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The Rodriguez mansion is quiet, except in the ways it's not. Stairs creak on their own, there's the occasional sound of something being thrown across a room from one of the bedrooms upstairs, and there's muttering coming from the front parlor. That one, at least, isn't a ghost. It's a smol blonde kindred, wearing a floaty white dress with blue floral embroidery, her shoes discarded beside the fainting couch she's draped herself across, watching Youtube videos on her cell phone. She seems to be pausing and going back a bit in the video regularly, like she's not focusing and keeps missing things.
The front doorburst open, as if someone had kicked them so. Of course Anthony was not uncouth enough to actually do that, he simply forgot himself sometimes. "Ah! I see the key still works," the pale Russian said to no one in particular. "And by key, I mean brute force. Helooooo....." He stepped further into the foyer, his combat boots creaking the old wood, and dropped the dark green duffle slung over his shoulder. If the door opening hadn't alerted everyone in the neighborhood, the resounding thud of the luggage certainly would. Anthony rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his already ruffled hair. "Its like no one knew I was coming home. I mean..no one was. I should get a page to announce me." He stretched, and sauntered in more, his spindly legs carrying him into the palor. There he spotted Phaedra, and watched her for a moment. "Oh. Hello. You certainly are a new face. Do I know you?"
She startled off the couch when the door burst open and is now peeking at Anthony around the side of the couch, her big blue eyes round with panic, phone thrown off to one side. "Uh. Um. No?"
He wasn't really that tall, he just looked tall, like a not really tall scarecrow. To ameliorate this, Anthony squatted at the entrance of the Parlor, and held out his hand like one would too a cat. "Oh, oh no no no, I..did not mean to startle," he said in his best attempt of a soothing voice. Which was not soothing in the least.
"Well, you did!" If she were actually a cat, that would have been delivered as a hiss, ears pinned back against her head and claws extended, but she's a Mekhet, not a Gangrel, and so there's simply a very rapid scoot backwards while remaining prone, watching him from a larger distance now.
Anthony sighed, and rested his arms on his knees, staying in the squat. "Well don't expect me to apologise for that. I figured announcing myself would have been much better than simply walking in unnoticed." He grinned. "That usually startles people more when they realise...oh oh, where are my manners. Possibly left in my other track suit." The mekhet stood up, and held a hand to his chest. "I am Anthony Rogers, Unclaimed, and at last I heard, still a member of The Rodriguez family in good standing. I hope that still is the case." Then he looked around with a sniff. "Wait...is this the right address?"
"...yes? Yes. This is the Rodriguez house. Yes. I'm a member of the Rodriguez family, too." Slowly, she begins to pull herself together, moving from a sprawl to kneeling, and then to a stand. This brings her to a clear five-foot-smidgen. Some of that might be the poofiness of her unkempt hair.
The Mekhet nodded slowly, and started to circle the parlor, keeping his attention on her. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his burgundy, velour track suit. "Newwww blood. That's...good. It was getting 'pretty staid' in here. Now we can cut off that second word," Anthony declared quietly. He ended up by a window, and leaned against the sill, taking a moment to peer past the heavy, thick draperies to the night outside. "Alright...I suppose..we should get the pleasantries and formalities out of the way?"
"Uh. Phaedra Lamb. Mekhet, Rodriguez family, of the Circle of the Crone. Are those the formalities you were looking for?" As he moves, she does as well, keeping something of a distance between them, up until she backs herself up against a coffee table and then just sits on top of it, pretzel-style, turned toward him.
"Well, yes, that is part of it...oh bother..who am I to insist on anything more than that. I suppose everything else shall wait for some other time," Anthony said with a sigh, letting the drapes fall back into their lace, and looking at the skittish Lamb. "Did the help die?"
"What is the 'everything else' you mean?" She frowns uncertainly at him, eyes raking up and down his outfit and then his face. And then his hands. She watches his hands most uncertainly of all.
"Oh you know...or maybe you don't know. How long have you been at...all of this?" Anthony asks, flourishing a hand to gesture at nothing in particular.
