances at Luciano before looking to Ethan.

Martel nods to Luciano. "Yes, I was agreeing with you," he comments simply, as if he thought that was already clear.

Nelson looks past Celeste and starts.

Ethan raises an eyebrow towards Martel, "Every government known to man has reserved the right of execution for itself. If one is to translate the commandment literally, it is 'Do not murder.' Why should our society be different?"

Celeste, once more, does not raise to Alexa's bait. A soft almost amused smile is given to the brujah. But that is a all. Turning back to Evelyn she says, "I'll remind you Ms. Fox that this is an Open Minded Discussion. And yes, indeed. Had you gotten here earlier you would know that we had indeed spoken on the matter of getting premission." Turning back to Nelson she smiles gratefully to him. Her voice is soft as she says, "I would look forward to that some other night, Lord. And I would not change what I am, if I knew what was ahead for me." She glances toward Martel and nods toward him.

"Mr. Jacobs, you would not do it now because you know you'd likely survive the fall, albeit losing a few teeth or ten?" Malcolm inquires with a grin. "But more seriously…" Yes, Malcolm lets out a sigh of relief and breathes, as Martel speaks again… on the Sixth Tradition. "Well, then. The Sixth Tradition. The taboo subject." He takes a deep breath and speaks, looking at Luciano. "Allow me to address you, De Mendes." Another pause.
"Luciano, if you want to be really cynical about it, -think-. Who else but the Elders can state the threat of Destruction and mean it? Or another cynical note, Elders have lived that long, don't you think they would know more?" He pauses. "Let's go with Miss Santiago's policy of 'living in the real world'. I remember the last time someone was 'disappeared'. That someone was an anarch and endangered the Masquerade. Meetings were conducted. Advice was asked for. Seneschals and officers were consulted. Ultimately, it happened as it did because it was the right way." Malcolm leans back into his pew some more and then puts away his book. Is he actually interested again?

Evelyn nods along to Ethan's statement, turning to look at Martel again.

Luciano raises his eyebrows at Malcolm, "And what makes you /sure/ that the Elders are the only ones with common sense?"

Ethan smiles towards Luciano, "The neonates with common sense eventually will be."

Alexa turns from Ali to fix her dark eyes on Malcolm. If there is anyone that Alexa likes to bother more then Celeste its Malcolm. Its a room full of candy and Alexa is a starving child. "What 'bout the time ya disappeared, Malcolm? That was pretty cool too. We should try it again sometime."

A powerful shudder runs through Nelson's body. He bares his fangs, most definitely not in a smile, staring at somethin behind Celeste. He balls his hands into fists, then leans over to whisper something to Celeste.

Evelyn stands to her feet, looking sharply at Nelson.

Nelson whispers to Celeste, "I would very much appreciate it, Chancellor, if you would cover those steps in the future."

Martel says simply to Ethan, "I did not say that the government should not reserve such powers to itself, I was speaking of the composition of that government and how the proper composition of that government should be considered. It is sometimes important to understand that wisdom only comes with age to a point, and after a certain point comes senility."

"To each and every his own. As Ethan says." Malcolm crosses and then uncrosses his legs before even sparing Alexa a look. "When?" He raises an eyebrow, asking innocently.

Celeste pauses her conversation to turn her gaze toward Nelson. Listening to him. She nods, and unbottons the jacket she wears. Slowly shrugging out it and turning toward it. She sets the jacket down upon the steps. Covering them from view. She turns once more to whisper toward Nelson.

Ali glances to the side and laughs softly at Alexa's words. "She's gotta point, chico." The Colombian turns, addressing Malcolm. "There's more'n enough people around t'handle bullshit. It ain't like the Princes go out an' hunt people down. They send other people out t'do it. Then they swing the blade."

Ethan waves a hand towards Martel, dismissing his claims quickly. "Prince Marshall is younger than many Seneschals. Elder has not been interpreted to be literally age in, well, an age. It means leader, now. And, given our society, leadership extends over short ranges. So we can choose those whom we grant this power."

Evelyn murmurs, "When do vampires become senile? Why is that a concern?"

Celeste whispers to Nelson, "Had I known Lord, you wanted them covered. They would have been covered. Please accept my sincerest apology for failing in my duty as hostess."

Nelson visibly relaxes as Celeste returns. He bows his head to her before speaking softly. His hands slllloooowwwly unclench.

Celeste finishes her whispering, and slowly moves to kneel on one knee on the floor for a moment. Her head bowed in Nelson. This is very much an abashing and apologetic position.

