Her days were filled from dawn to dusk, and still lacked sufficient hours. In fact Natalie could not recall the last time she’d slept in her own bed rather than caught naps on her apartment sofa. The Northbrooks owned an old property in Switzerland, so she’d known a little of the restorative process, but there was a reason these old Russian estates, abandoned since the Bolsheviks, had remained in ruins for so long. They were money pits.

Natalie poured everything in; sensible with the investment, but reckless with the amounts. Had she asked, her mother would have been in ardent support of the project, and likely relieved to see her daughter so rooted in something productive, but Natalie was still ignoring her calls – and the family money. Instead A K Holdings supplied the shortfall. She hadn’t seen Adrian since she’d brought him here and made her impulsive offer, and Belizna was now far from the ruin it had been that balmy summer night. He hadn’t been wrong to remark the manor’s suitability for a destination hotel; between the grounds and the austere gothic castle, an unusual sight in this part of the world, there was an unrivalled grandeur to its sense of history. But as she’d told him then: this wasn’t about profit.

Adrian’s office was responsive, even at the unusual hours Natalie worked to sometimes, and she was content not to deal with the man himself. She availed of his contacts as well as his money, and it had undoubtedly helped expedite the work to have both. The manor was structurally secure, much of it habitable if still largely empty. Several rooms were furnished now, and she spent more time here than the sterile apartment in central Moscow. It would likely take years to see it fully finished, but what had been completed in the relatively short time was nothing short of formidable.

Pushing Belizna to be ready to open its doors commanded much of her time, and if Natalie was not managing the ongoing project, she was networking – work she liked less, honestly, though it was easy to be charming and sow the seeds she needed. Zhenya had been a surprisingly vocal and vociferous ally there, being much loved already in the most elite circles of Moscow’s social scene, and with grudging acceptance that she could not do everything by herself, Natalie was slowly letting the woman do more to flutter rumour of the cause in the right ears. For some nights she was simply too exhausted to don the mask herself.

Amidst her busy schedule, today’s particular job had not exactly been planned for. Natalie had had no intention in informing the Channeling Consulate of her plans, let alone Brandon’s sly military arm, but Mexico’s machinations were all rapidly coming to a head. She kept abreast of the changing politics, though she remained distant from her own witness of their foundations. Jessika Thrice paid for her title in blood, as did Scion Marveet, but it was the discrete arrival of a Mexican delegate that urged her hand to interfere. She’d known little of Commander Vellas before then, and that little comprised of things she sometimes wondered if Jay was actually supposed to impart, or realised he did. Gaining access to him had not been easy, even for a Patron’s granddaughter, but Natalie was persistent, not least with sufficient motivation. If she could gain an audience with the Ascendancy himself in order to discover what had happened to Jay after his arrest, she could certainly find the man he trusted to lead his men now Jay was a Dominion among them.

Michael had given little away over the call, not least whether he had been surprised to receive it. Reaching out to him was not without risk, and she disliked the notion it was a tentative bridge which might prove dangerous to her down the line. He was a generous and eloquent speaker, though, and Natalie reasoned it suggested he would be amenable to the request she would make of him. Charm and certainty were her tools, though she would use leverage as necessary. And he agreed to the meeting at least, intrigued by the project she described, else by the woman who moved mountains to speak to him directly in the first place.

Snow coated the grounds, obscuring quite how overgrown it all still was. The steps had been cleared, and she perched on one to wait at the agreed time, a number of privately opaque holos arranged across her lap. Natalie had a desk inside, but beyond the cavernous marble foyer and hallways, she never would have heard an arrival. The sounds of workmen were distant, but aside from that there was no one else here. Unless Toma was lurking, though Natalie saw less of her these days; presumably because she was staying out of trouble.