"Five years? So. Yeah, I'm...actual new blood to the family, as it were." Her gaze follows that flourish like a dog might watch a butterfly fluttering across its yard. "But. But. If you haven't been in town for a while and need caught up. On the Nereids thing? I can do that pretty thoroughly. Very thoroughly."
"Oh." He considered her answer a moment, in an unfocused daze before his mind and face found unity of purpose and he smiled. "Right. The Nereids. The talk of the town it seems. Can't get any direct answers, though. People keep dancing around the topic, like dancers dancing around something unpleasant." He went for one of the old yet comfortable seats in the parlor, and settled in, crossing a leg.
"People don't like to be faced with something so big and deep and broad and scary." She swivels upon the table to continue facing him. "I'm young enough not to have learned tact. Do you want to learn more?"
"Oh oh, I understand that reference," Anthony excitedly declares. "Yes. I would like to learn more."
She begins to count the points off on her fingers:
"Background. The Nereids are sort of an infection, sort of--like old myths about if you get bitten or scratched like a werewolf, you'll turn into one? Not true of werewolves, definitely true of the Nereids. They're mermaid-like, and live in the sea, and worship an entity, a presence that is wholly of-the-depths.
"One: the Nereids wouldn't normally be upriver this far, they're devoted to the sea, but they're here causing a problem locally because there is an object they seek. It is made of dark glass or crystal--not entirely opaque, but translucent. I don't know what shape or size it comes in. Looking at the object through my ritual felt like pulling myself closer to the void-being they worship, so I kept a bit of a distance.
"Two: Clayton Powers was not a deliberate choice of victim. He encountered the Nereids in the course of his duties as Keeper, and was attacked and infected that way.
"Three: There's a Kindred in town they want. I'm pretty sure it's Rihat of Nineveh--maybe the real one, who's in town and preying on neonates in the night. I had a dream about him before he crashed into the Elysium riding a poor mortal girl. I'm pretty sure she's fish food now. But in my dream of him, he was doing an autopsy on some huge bloated sea creature, which is also tied to Nineveh--Cian found ancient paintings of the blobby things."
"Four: The banes of the Nereids include fire and sunlight still, but their drive to return to the sea is also powerful enough to be a bane. It's possible keeping them on dry land may cause them harm."
"Five: Once one is infected, there's a week before they are transformed completely. After that point, as we are with Mr. Powers, there is no cure. Also, also? Scrying on them can expose a blood sorceror to the attention of the void being itself, and that's...very bad. It tried to infect me. I heard the song of the sea myself."
Anthony mimed pulling out a notepad and a writing utensil- presumably a pen, and began acting out taking notes as Phaedra spoke. There was nothing seemingly in his hand, however he was paying close attention to her words. "Rihat. Right right," he mumbled as he 'finished' his notes. "So like...no idea if letting them get this Ninny fellow and the black glass or crystal object they would be a bad thing?"
"No idea. The Nereids haven't been seen in town for a bit of a while, though. People have been watching along the river, and haven't seen them back by Bala Cwnwyd. So Rihat's currently the most chaseable lead we have. I've been considering offering him blood for information. I know he could just take it, he has been from others? But I'm thinking maybe the offer would impress him with my boldness."
She runs a hand over her hair. "I have a theory that the black crystal thing was what he was what he was doing the autopsy for. And that's why the Nereids want it back?"
"Hmm...limited information, but, if I may be so bold to offer some advice that perhaps your sire should have filled you in on," Anthony says, making a stirring motion with a slender finger. "You...never want to give your blood up unless there is no other recourse. Sakimama asking for residents' blood is pushing it, but you certainly do not want to give it up to some possibly eldritch abomination that doesn't seem to have the sense to act reasonably any more." He shrugged, and tucked away the nonexistent notebook and pen. "I mean, take that advice for what its worth. Nothing or a lot."
Her face closes up like a fan when he says it's advice that her sire ought to have taught her, and she tenses. "If you've got a better way to get useful information from Rihat of Nineveh than that, I'd love to hear it."