Martel gives a nod to Ethan, and then says, "Such is the case here, such is not the case everywhere. Nor is it even the case everywhere *here*. Moreover, if I have properly caught up on the history of the city, there have been times when those of other domains have been unable to agree whether Prince Marshall was Prince Marshall or not. I would say that such continuing difficulties would suggest that it is not as cut and dried as you and I would like it to be."

Ali stares at Celeste. Cause. That's something to stare at.

Ethan's eyes flash over towards Celeste briefly, a hint of concern.

Evelyn absently reaches out to whip her hand into Ethan's stomach. It's a "stop that" sort of swat.

Nelson whispers to Celeste, "I appreciate your quick response and devotion to duty. Consider the matter closed."

Ethan continues on towards Martel, "No. We are, quite literally, free to leave the city. Not even the Blood Hunt will extend beyond its borders. Our politics are, if…" and then Evelyn's hand comes out..

Ethan's hand reaches down to grab at Evelyn's wrist, reflexive as it moves towards him. His eyes, however, are still on Martel, so he misses. But his line of conversation is thoroughly disrupted.

"Because," Luciano turns to Evelyn, calmly. "when they get way too behind of things, they start to get afraid of changing, evolving. And our race should mimic mankind in this aspect - evolution." he promptly turns to look at Celeste once the statement has been finished.

Evelyn's hand returns to herself as quickly as it reached out to swat Ethan for something. She crosses her pale arms over her chest and turns to thread her way nearer to Nelson, allowing Ethan to advance on Martel.

Malcolm moves towards Martel's pew first and whispers something in the man's ear. Whispering and intrigue! Great fun for the whole family. He glances up to note Nelson and Celeste, waving at the two (regardless of whether or not they notice). And… yes, the trendily dressed dude decides to take this convenient time to depart out the back doors.

Alexa tilts her head and watches Celeste. Then she lets out a piercing wolf-whistle in the Keeper's direction.

"MacJames, still ain't learned that whisperin' rule?", Ali calls out, laughing.

Malcolm whispers to Martel, "… talk… matters… I hope,… Turenne. G'day… you."

Alexa nudges Ali with her elbow. "Malcolm is too fuckin' stupid ta learn anythin'. Maybe we should teach 'im wit' a big stick."

Evelyn notes to Luciano, "Failure to evolve, the very freezing of time and aging and change is the point of the embrace. I'm hesitant to ask Elders to "evolve" when the whole point of the "curse" is that is no longer possible."

Martel's attention is also drawn toward Celeste and he is watching her closely while Ethan speaks, so closely that he does not reply at first. "What if one does not merely wish things to be better for themselves? What if one wishes things to be better for as many others as possible? What if one would see unity rather than divisiveness? Solidarity, rather than each going his own way when he disagrees with the state of things? If one truly is concerned for more than one's self, what good does leaving do except to acknowledge that such goals cannot be achieved. If such goals are hopless, then…" He gestures simply and somewhat fatalistically. As Malcolm whispers in his ear he breaks off and looks toward the other Ventrue and then asks, "Could you kindly tell me why you champion the Traditions and yet cannot respect the Keeper's rules for this discussion in her own Elysium?" in a quiet and even tone.

Ethan steps back, letting Martel and Malcolm speak, Evelyn and Luciano exchange views. He is for the moment quite quiet.

Luciano smiles, ever so softly at Evelyn. "Believe me, we change." he pauses, "Whether we are forced to or not." he pauses, then glances at her, "You see it as a curse," another pause. "while all I see in my current state is an extension of my existance. I remain the same, with or without the Beast. And believe me - I'd rather change than stay behind and eventually succumb."

Celeste nods to Nelson's whisper and raises from her spot on the ground. She looks, for a brief moment a little ashen and ashamed. But she smiles against easily enough. Ignoring Alexa's wolf whistle. Unfortunately she was utterly focussed on whatever she and Nelson were doing and hasn't seem to have noticed anything else. Celeste's blue gaze look around the room quietly.

Nelson, however, did notice Alexa's whistle. He turns his head and stares at her. Then, seeing that the rest of the conversation has moved on, he leans over to say quietly, "Feel free to continue with your duties. I am quite alright over here."

Alexa blows Nelson a kiss when he looks over at her and winks. Sure he wasn't exactly who she was trying to harass. But harassment is harassment.

Evelyn shrugs her shoulders to Luciano. "I use the word "curse" because it's common. It doesn't reflect in depth my own personal views. However, I think the changing is debatable. I have listened to many Elders discuss their "stagnation" directly or indirectly."