She was dressed for the winter, a fur-lined hat over light-gold hair, and a thick coat belted snug around her waist. Alarmingly pale eyes sat in a face currently flushed by the cold, though by her neutral expression, the temperature did not seem to bother her. For once it was not Belizna that occupied her attention while she waited for Michael’s arrival, but a matter more personal. Natalie was rarely idle. Jay had not asked for her help (and it was undoubtedly very illegal) but it hadn’t been difficult to use her position as ambassador to pull the strings to deal with his family’s estate back in the US. The animals had already been cared for, but it seemed he’d ignored every other communication from the lawyers concerning the property and what was left of the farm. Ensuring the family belongings were packed up into storage had been simple enough. It was doubtful he’d ever want to go back there, but it felt wrong to leave it all to rot. If not for Jay, then for Cayli. But his father’s debts were eye-watering, and the financials were all tangled. She had no doubt Jay would never want to know, and she never planned to tell him; she was settling what needed settling, but probate was a glacial process.

[[Continued from In Absentia]]

For weeks he’d kept his life together, constructing an artifice of routine and going through the motions like each one was nothing more than a touchstone to mark the normal passing of time. The twins and Sterling. Sage and Paragon and Kallisti and the girls. Nox’s texts. But the distance crept in, inch by inch, and when he looked down on his life, he recognised nothing in it. By the time of the excruciating Vasiliev ball he was finding it difficult to relate to any of the things he knew he ought to care about, and Kristian’s words set up a haunt in his mind that ran its doubts over everything that remained.

He gave Lily to Sterling for safekeeping. Told Carmen he needed some time away from work; assured her there was no reason to worry. There was no plan, just an emptiness that he could no longer bear to pretend away for the sake of others. He smiled when he left.

His last clear memory was of the Carnival, resplendent with Halloween revelry. Shadows and ghouls, darkness beckoning, a bacchanal promise.

Raffe walked into the Veil’s Embrace. He didn’t remember coming out.

He didn’t know who found him, or how. Frost crunched the ground now, the season succumbing to the skeletal clutch of winter’s icy caress. Weeks more had passed. Life quietened and died around him; Raffe wasn’t in the city anymore, but madness chased memories, and he only knew it because he was later told. Hollows carved his cheeks to diamond peeks and made solitary monuments of each rib. Track marks and bruises decorated his arms and legs; failed attempts at capturing meaning, addictions he’d always denied himself. He had vague recollection of a honey-coated tongue, but the words whispered away on the wind; he didn’t want to be saved. And then, as though no time had passed at all, he remembered the sterile walls of Paragon.

He let himself hibernate through the parade of scientists, eyes often closed even when he wasn’t asleep. White coats that coaxed him to talk, insisted he eat. He never even noticed when the scenery changed once more.

[[continued from House Party]]

In the neon wash of lights in the RLD, no one glanced twice at the kink of a black velvet mask covering a woman’s face. Once she was far enough away from Nox’s building, she finally parted her lips to let it fall loose into the splay of her waiting hand. For a time at least, the fresh cold air soothed how hot and stuffy it had been underneath, but Muscovite winter bit hard. She considered the warmth and distraction of one of the district’s clubs – the night was still young enough, and she hadn’t exactly figured on leaving the other party alone. But the Emissary’s keys were tight in her hand, and time might well be of the essence, so she pushed her mask into the hands of a passerby with a knowing wink, then found herself transport.

Her current home was new to her: an indomitable and exclusive highrise. Moscow had a lot to choose from, and Nesrin enjoyed luxury – all the more when it was “borrowed.” Security gave her no trouble; the doorman recognised her already, and even said a hello as the click of her heels crossed the marble foyer. He tapped his chest, and she glanced down at hers, certain she’d removed the party sticker, but it was only the pink Hello Kitty badge. She gave a cute smirk, raised her brows, but offered no explanation. He could make his own.

