OOC: This takes place while the fight with the vizard is going on and shortly after my collab with Sera. I don't mind Q NPCs appearing however, I'm waiting on posts from my PC people thus don't complain if you're left out. Any questions on what you can or can't mention or should know shoot me a PM or IM. First few rounds will be mingling so we don't have me spouting shit and everyone repeating the shit twenty times.
The lavish entrance of the Die Rasse mansion had taken on the air of a lavish party as Tokyo burned. Many would question just how functional this was, however for many of the Quincy, if everything went according to plan, this would be the last time earth stood divided in the face of the supernatural threats. As the drinks flowed a solitary figure made his way down the grand central staircase and did his best to blend in with the crowd.
Kristofer Brandt had already been taken into confidence and knew much of what this meeting would entail. Still though he had to mingle with the crowd as the last cogs of the machine were lowered into place.Up above as the quincy mingled the leaders were putting the final touches on what should be said, or rather what was best left unsaid. Bored with this, Kris was searching the assembled crowd hoping to see a friendly face or two.
The first face to greet the young quincy was one not much older than himself. Into his mid-twenties, Allen Goddenheim was the picture of suave. His dark hair was swept back with gel, leaving his broad forehead plain. It emphasised his eyes, he believed, and as such his dark calculating eyes sat behind oval glasses. He was dressed particularly formal, the way he liked, in pressed dress pants and a collared button-down shirt. Everything he wore was in dull colors right down to the sheen of his polished black shoes.
A particularly forced smile was placed on his clean shaven face, and only when he spotted Kristopher did it look real. Smooth as a crystal stream, Allen crossed the busy ball-room floor of die rasse manor. His smile creased the features of his face, "Brother!” he called perhaps a little too loud. "My but it is good to see you. We haven’t spoken in ages, how are things?”
Shifting a glass of dark wine from one hand to another, Allen made as if to embrace Kristopher.
The second however, was an individual far less affable.
Striding up to the bright-haired acolyte, Andrew Laurent's steely eyes peered down at the boy with a look of contempt. Still, his pale lips curled upwards in the slightest of smiles, doing just enough to veil his displeasure. Seemingly the last active relic from his antediluvian bloodline, the blue-haired businessman was certainly out of place at the gathering. While he had indeed participated in the Ayers' ill-conceived 'liberation' of their kind, Laurent had done so to serve his own purposes and nothing more. The most outspoken about the groups failings, Andrew was quick to denounce any links he had with the movement.
In life as in business, sometimes the truth required some revising.
Still, were his involvement to come to light, it could not be said that he was cut from the same cloth as the naive Ayers' children. Anyone who knew Andrew and how he operated knew exactly why he had joined their cause: power. And it was for this same reason that he stood before Brandt's progeny, putting on a plastic smile and an amicable front.
"Kristofer!" he chortled. The ancient Erderschalk bangles jangled noisily upon his wrist as he extended a hand to the boy in greeting. "Wie geht es Ihnen?"
Nick had mixed emotions about the party that was going on in the Die Rasse manor. He was excited to hear the big news everyone had been whispering about. Then there was still the problem of his new peers giving him hell because he is a "Halfbreed" as they would call him. Regardless of his high school drama, the new archer left his room for the party.
Before Nick could get into the manor he could glasses of wine chiming together as his fellow brotheren greeted each other. As soon as anyone saw the blue-haired quincy they walked away in disgusted. "Don't let it get to you," Nick told himself as he spotted the only person he ew wouldn't judge him.
"Hey Kris, are there any chicks in this place? All I have been seeing is dudes! Especially now what a sausage fest," Nick said to Kris as he interrupted the previous conversations he was entertaining.
"Oops! I didn't mean to interrupt brah," he said finally looking at Kris' companions. "I'm Nickulas Ro......"
Suddenly, a raven-haired girl bumped into Nickulas, spilling her drink all down his shirt.
"Watch where you’re walking, you buffoon!” she shouted at him. Her hazel eyes shot daggers at the Quincy before she looked down to examine her navy blue dress. Fortunately, her drink only managed to spill on Nickulas’ shirt and her olive-toned hand.
Grabbing a napkin from a nearby table, she dabbed the liquid on her hand.
"Calm down, you are causing too much of a commotion, dear," Shausch said as he put his hand on the raven-haired girl's shoulder. Even though he didn't really want to get involved with this event, the archer's senses implicated to him that this would get way too loud for him to enjoy the gathering. His hair colour was what made him stand out in the crowd, but regardless he did enjoy the party-esque feeling that this gathering had to it. Turning his gaze to Nickulas he glanced a smile and introduced himself in a polite manner.
"Shausch Kibler, nice to meet you, Nickulas was it?"
The quincy felt sickened with the rush of activity that seemed centered on him, as well as the information he knew was being discussed upstairs. Almost without thinking he went to embrace the man, "Its been too long brother." The red-head said cordially. The sad part is, it would have been even longer if they hadn’t by chance met again in Tokyo. Kris’ flight from his home had been a quick one, with the dark accusations of murder, the boy cleared his name as fast as possible and made for as far a destination as he could. He couldn’t say he disliked the family ties within the organization though.
Sliping into his native tongue again the Quincy addressed the second man to speak to him, "Alles geht gut mein freund. Wie funktioniert die Welt behandeln Sie?” The archer turned to address Nick and Shaust, but thought that their latest debacle would do well without his interference.