Malcolm looks apologetically to, not Martel, but Ethan. "But we were discussing the matter of circumstances, no, Sir Turenne? I thought I would not interrupt anyone else with such trivial matters." He pauses. "Good bye and if I were you, I'd watch my mouth, Miss Guiverra. We are in polite company. Then again, circumstances, circumstances. Perhaps you have a 'get out of etiquette free' card?" He nods agreeably. "Must be so. As I was saying to Sir Turenne here, g'evening and let's talk at a later time, have brunch and a cup o' tea, play a few rounds o' golf, talk about philosophy, leadership and Traditions and whatnot. That right, boyo?" He grins and looks apologetically at Martel. "Do excuse me for interrupting you. Go on." And then he makes for the door as he had intended to do so.

Martel nods briefly to Malcolm, "Apology accepted then."

From afar, Malcolm would leave whether or not you berate me. But what Alexa doesn't realize is that I've already tested for frenzy this scene. Can't hurt her to try again. And again. And again. :P

Nelson raises an eyebrow at Alexa's gesture. He then raises a finger to his mouth, and bite down lightly, drawing just a little blood. He writes something on his other hand, then licks the finger closed and winks back at Alexa.

"Mister McJames. Would you tell Angelo that I may need him, on your way out?" Celeste calls out toward him. Her gaze turns toward Alexa. She states, "I will tolerate your attitude toward me. Berate me, insult me. Harass me all you like. But you will *not* harass my guests. If you do not start behaving yourself. I will have you removed from my Elysia for the evening." Oh, she means every word of it. She asks, "So, do I need to send for Mister Gaudino?"

Ethan remains quiet, subdued.

"Fuck, he's a waste of space..", Ali remarks with the roll of her eyes. It's not so much a whisper but a mutter to herself - not hidden, but not thrown out their either. "I oughta challenge him to a medieval duel." And that.. is a joke, so Ali laughs. A moment later, still shaking her amusement off, she rakes her hand through her hair and tries to refocus in time to address Celeste. "Senora.." Her hands lift, but she still looks like she might laugh again. "There's a little bitta history here an' MacJames ain't really lettin' it die. We'll even up, it's all good. Lex is good, si chica?" A glance toward the Mexican - obviously assuming, expecting compliance.

Celeste glances toward Ali, "I am not talking about her actions to Malcolm MacJames." She gestures toward Nelson.

"Oh.. that?", Ali looks toward Nelson. "Shit, they're just havin' fun. Senor Jacobs, y'insulted?", she asks.

Alexa raises an eyebrow. "Oh, Nelson? Naw, naw, me'n Nelson are in love. That's all." She waves a hand neglently at Celeste. "Don't worry, yer gonna be invited ta the wedding." And she manages to get through all of that with a reasonably straight face.

"Oh Angelooo…" Malcolm whistles shrilly, before turning back to the rest of the participants. The gallant Ventrue tries to make the most of a bad situation. He grins disarmingly and waves. "Have ye all a good evening. And I thank you again for an excellent… I mean, excellently hosted forum, Chancellor." Was that Angelo? Malcolm doesn't wait to wonder whether or not the stocky Italian fellow is waiting outside with his shotgun. He's long gone by the time the Sheriff of Torrance heads (or does not) head in.

Malcolm passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Malcolm has left.

Evelyn glances between Alexa and Ali for a moment, and then looks up to Celeste and Nelson, lips turning into a sort of smirk and shake of her head.

Nelson starts walking toward them. "In that case, are you ready for the exchange of the sacred sacrament?" Nelson rolls up his sleeve. "I'm sure you /might/ find something to do with mine." To Celeste. "Do you happen to have a chalice of some sort?"

Nelson adds, belatedely, "Actually, two. One for both of us, of course."

Alexa shoves the sleeve of her trenchcoat up. Lets play chicken! "Ya drink first a course though, love. Wouldn't want ya ta go thirsty." A grin tugs at just the right corner of her lips.

Angelo enters the chapel by the main doors.
Angelo has arrived.

Ethan raises an eyebrow at this, apparently quite shocked.

Angelo wanders in, shotgun swinging at his side. He almost looks— not completely pissed off. He stands in the doorway, and grunts in Celestes general direction.

Ali freezes; she doesn't do nothing, she freezes. Which is different.

Celeste purses her lips and raises her eyebrows toward Nelson a moment. She says, "I probably have something.." She frowns a bit considering. She says, "Usually I would not allow such a thing.. But since you are in love… I would be honored if you would get married in my chapel." She moves toward the doors. Stopping to place a shoulder the big Latino's shoulder. She leans in to whisper to him.

Celeste whispers to Angelo, "If I speak in French. The Mexicana. - You know what to do."

Martel turns his attention to Alexa and Nelson for the moment, as Ethan has fallen silent, and consideres both carefully and appraisingly as he ponders events as they unfold. After a few moments he says simply, "I would be willing to stand witness."