She stopped by her condo, but only briefly on the way up. Her hip was smarting where she’d fallen backwards, and she’d explored enough of the building to have discovered somewhere better to spend the rest of night. The skyline twinkled like tiny cast jewels from the rooftop, city noise distant. This particular glass-framed corner of it was an open air oasis, but Nesrin liked the icy chill of the cold on her skin. She dumped her bottle of champagne and flipped the switch of the jacuzzi. It might have been common space, or it might have belonged to one of the other apartments; she actually didn’t know, but the wide-eyed ignorance of a ditsy house-sitter was often enough to convince of innocence. And a half-naked girl in a hot tub was usually forgiven her trespasses quickly enough.

She pulled on the robe, wriggling out of the dress and leaving it to pool forgotten on the floor. It was fucking cold, but it only flushed her cheeks with the exhilaration. She didn’t check for bruises, and the light was too soft a glow in the darkness to see much anyway; instead, wrapped in fluffy warmth, she pulled on the bikini underneath. While she waited for the water to warm, she leaned back against the edge and examined the keys. She’d only intended them for leverage, not for keeps. Stealing was a risky game, not least when you were caught, and the m’Antinomian were dangerous for what they could unravel. Not that she didn’t still plan to bargain her way out of it, but something about the way the Emissary had touched her arm still didn’t sit right, and she was curious as to what she was bargaining with.

They’d felt like keys, but this was the first time all evening she’d been able to look at them properly.

And now she wasn’t so sure.

Roza didn't care what he mother said as they came home late from the party nearly freezing to death.  She ignored the offers of tea and warmth by the fire and instead kept Esper at her side as she entered her sleeping section.  The house wasn't big, and everyone shared rooms, but they were sectioned off with hanging blankets and wooden panels for some semblance of privacy.  Esper had her own space and they had often shared space as young girls, now it was different.  Her mother understood the relationship had changed.  Long before Esper and Roza had figured it out themselves.  

Roza kicked off her shoes but that was the extent of her disrobing for the moment, her teeth were chattering and she pulled Esper down into the large comforter that covered her small bed.  "It'll be warmer together."

Roza had every intention of talking to Esper but as they lay together huddled under the blankets she was safe and warm and drifted off to sleep.  And when the sun streamed through the open windows Roza smiled having Esper by her side.  She leaned over and kissed her friend softly to wake her.  "When you are ready we need to talk about last night, and the question you asked me."

For those of you who use the Account Switcher you will notice a new character in red at the bottom of your account.  This is a shared account that we all have access too.  The point of this account is to be able to post NPC/PPC without attaching it to your PCs account like we have been.  This eases the wiki thread calls and we won't need to exclude threads as much.

At the moment any registered user can use the Shared account.  If we see abuse by spam bots or others then we will need to lock down permissions to it but I can do that fairly easy by switching all of us into another group and that we have to either qualify for or be moved into.

Feel free to use or not use it.  

When posting with the account make sure to post the PPC image (or some sort of signature) to indicate which character it is. So we all know who's who.

The account is: Legione Sumus which is latin for we are legion.

I removed some features.

If you find something missing let me know.  And I'll try to enable them again.

I just managed to upgrade the forums to correctly use Account Switcher and a latest and a more secure php version.

If you notice any error messages please post the url of the page and the error message here so I can look into fixing it.

Dorian paced in the lobby of the club house at Pestovo Country Club. He was meeting Christian for the first time since the divorce without Ana.  Christian came to the Country Club only once before and it wasn't as a guest.  He wasn't married to Ana, but he was now known to be her lover.  And Dorian actually found Christian a friend, and he wanted to both remove the stimga people saw around Christian but also show them he, Dorian, had no issues with what had happened.  It was of his design after all.  And most people still didn't know his true reason for the divorce or his life choices.

Christian arrived. "Hey man. I wasn't sure you'd join me."

Christian chuckled. "I thought about standing you up.  Not that I don't wanna hang out."

"I get it."

"I don't think you do. You've always been a part of this world."

Dorian nodded. "It's always an uncomfortable place."  He nodded toward the golf courses.  "You play right?"