Prompt 1.B.1 (Revenge - Red Delicious) Title: The Ruins of Ur - I Fandom: World of Darkness: Vampire the Masquerade Characters: Diego Giovanni, Mithras, and Lady Anne Bowseley Prompt: 1.B.1 (Revenge - Red Delicious) Word Count: 939 Author's Notes: Posted as Diego Giovanni. This is the opening portion of a longer story-arc that will play out over the next few months. If pieces get written as a result of the prompts here, I will note that and link back to the previous sections. In ambrogino's account, the story will be told further in the comments to the main entry. The standard disclaimers apply -- I don't own these characters, White Wolf Publishing does, and they just let me play with them for fun. Thank you.
The Elysium of Mithras, Prince of London 25 April, 1941
"Our only request is to be accorded the same consideration that we have given you." Diego Giovanni spoke calmly to the prince of the city.
A distinctly feminine, but unladylike snort, came from the third person in the room. Diego looked over to Lady Anne Bowesley, the seneschal for the prince, intent upon rebuking her for both the slight and her insolence.
"Let him speak," Mithras' words silenced them both.
Once more Diego looked at the Cainite trying to size him up. Mithras, the prince of London, was a generation younger than Augustus Giovanni, but far older than the clan patriarch. Diego would not think to try and out-lie the small, swarthy man before him, nor would he try and obfuscate his intentions in sophisticated sophistry. On the one hand, the presence of Lady Anne would defeat that; and on the second, it was demeaning to Diego personally. No, in the prince, he sensed a common bond of honour that the world had not seen for a few centuries.
"Mukhtar Bey, caitiff though he is, styles himself as a Ventrue prince in honour of Antonius. We would consider it a courtesy if you were to persuade him that a renewed Giovanni presence in Cairo would be beneficial to the city and to our society as a whole." Diego spoke to Mithras directly sparing an occasional glance at Bowesley. She was very young by Cainite reckoning, her position owing much to her native intelligence and cunning, but she simply could not understand the older concepts of honour and obligation as well as he and Mithras could.
"As you consider the scuttling of the Umbria a courtesy to the Allied forces," Mithras replied with a small curl of a smile.
"Indeed. The Giovanni are still not sympathetic to the fascists. Which is why we-"
"Always it returns to Cairo. Why?" Lady Anne cut across Diego's reasoning with her question. "Does the expulsion from one city rankle so?"
Tempted as he was to wipe the smug look of triumph off the bitch's face with the back of his hand, Diego merely smiled and gave an indulgent nod of his head to her as if she were only a precocious child speaking out of turn. "It rankles, Lady Anne, because the expulsion was without merit and based upon a falsehood. If the Ventrue wish to continue to be fooled by Tremere trickery, then I shall stop arguing my position."
As expected, the mention of the Tremere pulling the wool over the eyes of the Ventrue cut deeply. Diego could hear Lady Anne stiffen across from him as she glanced questioningly at Mithras. The swarthy man did not appear to move, or give any indication that he heard any of the last parts of the conversation. A deep rumble that served as a laugh sounded dryly across the table where they were sat for this audience, and even Diego's brows itched to rise at the unexpected sound.
"Yes --" Mithras finally drawled out the word, "I can understand how such a situation must rankle and I would not care to guess which of our clans hate the witches more. Yet I do not see, clearly, how any of your struggles with the Tremere could be considered beneficial consideration to the Ventrue -- or even to the Camarilla."
"Nor would I wish you to make such connections. Any struggles we have, as you say, are not Camarilla business, nor even clan business. I would call them -- what is a good word -- small disagreements between individuals." Diego took pleasure in denying Bowesley the chance to accuse the Giovanni of breaking the rules of the Promise of 1528. Of course, he personally would not use the word 'disagreement' so much as vendetta, but that would also not be a wise thing to admit out loud.
The seneschal's expression did not hide her beliefs that Diego was -- well, not lying but, at least, deliberately bending the truth. Nor did it hide how displeased she was that there was nothing she could do about this unless one of the Tremere made a formal complaint to the prince's court. Given the look in Lady Anne's eyes, Diego thought it prudent to continue before the discussion devolved into a game of 'he said/she said' that the woman opposite him seemed all too eager to play.
"I think that the Senate in Venice would be disappointed to learn all of our past actions of support for the Allied cause has been so quickly forgotten." Posturing and quick-fire words were better suited to other negotiations. Tonight, the truth was a far shaper sword for him to use, and so his voiced remained calm as he laid the truth out upon the table. His quiet words cut deeply, he was pleased to note. Oh, there were no in drawn hisses of breath to rebuke him nor angry flashes of red in their eyes as their Beasts roused.
No, nothing so dramatic, for that would admit to their weaknesses -- but they were revealed in the subtle stiffening of their bodies that only another Cainite would notice. The Ventrue clung mightily to their noble roots, and like most nobility, they were flat broke in the modern nights. 'Rich in name, poor in property'. It was a motto that all Giovanni remembered when dealing with the Ventrue, if only to remind the bankers that a favour owed could be far more valuable than monies repaid. "Allowing us back into Cairo would go very far in repaying the loans we have made over the past decade."