"Drink?" Nelson seems shocked. "Drink?" He shakes his head. "You don't seem to understand. You take it with you, as to always carry a piece of the other. I wouldn't pollute my affections for you with the false illusions."

Celeste then opens the door and calls to a ghoul attendee outside. "Could you get us some wine glasses? I think I have some in my car."

Angelo gives a nod and a grunt, leaning his neck to the side a bit until it cracks. His grip then tightens on his shotgun.

"Sorry, no can do chico, she's already married. Everyone got progressive, didn't ya notice.." Ali interjects, her voice faintly tense as she steps forward and lifts one hand, waggling the one with the thumb ring on it.

Ethan coughs at this, eyes flashing in surprise.

"Those fuckin' easterners.", Ali muses, smirking.

Alexa waggles her arm at Nelson. "Aww come on. I was raised catholic and we're totally inta drinkin' blood." The grin begins to tug at the other corner of her lips and she's about to say something else until Ali interupts. She glances over her shoulder at the taller woman and something half-annoyed, half-enraged crosses her face.

The ghoul scurries away…

Nelson doesn't look at Ali. "If she's progressive, I'm sure she wouldn't mind sharing herself?" His eyes are fastened on Alexa. "It is so little a thing. Just a chalice of blood." He pauses then adds, "If you wish, I suppose you could drink it. I'm more traditional, I'm afraid."

Luciano glances at Nelson, looking at Ali with an expectant look - as if he wanted an order to be in queue - as he slips a hand into his trenchcoat.

Ethan's eyes flash to Luciano, who he is rather near, and his voice hisses lowly to the neonate, "Hands out, boy. Or you'll solve a problem nice and quick." A nod of his head towards the huge Latino.

"Maybe she wouldn't, chico. But I would." The Colombian flashes a grin and sidesteps between Nelson and Alexa. "Call me old fashioned.", she smirks, then glances back toward Ethan and Luciano, murmuring something in spanish as she pumps her hands.

Ali says something in a language you don't understand.

Alexa runs her tongue along her teeth, narrowing her eyes at Ali. Then rather abruptly she turns and makes her way back down the aisle toward the exit to the chapel. The steel toes of her boots ring against the floor.

Celeste hops away from the exit, scurrying to the other side of the large latino with the Big Gun. She smiles beautifully toward Alexa.

Luciano simply slides his hand out of his trenchcoat, then gives Ethan a glare - a really menancing one.

Nelson frowns. "If that's the case, I suppose I will have to take offense at her previous behavior. Her love was false, it seems." He shrugs. "Chancellor, I'm afraid there will be no ceremony tonight."

Evelyn continues to stand aside, pale arms crossed over the fabric of her black dress. She's watching Nelson, Alexa and Ali with a slight smile. Certainly is a show, that's for sure.

Angelo raises his gun up to his chest as Alexa stomps toward him, looking like he's getting ready to shoot if need be, but alltogether, in control. He lets out a low, nearly inaudable grunt.

"You go right ahead an' do that.", Ali grins tightly. She doesn't glance back as Alexa storms out - the sound is easy enough to put into meaning.

You paged Angelo with 'Have they spoken off-screen enough times for her to know that he'd understand what she'd say if she spoke in french?'

Ethan's eyes flash away from Luciano as soon as his hands are visible. Unworried by the threat of violence in the man's stare, and simply watching the room.

Celeste glance stoward Angelo as he lifts his shotgun toward Alexa. She frowns and watches for the moment. Very carefully watching Alexa.

Nelson bares his fangs, this time it is a smile. "By your leave, Miss Santiago. I aim to please." He nods his head curtly, then looks around. "Where were we?"

Martel hrrrms quietly to himself now at the confrontation threatened and apparently potential, glacing from shotgun to Angelo to Alexa, then saying simply to Celeste, "If she is leaving of her own accord, it might simply be best to allow her to do so rather than force confrontation now?"

Alexa comes to a stop as she notices Angelo. "Chico. Put the fuckin' toy away, yer insultin' me." She rolls her eyes and then keeps going toward the door. "Fuckin' punch through people's skulls…fuckin' all they kin do is play wit' pellet guns…worthless fuckin' people these days.." she mutters to herself.

Angelo just blinks at Alexa, shaking his head and grunting. He seems to ignore Martel.

Ethan bows his head to Nelson, "I think we are on the appointment of Princes, and Martel's dream of conformity."

