Who: Chiara di Palermo and Zipporah Bakst (possible NPC Ach) What: Setting up L’albergo’s medical wing. When: July 9th, 1888 Where: L’albergo, Level 1 (BS) Rating: Low Warnings: Probably none
The arrangement with the Jewish woman was going better than she could have hoped. So many people in this day and age would have gladly taken the money and yet done as little as possible to justify it being given to them. Zipporah, by contrast, appeared to have been working tirelessly since the moment Chiara had left her small apartment. She had already been by once (while Chiara was out attending to business) to drop off a load of supplies and begin fitting out the room she had been given. Chiara was pleased.
There was a large area of L’albergo’s ground floor that had previously been left unused. Chiara was not in the business of doling out opulence and luxury to those who had not earned it, and so had considered the existing ground floor suites to be suitable for the Neofite without being expanded into the unused space. The result was that there was plenty of space to offer Zipporah.
On returning home she had bought a bed for the newly christened medical wing, but hadn’t known what else to do - she would have to wait for Zipporah to arrive, the better to direct her.
Now that Zipporah knew where to go, she’d managed to screw up her bravery, and had actually managed to flag a hansom-cab to take her and Ach to L’albergo. It’d cut a significant amount of time off her journey, and she could certainly afford the expense -- even though the driver had looked somewhat astonished to have a fare in her neck of the woods (and she’d been astonished he’d stopped for her), he’d helped Ach load up their boxes and bags readily enough.
She’d never ridden in a hansom cab before. Then again, her association with the vampire would no doubt provide many firsts.
When the hansom cab pulled up to the now familiar apartment building, Ach got to dutifully unloading, and the driver lent a hand after being carefully and precisely paid and tipped (she’d had to make inquiries about such things ahead of time to make certain of the proper amount). Zipporah made her way up the steps in the meanwhile, and rang the bell.
This time, Chiara was expecting her, but she was not a person who opened her own door. She sent a Neofita, who opened the door to Zipporah, and accompanied her through the building to the medical wing before taking her leave. Chiara was there, waiting.
“You made it,” she said, opting this time to speak in Russian. The accent was obvious when she spoke English, even if Chiara’s Yiddish was not second-nature enough to have placed her accent when speaking Yiddish. “I see you have wasted no time in bringing things to stock the cupboards. This is good, and bodes well for my trust in you.”
Call it a childish pleasure, but Chiara never tired of surprising people with her ability to speak their language. Watching people’s eyes light up in recognition gave her such a thrill every time. She adored languages, and knew there were still more to be learned. She made a mental note to expand her circle enough to begin learning something, anything, that she thus far did not know.
“Is there anything you need from me?” she asked, continuing in Russian. “Any more money, or for me to put you in contact with anyone who sells something you need access to?” She wasn’t sure if she even knew anyone of the sort, but among her many and varied contacts there was sure to be someone who could grease the kind of wheels Zipporah needed greased.
Zipporah gave a small curtsy when she saw the Lady di Palermo waiting for her in the room she’d designated as the medical suite, and while she started a little at the lady’s choice in language, she knew enough about the woman she’d thrown her lot in with by now to take such talents in stride.
“My Lady,” she replied in kind, acknowledging the praise with a small, satisfied grin. “This room is more than adequate for our purposes, and will serve quite nicely. I very much appreciated the cabinet space -- quite convenient indeed. We’ll be able to work here quite well.”
She laughed a little at Chiara’s query regarding supplies. “The initial money has been more than adequate,” she added. “I’ll be sure to let you know if we require any more, nothing but the finest quality supplies for you and your sorelle, of course, but we’ve been able to purchase both the raw materials and medical and magical tools we typically put to use, with plenty in the remaining balance should we require anything further.”
“And we have our usual suppliers,” she added, smiling. “I shall be certain to let you know if there’s anything we can’t source ourselves.”
“Your Russian is quite good,” she continued, politely.