"Has anyone tried...asking him?" Anthony wondered. "I mean, i haven't met the chap, but like...often the really old things can get buttered up with some decent flattery. Certainly worth the chance, better than handing over your keys to him." The Mekhet leaned forward in his seat, and his attention was all at once focused on her, like a focused spot light.
"No one has met him to ask him anything. He's supposedly listening to the cacophony--and he did respond when I did a callout of him, but not when I put out an invitation to talk about fishy things." She shrugs. "So that's been pointless."
"Ah, an unlisted number, well, something to think about at another time, I guess," he states, but it certainly feels like Anthony wasn't very much interested in the topic of Rye Hat. "Your sire...what happened to them? You locked up like a tense secure lockable thing when I mentioned that."
"She...we both ran afoul of hunters. She saved me. They got her." She shifts, putting her arms around her knees and curling into a tight tiny ball. "It's possible she'd be the better one to have right now, with everything going on. No one's said anything, but I'm sure there's someone who's thinking it, somewhere."
"Ew. Hunters." Anthony considered Phaedra a moment before looking back out the window. "Well, of course someone is thinking that - in general, older vampires are more capable than their newer counterparts. But what does that matter to you? You are who you are, and damn all the others, you're going to do what you do." His fingers rubbed on the thick drapes as he held them aside. "Miss Lamb, your sire I am certain was a great person, and the bond that exists between childe and sire is certainly a rough one to sever, for whatever reason. I have no words to offer as a cushion for what happened...because none exist. Also because every time I try to comfort someone, they start crying. Not certain what it is. I mean, I do brush my teeth every evening." Anthony shrugged. "But nevermind all that- you just have to honor your sire by keeping in mind all that she taught you." He blinked, then turned to narrow his eyes at Phaedra. "Was your sire a member of this family?"
"Just don't touch me without warning. That won't make me cry, but it will make my head bad and weird. Older men touching me without asking is a Problem." She huffs, then nods. "She was. Her name was Tally. Sorry, formalities. Her name was Atalanta Hall."
The Mekhet's eyes widened, and Anthony stood up from the seat. Then he collapsed right back into it. "Oh Tally. Tally tally tally," he whispered. His eyes finally refocused, on Phaedra. "Your sire was pretty great, Miss Lamb. Absolutely fucking great." He ran his hand through his hair again, then rubbed his face like someone trying to wake up. "Right. Black glass. Fish people. Eldritch Assholes. Focus. So based on what I've heard, in the all too short of the time I've returned, this is my proposal. We find this thing, and toss it into the sea. If it was there before, no harm in putting it there again, especially if it will keep these things away from us."
"I know she was great. She saved me twice." Her voice is tiny, and she doesn't even react to his suggestions on the fishcourse. "I'm sorry she's gone."
"Anyone track down the hunters?"
She shakes her head. "Sorry."
"Good." The brief bit of serious on his face flits away and Anthony stretched a smile in its place. "I did not think she would take a childe."
"That was the first time she saved me." Phaedra stretches out a hand, looking at her fingers. "I grew up in a cult, as a psychic they treated me as their prophet. My uncle was in charge of everything, including me. Tally was...considering making the cult a Herd for herself, shaping it. But when she found out how I was being treated, she sought permission to Embrace me, and give me my freedom. And she did."
The mention of a herd caused Anthony's face to flatten a bit. "She...hm." The Mekhet stood up again. "I told her so many times that feature of hers would end up getting her killed," he finally said with a mixture of regret and amusement. "I need a room..any available? If I have to stay at the Elysium another night, people are going to end up staked."
"Here? I don't know. I have a place out in the woods. It's small, but it's quiet and it's mine." She shakes her head. "I can't stand sleeping in the Elysia--though if you must, Bala Cwnwyd is quietest, because of what happened to Mr. Powers, these days."
"I will take that under advisement." Anthony exited the parlor to secure his duffle he had abandoned in the foyer. "I guess I'll just find and take a room for myself. So what are the kids doing for fun these days?"