"I deny no one the right to protect themselves, Brother." Celeste replies softly. Visibly relaxing as Alexa heads for the doors. She glances toward Angelo and smiles faintly. Turning back to Martel she replies, "I trust Mr. Gaudino not to break Elysia. He will not attack unless she does." The Chancellor-Keeper says this with such assurity.

Ali spreads her hands, inclining her head faintly as she takes a few steps backward. It's a retreat from the threat of concfrontation, but one that doesn't turn her back to the situation. Instead, once the angle allows, she watches Alexa out of the corner of her eye. "I'm fairly certain y'woulda had me leave my gun at the door, Davis.", she notes.

"Not conformity," Martel corrects as he turns to Ethan with an attempt at putting a smile back on his face, "but unity. A polity of ideas and mindsets in which the powers that be are able to take the best that all have to offer and apply it to the proper guidance of the Camarilla, rather than the feral struggle for power that so often erupts in its place."

Alexa stops again as Angelo doesn't heed her. Then she turns around to look at everyone left in the Chapel. Her eyes are black, opaque under the light.

Celeste turns her gaze back onto Ali. She asks, "Did you ask me if you could bring your gun in?" It's polite, neither angry nor.. anything. She gestures toward the rules, "I have allowed weapons inside of this Elysia for some time. So long as they are used in the protection of this Elysia."

Ethan tilts his head, "Because there has ever been a society, of any group of people, not in the end motivated by selfishness? Democracy, fuedalism, communism? Whatever thoughts you apply to it, they all fall to the base, selfish motive."

"This is the first time I woulda been allowed in yer Elysia.", Ali replies.

Nelson glances over at the doors. Spotting Alexa looking back, he glances down at his hand (the one he wrote on in blood), and grins softly. Then, he turns back to the conversation.

Evelyn glances over at Nelson, smiling knowingly at something. She shakes her head in amusement, and then glances at Alexa and Angelo, still watching.

Angelo looks to Alexa as she stops, still no expression on his face. He's like one of those gaurds that aren't allowed to move no matter what, only no funny hat, and he grunts more.

Martel says simply, "Not all leaders are motivated by selfishness, nor are all advisors. The trick is in finding those who truly are worthy of their positions and believe in something more than mere power." The Ventrue takes a moment to shake his head. "Difficult? Yes. Impossible? No. I have met such in the past and will meet such again."

"You know for future reference then, Ms. Santiago." Celeste replies. Then turns back to Angelo and Alexa. She sighs. She tells Alexa, "You are welcome here Ms. Guiverra, so long as you do not insult my guests. And do not attack anyone. Just as everyone else is. Either do that, or leave. Or I'll have him remove you for violating my rules." You had better believe 'remove' means he'll shoot her down.

Ethan shakes his head, "No, some are motivated by fanaticism. The best are both selfish, and enlightened. Capable of seeing that the good of society is their own good, in the long run. A stable society is not simply mere power, but it is surely the best to rule."

Evelyn simply stands by, watching and listening.

Ali angles her head toward Celeste, distracted. The majority of her attention is obviously on Angelo.

Alexa raises one eyebrow. "Celeste, explain ta me exactly what I did that was insultin'? Hm? Course I know bein' brown'n not rich 'round 'ere is a sin. But I don't think my presence is inherently insultin'. A course, ya do 'ave a huge pointy stick up yer ass so yer sense of humor ain't necessarily the best."

Martel hrrrrrms as he considers that now, and then he says simply, "My Lord de Shaunde, in that argument I must agree with you. There must be a balance of interests. Not merely in leaders, but also in those the leaders would have follow them. As I said, more unity. More polity. I am no democrat or anarchist, but I would see us all hang together so we do not all hang separately, to steal another's turn of phrase."

Ethan waves a hand, "So the rules must be harsh. They must give power to those with the insight and strength to lead. And we must follow those we believe in. Unity is nothing to do with it, monsieur. We shall not enforce a global rule of order, but let those who can lead build it."

Celeste smiles patiently toward Alexa. She says, "Ms. Gaudino is not white. My Prince is not American. Do you really think this is about racism?" The Keeper shakes her head a moment. She says, "No, Ms. Guiverra. This has nothing to do with your skin color. From the moment you stepped through my doors, you harassed me and my guests. Unwanted affection is harassment. If, for one brief moment, you could get over it. And realize that tonight I have been nothing but patient until you crossed a line. I have been calm. I let you into my Elysia, when I do not particularly like you." Her voice is cold, "I welcomed you in. And you act like you cannot even respect domain enough to be nice to my guests, since you obviously cannot respect me in as your Leader said, my house."

Nelson is busy watching Ethan and Martel. He seems to be quite interested in the two, going back and forth.

Evelyn remains silent, and actually decides the place she wants to stand is by Ethan's side, flanking him in a way. He is her seneschal, after all.