“It ought to be, I lived there for almost a hundred and eighty years,” Chiara quipped. Then, in a more subdued tone, she added, “I saw some of what the Russians did to your people. You should know that I did not condone it, and I did not support it.”
But that was enough about that.
“I hear you spoke to one of my sorelle,” Chiara remarked mildly, by way of a change of subject. “So you have heard some of the benefits of membership. Of course I quite understand why membership would not be appropriate for you, but…” She winked. “As I said to you the first time we met, I can sense power in you, and I like that. If you ever want to go to university, or access any of my other connections, you have but to say the word. I can imagine that your existing skills, combined with traditional medical training, would make you quite formidable.”
She meant the offer, too. She had taken a liking to Zipporah, her straight talking and her honorable behavior. It was in Chiara’s nature to want to nurture and encourage women just exactly like Zipporah.
Zipporah dipped her head in acknowledgement, and paused at the offer. “My Lady is most generous,” she said. “I'll be certain for to let you know should I wish to take you up on it.”
“And yes, Keira spoke most highly of you, and this organization. I feel quite… grateful for such an association. I believe it to be quite beneficial all round.”
She looked up at Chiara thoughtfully. “Your security…” she waved a hand. “It could be better. Much. I might supplement it if you'd like.”
“My security?” Chiara repeated, surprised. “What do you mean? I have everything under lock and key. Admittedly, all the sorelle have a key to the front door of the building - and so do you, now - but everything is locked, and we are so many that it would be impossible to simply sneak inside.”
She paused, thinking hard about the fortifications around L’albergo. “Would it not?”
Zipporah shrugged. “I mean to have a secure warding, denying entry altogether to those who would wish harm or specific unwanted persons, preventing malevolent spirits from taking root and causing mischief, protections from fire, perhaps slight misdirection for those casual passers by to not pay overmuch attention to the building, alerts for attempted entry through windows…” she raised an eyebrow. “I knew you intended no harm when you came to my house. Believe me, you would not have made it over the threshold otherwise.”
She knew that keys alone would not be a deterrent to a truly motivated adversary. Zipporah’s house was a veritable fortress, and she tended to err on the side of caution as a general rule, but she slept better for it.
Chiara pondered this a little more. It certainly couldn’t hurt. She liked the notion that had she intended harm, she would not have made it inside Zipporah’s house - that was something she wanted for L’albergo.
“Good point, well made,” she conceded. “I trust that another twenty pounds will cover whatever you need to create and maintain such a security system?”
Zipporah swallowed at the generous sum, but she nodded. “Yes, Lady di Palermo, that would suit. It’d be extra to add exclusion of specific persons as they come up.” She raised her chin a little, figuring that it was an extra effort, and if Chiara wanted it, she'd be willing to pay for it. “I might draw up a list of the wardings I would want to install were I you, with descriptions of how they might work in practice, and give them to you so you might make any changes or ask questions.”
“Very well.” Chiara reached into the small bag she carried and pulled out another couple of banknotes, passing them to Zipporah. “You should know that I feel extremely lucky to have met you, Miss Bakst. I do not remember the last time I met someone so resourceful and… useful, to use a distasteful adjective. You are very multi talented.”
That aside, it was down to business. Without being invited to sit down, Chiara found herself a seat on one of the simple chairs in the room. “I need to talk to you about a couple of things,” she said. “The first of which being discretion. You know what I am. That is not common knowledge, and I should not like for it to become so. My reason for revealing this to you was to inspire trust…”
She smiled again, though this was a much more…. toothy affair.
“I do not enjoy having my trust betrayed.”
Zipporah turned pale. She ran through her conversation with Keira carefully -- ah. She’d made an off-handed remark about Chiara not being human, assuming it was common knowledge for those who worked for her. “Profoundest apologies, My Lady,” she replied, her heart leaping in her chest. “It was… I was… I would never breathe a word of your nature or this place outside of these walls, and I…” she swallowed. “I should not have…” the word escaped her, and she frowned, digging for it. “Assumed,” she finally landed on.