"Uh, well. Uh. I read my first comic book last week. And I've been learning a bit about video games. And studying for my GED, because I never really went to school and I hate feeling stupid around people. But I don't know if that's normal kids stuff. Ask Finley, and you'd hear zhe does blood tests for fun. Ask Rena, she punches things. Or people."
Anthony delivers a sage nod. "No no, school, video games, and comic books. Sounds about right- I guess things don't change overly much in ten years." He cut himself off. "I mean, in some ways. Whatever." He starts to fish around in his luggage. "And I wouldn't worry too much about the diploma. I don't have one, and I feel like the smartest person in the world. Even though I know I am not. But hey, if its a goal, not bad to have one. "
"It's not the diploma, it's the knowledge. I want to understand what Finley's talking about when zhe goes on about properties of blood. I want to catch the references Rena makes. I want to know things. The GED just means I've got the knowing to take night classes at the community college." She smiles sheepishly, uncurling just a little bit.
"Ah. Its your license to be able to trade for more information," Anthony says knowingly. He finds what he seeks in his back and pulls it out- a cheap smartphone purchased from a grocery store. "Here- its got a month left on it," he notes before tossing it towards Phaedra. "I have the number for it on my own phone."
She moves to pick up the cell phone she'd dropped when he spooked her, holding it up. "I'm good, don't need a burner. I take care of myself pretty okay. Clara looks out for me, and I read tarot cards, to get money for things I need."
Clara being Clara Rodriguez, the current head of the family.
He cants his head, "Well of course she does. Look, I don't care how you contact anyone else, but for me, if I need to get a hold of you about business, its only going to be on that phone," Anthony tells her.
"Hm. Alright, then." She tucks the phone in a hidden pocket in her dress and stands. "Were...you and Tally close?"
It takes a moment for Anthony to answer, as he buys some time closing up the duffel. "Yeah. Sometimes," he finally answered, holding up two fingers pressed together. "On occasion, closer than kindred really ever should be. Its...difficult, you'll learn, to have the proper ...longterm relations with our kind. Part of being..well..blood sucking predators."
"I'm so sorry for your loss." Her voice is a thin thread that resonates with guilt.
That elevated his eyebrows, which matched the odd blonde and and thickness of the hair on his head. "Why? It is not your fault," Anthony assured her. "And those at fault will be taught remorse. The...education will be very involved." A pause. "I'm talking about torture. Lots of torture. But really, no matter what Tally and I had, or for how long it might have been, it is a connection that paled in comparison to yours. It is a difficult loss to take, yes, but even more so for you. The sentiment- very generous from you, but I would...prefer you looked inward, and focused more on...self care." Another pause, and something dawned on him, like the dawn. "Oh, unless this IS a form of self care for you, trying to help with the loss others feel?"
"Trying to help with everything. Trying to...make up for it. To be worthy of being her legacy. Trying...make something worthwhile, of the freedom of choice that she gave me." She shrugs. "It never feels like it's enough."
Anthony let go of the duffle, and walked slowly back to Phaedra, hands out to the side to show that he wasn't going to try and touch her. "No point in worrying about worth, Lamb." The Mekhet's rather natural sounding Philly accent started to give way to more Russian inflections. "You already are her legacy. That is what being a childe means. The world you live in now...well...it doesn't give two derr'mo about any of that. Its depressing, yes, but that's how it goes. Now...its sounds like you're already doing a great job of it, though, of being a notable kindred." Anthony stops about two feet away from her. "You have, in a matter of minutes, informed me of a problem so dire, and in a manner so precise, that without having borne witness to any of it, I know whats what. So many of us would kill for that clarity."
She blinks up at him quietly, seeming to need a moment to process that. Then she nods. "Thank you. Hearing that...means a lot to me. It means everything, really. Um, I'm going to head home, but...we'll talk again."
He looked surprised. "Really? That all...made sense?" Anthony asked. "I get all rambly whenever I am trying to- ah well, nevermind. Yeah yeah, we'll talk. Family, you know?"
"Family. You'll have to meet the rest of us younger kids in town, too, I think." She nods, and then starts heading for the door. "Have a good day's rest, Anthony."
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