Martel inclines his head. "This is true, but those of us who are divided and conflicted can seek to come together and find unity. This cannot be forced or enforced, but it can be done if all are willing to try."

Luciano appears to be more focused on Celeste and Alexa's discussion, even moving from the position he once was to go towards Ali.

Ethan smiles towards Martel, "Certainly. But that is a far cry from questioning the sixth tradition."

"Aight, relax." That's that - or it would be if Ali's tone could make it so. She looks between Celeste and Alexa, the sucks a breath into her lungs and shakes her head. "Her house, her rules. We don't like'm, so we don't come here. Easy as pie. She don't like mine, she don't come t'my house. Works for alla us. Now. C'mon back here an' rest, Lex. Or I kin meet y'at home."

"I said that the Sixth Tradition should be closely and carefully considered, as to how its enforcement causes divisions among us. I did not advocate the abandonment of any traditions." Martel does not quite look offended, but he looks very serious. He says firmly, "As I said before you arrived, I believe in all the Traditions… but I do not always believe in the manner of their enforcement."

Ethan's smile widens and he nods, "Fair enough. Then support the Lord that you believe enforces them correctly. We have, if we practice the Third, houses aplenty. That some abuse the rule of law does not diminish its strength." This last is surely not towards Martel, given he has just said as much.

Alexa raises an eyebrow at Ali. This really doesn't help whatever has set her off. The muscles in her jaw tense. Then she looks back at Celeste, a charming if somewhat forced smile crossing her face and she makes a deep bow. "Of course, Ice Princess. Never meant ta offend."

Nelson glances over to Ali and nods once. That's really the only action he takes other than standing around, at this point. He seems interested by Evelyn's location, but otherwise nothing seems to be surprising him.

"You can lower the gun, Angelo." Celeste murmurs softly. Bowing her head toward Alexa. She asks, "Can't he?" She folds her arms slightly over her chest. And admits, "And neither did I, Ms. Guiverra."

Martel nods firmly. "It is my intention to do as much, yes. That said, I still have a strong belief in more unity between those leaders who are able to come to consensus on proper and fair enforcement of the law of our society, and thus more unity within our society."

Angelo grunts, still holding the shotgun at his side.

Evelyn looks to Nelson and then mimics shooting a needle into her arm. She crosses her eyes again, and again mimics unloading a needle into her arm. She then inclines her head towards the door.

Ethan shrugs at this, "An admirable dream. We shall see what comes of it. I put my trust, and hopes, in another path." An eyebrow twitches as he makes that last claim, as if the thought was somehow suddenly quite absurd.

"Good, good.. bueno." Ali winks at Angelo before backpedaling all the way back to her column and glancing toward Alexa, perhaps to see if she'll be going or staying, then tries to figure out where the discussion has gone.

Martel watches Ethan for a long moment before inclining his head once. "I wish you good fortune on your path and will not bar you from walking it, and I hope that our paths do not put us at odds for you are a well-spoken gentleman Lord de Shaunde."

Evelyn smiles widely at Martel's words for some reason.

Alexa turns around and makes her way toward the door again. This time without any muttering.

Evelyn checks her watch, and then gives a respectful nod towards Celeste. She then looks to Nelson as she takes a step backward, clearly on the brink of slipping out.

Ethan finishes his discussion with Martel just as Ali comes back, his head turning to watch Alexa leave.

Celeste sighs faintly, almost in disappointment as Alexa heads for the doors. She calls, "Travel safe." The same is given to Evelyn.

"Thank you, Keeper," Evelyn replies, still very respectful. She seems sincere as she says her goodbyes from the blonde and her chapel.

Evelyn passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Evelyn has left.

Nelson has, by this point, moved to a pew near the conversation, but just a little behind it (in terms of the chapel itself) so that he can sit and watch. He shifts a little to get comfortable, then leans forward to rest his arms on the pew in front.

Alexa passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Alexa has left.

Celeste walks back to Angelo and leans in to whisper to him softly.

Celeste whispers to Angelo, "Thank you."

Celeste then moves back toward the now covered alter. She fixes her white dress shirt a little. Smoothing it out. She walks with a straight spine. The ventrue clasps her hands together behind her back and turns to watcht the room. Waiting politely for when she can enter into conversation again.

Ali lofts a brow in Celeste's direction as she converses with the bulky Latino, then folds her arms and flits a glance toward Luciano.

Luciano glances back at Ali, "That chalice thing… what was up with that?" he asks, in a curious tone.