Nick a took a deep breathe as he wiped the spill off of his pants, "Good thing these pants are black and spill proof. So does a beauty such as you have a name?"
"Kill them with kindness, no matter how nasty they get!"
Not giving the raven-haired girl anytime to response, he turned away with a smile towards the latest brother to introduce himself. "Yes, it is Shausch and it is nice to meet you. My full name is." he paused making sure no one would spill another drink on him.
"My full name is Nickulas Rouga Wright," Nick finished at last.
Turning his attention back to Kris, "Hey bro I have a bone to pick with you! You don't call! You don't write! JK bro JK, but do you happen to know what this whole party could be about?"
Three slipped her shoulder out from underneath Shausch’s hand. Not only was it creepy for this pervert to place his hand her underage shoulder, but now two members of this gaggle of archer were speaking in a language she neither understood nor cared to hear. Turning her back to the group, she headed to the nearest, isolated corner.
The raven haired girl couldn’t wait for this gathering to be over. She hated being in this dress, hated being surrounded by so many men, and especially hated not knowing why they were all gathered here. You sought them out for a reason... she reminded herself, placing her back into the corner so that no one else could sneak up on her.
"It's treating me well enough," the blue-haired archer sighed, lapsing back into Japanese. "My work is a fickle thing as always, markets are volatile...I won't bore you with the details. More importantly,"
His cold eyes traced their way back up the vaulting staircase behind Kristofer. A disappointed breath escaped the man's lips as he straightened his tie, adjusting his ancestral Quincy-cross-come-tie-clip.
"This is all very insidious, isn't it? To suddenly gather us all here, only to keep the matters most important to us behind closed doors."
The Brandts had always been an outlandish lot in Andrew's eyes -- notorious amongst their kind for their elitist attitude -- living a life of lavish excess while their brethren suffered. Even their current rendezvous paid credence to that notion. Still, Laurent couldn't hold it against them; to do so would be hypocritical. What bothered him was their motive. For a group like them to call such a sudden gathering was more than a bit unusual. If they were anything like him -- and he knew they were -- there was some kind of ulterior incentive.
"Would you care to enlighten us, young Kristofer, as to why we've been gathered here on such short notice?"
Allen chimed in with a chuckle. "Maybe it’s simply a family reunion of the bloodlines. Things have been rather dark for us.” Slipping one hand into a free pocket, the Goddenheim man fixed Laurent with a weighing eye. It was all too clear that he was sizing up the older quincy. Was he fast, strong, resourceful, a valuable tool to use later or perhaps one that needed to be thrown away after another use? Only Laurent would give away those answers as time dragged on.
"I’m sure everything will be revealed in good time, but it is not so, as you described it, ‘insidious’ to have us all here. The matter must be very important to have called all these families.” Allen’s eyes rolled over to his half-brother. "The question that we should all be asking, I think, is if this will be another matter like that silly resistance a few months ago.” Another chuckle escaped Allen, and he looked to Laurent. "Can you believe it? A group of quincy got together and thought they could challenge those shinigami. Must have been all young fools, given how brashly it was formulated.
"What do you think Mister.... I’m terribly sorry I didn’t catch your name.â
"Andrew," the man replied dryly, "Andrew Laurent."
Just as the younger man was sizing him up, so too was Andrew judging the youth. A pitiful excuse of a Quincy to be sure; it was painfully obvious what the child was up to. Subtlety, it seemed, was a trait that had died with his generation. Still, he had to give the young man some credit. To know about the businessman's involvement with the Quincy Resistance Front was quite spectacular in and of itself -- Andrew had been meticulous in his quest to cover his tracks. To try and get a rise out of him so publicly was deserving of merit, but Laurent would not be manipulated so easily.
"A terrible business, that." the blue-haired man sighed, putting on a saddened expression. "What did they hope to achieve other than their own deaths? When news reached me overseas I must admit I was terribly perturbed. I had met the Ayers' children on more than one occasion...to think those two would dream up something as foolhardy as this resistance is simply shocking."
Heaving another long sigh, the businessman turned to one of the nearby servers and snatched up af full wine glass. "It is a shame, though. We're already dwindling. To lose any Quincy is nothing short of a tragedy."
"A toast," he smiled half-heartily, raising his drink ever so slightly. "To our fallen comrades, and more importantly, to those of us who live on."
Allen politely took the glass from Andrew when it was offered and held it up. "I can’t say much to the toast of dead idiots, but the strong and the clever live - that’s what is important. To our brethren,” he smiled as the two glasses touched, some of his own campaign spilling over into the other man’s, and their letting out a crystal-bell peal that echoed around them. "And to the Hunt,” he finished, pressing the spirit to his lips.
Carrying on the conversation, Allen shifted his stance slightly. "I was in Tokyo at the time, actually. My business was just getting some new clients who were new to the trade, and they needed a bit of re-working before we’d let their merchandise go anywhere. You can only imagine their faces when, all-of-the-sudden, the city starts lighting up like an American Fourth of July parade.” His commentary was punctuated by a soft chuckle. "Ah that was so much fun that day.”
Turning back to Andrews, Allen waved his free hand in the air, "Forgive me. I sometimes forget where I am and run on tangents like that.” He shifted his attention to Kristopher. "Anyways, we’re getting off topic. The meeting, brother, what is going on?”