Nodding, Chiara retracted her fangs. She hadn’t meant to scare the poor girl, just intimidate her into remembering which of them was in charge here… which probably amounted to the same thing.
“Le fidate are the only sisters who know my true identity,” she clarified. “And I wish it to remain so. Much of the sisterhood hierarchy is predicated on knowledge, and those at lower ranks do not know that which those at higher ranks are privy to.” From Zipporah’s pale face and the rapid beating of her heart - because Chiara could hear it - she knew the girl had already spilled the beans. If she had not, she would not be panicking. “So. You will tell me who you told, and I will have a word with that girl, and we will say no more about it.”
“Keira,” Zipporah replied without hesitation, although she frowned at the thought that the pleasant, pretty woman who’d shown her such kindness would be in trouble on her account. “It was entirely innocent on both our parts, I assure you -- she asked about my experiences working with those who weren’t human, and I answered in truth that my experience was limited, but that I had some, and I hadn’t given thought to the notion that your women might not be human, but as you were not…” she shrugged, a little miserably. “I said to her that I knew you were not human, no more, and not because of any prompting from her,” she added.
At this, Chiara actually smiled. “Oh, Keira. Then we may say no more about it.” Because Keira was no more human than Chiara was, and there was an element of mutually assured destruction about this situation: Keira no more wanted her secret out than Chiara did.
“No harm done. But let this be the last slip,” she said, her tone slightly warning. “By some miracle you chose to be indiscreet with the one sorelle with whom it does not matter so much. But given your skill with magic, I had hoped to bring you in for some other small jobs here and there, paid of course, and this would not be possible if I thought you indiscreet.”
Zipporah’s shoulders relaxed, and she nodded in acknowledgement, more than a little relieved. The second part gave her pause, though, and she raised an eyebrow. “I would know the nature of what you would require of me in advance, and have the freedom for to say no?” She asked, a little hesitantly. Keira’s description of the sorelle had made her uncertain about the nature of the organization Chiara was running, as it sounded nothing like a criminal organization, but being around the venerable lady once more had a way of bringing it home -- the way Chiara did business was familiar to Zipporah, and while she would be foolish to turn down opportunities for additional revenue altogether, she was wary about getting too involved.
“But of course,” Chiara assured her. “Of course, the exact details of a… project, shall we say, are only made explicit to the sorelline and the fidate, but you would be told exactly as much as you would need to know. I do not know anything concrete right now, but I envision… making people fall asleep. Bringing down wards. That sort of thing. If you were able to make certain people fall asleep at a prearranged time, for example, that would easily be worth a hundred pounds to me and mine.”
“I see,” Zipporah replied, a little faintly, before clearing her throat. “I will consider carefully any proposal you request of me,” she said, a little more firmly.
She marvelled a little at the change in her circumstances that had arisen from Chiara’s knocking on her door, which led to a question that had been niggling her ever since. “May I ask you,” she said, carefully, “who it was that recommended me to you? I believe I owe her a rather substantial thanks.”
“Not a woman, surprisingly. Gabriel Allen,” Chiara said candidly. “He mentioned you to me, and long acquaintance with Gabriel has taught me that if he brings someone or something up, it is worth looking into. It is amusing that you should mention wanting to thank him for bringing us together, because I thought the same thing.”
The name was utterly unfamiliar to Zipporah, but she tucked it away in her memory, and resolved to make inquiries next time she was at the Lionhart (about this mysterious Mr Allen -- she was certainly not foolish enough to ask around about Chiara).
“Well,” she replied. “I am glad he did.”
She meant it too -- while her interactions with Chiara had been (and, she had no doubt, would continue to be) slightly terrifying and more than a little over her head, not to mention morally dubious, she had benefitted greatly from the relationship thus far, and from what she’d experienced, Chiara was fair and generous -- she could do far, far worse than such an association.