Martel turns toward Celeste again with a slow smile and says with some warmth, "I thank you, Lady Keeper, for sharing your own opinions on many of these matters with us. I found them interesting and of merit." He bows respectfully as he finishes speaking.

Angelo gives a nod to Celeste, along with a grunt, then turns to once again step outside, probably just to return to his post outside the doors… or maybe not.

Ethan's hands clasp behind his back, "Now wasn't that all quite invigorating."

"Oh, you know." Ali replies, glancing back at Angelo.

Angelo passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Angelo has left.

It is at this point that a ghoul comes into the room, eyes affixed on the ground. Holding at least four wine glasses on each hand. Without looking at anyone it walks toward Celeste, and holds them out to her. The little blonde just stares for a moment before a smile cracks over her lips, and she starts to laugh. - Really laugh.

"Like snorting coke off the snout of a pitbull.", Ali answers toward Ethan. Her lips spread at Celeste's laughter and she dips her head, unable to do much about the grin that pulls, then gives way to soft, muted laughter.

Ethan blinks in confusion at Ali's turn of phrase, head tilting as he mouths the words to himself. It takes him some time to come up with a response, but it's the perfect straight-man when he does, "The snout would be moist, and absorb the cocaine, no?"

Martel glances to the wineglasses for a moment and smiles openly, shaking his head, and then notes, "Now that is mostly definitely humorous, I must say." The tall, lean allows his smile to widen and laughs briefly. "A shame we have no couple to marry."

"Try it some day." Ali lifts her chin toward Ethan. "Then y'lemme know if it works for ya. An' as for it all, you an Ethan could always link up. Yer a cute modern couple an' all."

"Give it time. She might change her mind," Nelson supplies from his pew. "Or, you never know. I might get lucky and find love again." He runs his tongue over his fangs and shrugs. "Stranger things have happened."

Celeste carefully takes the wine glasses from the ghoul and sets them onto a pew. She nods to them, and they scurry back at the door. Once the ghoul is gone she turns to Nelson. "You mentioned false illusions. Forgive me, if my youth makes my words stupid.. But why does a blood bond have to be false love?"

Ethan glances briefly, and dubiously, towards Nelson. The two certainly come close to matching, with the not-quite casual, not-quite formal. Then, gratefully, Celeste's question comes up, and the dubiosly heterosexual ancilla can move on with their lives. "It does not sustain past the embrace."

Luciano's lips curl into grin at what the ghoul did, before he falls silent and regards Celeste with a hint of curiosity.

"I must say that I would not feel comfortable violating my clan's customs by bonding outside the clan at all," Martel notes with a certain degree of solmen dignity. "Nor do I believe that I know the only other member of my clan present well enough to propose." His head turns toward Celeste and Nelson again, watching them both, interested in Celeste's question and what answer Nelson might give.

Ali shifts her gaze back toward Nelson. "Si, please .. tell us how y'feel on bonds.", she states.

Nelson seemed about to answer when Ethan speaks. "That's it. Exactly." He seems surprised, actually. "A blood bound ghoul will have the bond shattered in the embrace. Therefore, it is obviously not natural." Raising a hand to forestall any comments, he adds, "This is not to say that vampires can or cannot love, or that you cannot feel affections without a blood bond. It is simply to say that what is created is /not/ a true emotion, in that it is not of the individual."

Celeste considers this quietly for a moment or two. Her gaze lowers a moment, fixing on the ground. She picks up a wine glass and twirls it in her fingers. Considering his words quietly. There is almost a grave consideration on her expression.

Ethan pips up again, since Celeste seems liable not to. His voice is soft, kind. "We are capable of love, but the bond is not it. I promise you, there are truer emotions."

"I would say that we are capable of much… but dare little." Martel doesn't explain what he means by that and then begins to move for the door. "If you will all excuse me, I believe I should return to my lands. I thank you all for the diverting debate. It was most stimulating."

Nelson glances at Ethan, then drops the subject, content to lean against a pew. "Good evening, Sir." Nelson nods to the departing Martel. "If you ever wish to speak more on the subject, feel free to contact me."

"I believe I'll be followin' y'out. Gracias an' all." Ali shoves off the wall and angles her head toward Celeste, pausing, before she moves to depart.

Luciano tilts his head toward Celeste and silently moves after Ali. "A good evening to you." he says, as he makes his way towards the exit.

Ethan offers a nod to Martel and Ali as they leave, conveniently both in the same direction.

Celeste glances up toward Ethan and watches him quietly a moment. The Chancellor nods toward Martin and says, "Travel Safe." A glance toward Ali, she nods to all three that are leaving. A respectful nod. She murmurs, "All of you."

Nelson finally just gives a nod to all of them. Time to rush the exit, it seems.

Martel turns a smile first on Celeste and then on the others who are leaving, before moving to the door and holding it for Ali.

Bum rush!!! No, really. Ali nods back to Celeste and then strides out, her head angled toward Martel in a wordless, oddly casual thank you.

Martel nods in reply and, once Ali is out, moves out the door after her. An old fashioned gentleman, it would seem.

Somewhere in there Ali replied back to Luciano, too. Obviously you all just missed it.

Ali passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Ali has left.

Martel passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Martel has left.

Luciano passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Luciano has left.

Ethan turns back to Celeste, concern writ on his face. "I would thank you for admitting us to your Elysium, even if our attire is not up to standards."

Celeste smiles toward Ethan and bows toward him. She smooths her hands down her dress shirt. Smiling the Keeper says, "Sometimes, the rules should be made flexible to admit to new ideas."

Celeste adds, "That is what this is about. This Forum."

Nelson smiles at that. "I'll try to find a suit that I haven't ruined for next time, all the same." He glances around. "You Keep a beautiful Elysium, Chancellor. It will be an honor to visit again in the future." All the same, his eyes go up toward the front, toward…something.

Ethan chuckles lightly. "I am sure I can have something brought for me. But then, I would not want it to seem that my position has changed me."

Celeste smiles softly and replies, "It will be covered, Lord. Do not worry about that. I pride myself on knowing what my guests need. I am sorry I did not know.." Once more she bows her head apologetically toward Nelson. Only to lift it and glance toward Ethan. She asks, "Why?"

Ethan blinks, a bit surprised. "One must remain accessible." A bow at this, "I should be going. We can speak on love, and damnation, later." A faint smile at this and he moves towards the door.

Celeste curtseys toward Ethan. Then stand sagain. Smiling she says, "Travel Safe, Lord Seneschal."

"I believe that is my signal, then, Chancellor." He bows his head politely. "Again, thank you for your hospitality." He nods to Ethan as well. "And, of course, always a pleasure. I hope to see you again next time."

Ethan smiles towards Nelson, although the comment is surely addressed as well to the chancelor, "It is good to hear what others are saying."

Ethan passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Ethan has left.

Celeste curtseys to them both. And says, "Good evening, travel safe."

Nelson passes through the doors and back into the grounds.
Nelson has left.

You pass through the doors and back into the grounds.

Wayfarers Chapel Grounds - Palos Verdes - Torrance

Surrounded by growths of looming redwood trees and rising hills that look out across the Pacific Ocean, these grounds form a strange kind of Eden for the undead. The Wayfarers Chapel, right by the entrance, is a wonder of glass and natural stone, its interior exposed to form an easy balance with the surrounding natural glory. The grounds and chapel each appear to form a part of the whole, rather than distinct entities. Its architecture blends Palos Verdes stone with glass and redwood; innovative, though perhaps disquieting to those of more traditional tastes.
With daylight long since become a memory, a few hundred lights burn like fireflies amidst the gardens and rural pathways, inviting further exploration.

Angelo is standing outside the chapel, his shotgun nowhere to be seen. Instead, a Runesword hangs from his hand, but he's not looking to be using it on anyone. He just grunts as each person walks out.

Ethan comes out of the Chapel, hands behind his back as he heads to the street. He moves at a quick pace, that of one with buisiness.

Nelson follows close behind Ethan, likewise moving quickly. Though, to be honest, he does pause at the sight of Angelo. Blink. "One doesn't see that every day…" He shakes his head, then moves again.

Celeste raises an eyebrow toward Angelo. Shaking her head she says, "Not exactly blending in, Angelo." She doesn't say anything else. Simply drapes her coat over her shoulde and heads for a nice black car out in the parking lot.

Nelson passes along the arbored walkway, and back into the streets of Torrance.
Nelson has left.

Luciano passes along the arbored walkway, and back into the streets of Torrance.
Luciano has left.

Ethan gets into his Grand Marquis and drives away.
Ethan has left.

Angelo just frowns slightly at Celeste and lets out a grunt, sliding the sword behind his back. He looks around and lets out in a low voice, "We done here tonight?"

Celeste pauses and turns to walk back toward Angelo. She smiles, genuinely toward him. The blonde Ventrue says, "Yes we are. Thank you for your support tonight."

Angelo gives a nod, letting out a grunt and begins to walk away. He reaches to the radio on his shoulder and says something into it and moments later, a black Hummer pulls up at the street, Angelo gets in, and it drives off.

Celeste shakes her head and laughs to herself. The blonde walks back to her car, and disappears into the night.

White Wolf © White Wolf
Original Work is licensed under a CC Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 US License.