Genevieve: [enters room, starts making tea] Finally, I get some time alone without that darn kid. This will be a fun night out with the girls. [tea begins to boil]
Masked Figure: [runs in, kills Genevieve, runs out]
Elena: [enters] Um... hello? Genevieve? [looks around, completely misses the pile of ash by the stove, turns off the kettle]
Sophia: [enters] Oh darling! You simply must take my coat. And inform Genevieve that I have arrived. She's expecting me. Come now, don't dawdle.
Elena: I am *not* Genevieve's ghoul! I'm Elena, Julia's childe.
Sophia: How nice for you, darling. Where is little Julia anyway?
E: She . . . uh . . . couldn't make it.
So: Splendid. [rolls her eyes] Well, get on with it. [motions towards the tea, seats herself]
E: [gets out mugs, begins to rummage around for tea bags]
Shrike: [stalks in] Well, let's get this over with.
So: Shrike, my dear, how good of you to come!
Sh: [glares at Sophia] Shut up. Where is Genevieve?
So: Well, dear, it seems that Elena is standing on her.
E: [jumps to one side]
Sh: [gazes at pile of ash] Humph. Typical. Toreador never keep their word.
E: Did anyone hear anything? What could have happened to her?
So: [ignores all this, to Shrike] Well darling, you simply must have a seat and join me. Elena was just about to serve us some tea.
E: Yeah, well, why don't you just help yourselves. [carries hot water, mugs, and tea bags over]
So: I think some English Garden Party for me.
Sh: Pass the Tribal Blend.
E: [gets herself some Lipton]
[tea steeps; uncomfortable silence, as Elena tries to brush the ash off her shoes]
E: So . . . who else is supposed to be here?
Mobea: [rips door off hinges, rushes into room and breaks chair in two, does something violent with the rather tasteful curtains]
[group is stunned for a moment]
So: Mobea darling . . . can I get you some tea?
M: I can get my own tea. [proceeds to take Sophia's tea.]
So: [quietly] Charming.
Shrike: [gestures with her hand slightly as flame flickers from finger to finger]
[Mobea eyes Shrike, Shrike eyes Mobea; they sip their tea and the moment passes]
So: In any case, how is your little childe, Shrike?
Sh: Doesn't know a fireball from a lightning bolt. Hopeless. He'll never reach 3rd level.
So: Really? Well, mine is just a little darling. Always doting on me, bringing me flowers and such. It's quite charming, really.
M: What does he do?
So: Um . . . "do"?
M: All your type does things. Puke paint. Shit like that.
So: Well, Ethan is developing in many areas.
M: So he doesn't do shit.
So: No! Really, he's quite talented.
M: Maybe at kissing your ass.
So: [indignant, standing] Why you! I won't stand here and . . .
M: [extends claws] Sit down.
So: [gets very pale, sits]
E: Mine is a good man. He's very kind.
Sh: "Yours"?
E: I mean Julia's!
M: Mine is worthless.
Sh: What?
M: He is a waste of flesh. He has done nothing for me nor will he ever. If it were worth my time I would rip his throat out with my teeth and kill all his relatives. Slowly.
[nervous silence]
Vassily: [enters] I come with news of the messiah, for I am the bearer of his tidings. All will perish in his coming, and be consumed in the fires of the morning. [he continues to ramble]
So: [puts head in hands] Well, this party is truly ruined.
Sh: [lightning bolt shoots down from the sky, immolates Vassily] Well, that's better.
M: [leaps at Sh] You used that too soon, bitch! Die!!!
[they tumble to the floor, Mobea on top of Shrike, pinning her down.]
So: Ladies, please, this is *not* proper behavior.
E: [stands, calmly enters fighting stance]
M: [rips large chunks out of Shrike]
Sh: [collapses, grievously wounded]
M: [rises and turns, facing Sophia and Elena]
So: [looking very nervous] Um . . . Elena is the one you want . . . there's something you should know about her . . .
E: [spins, kicks, knocks Mobea to the floor] Elena can take care of herself!
So: Well, that was quite enough for one evening. Let's not do this again sometime, shall we? [leaves]
Sh: [to Mobea] The Tremere will hear of this. [drags herself out]
E: [cautiously backs out, staying in fighting stance; when she reaches the door she bows] Good night. [leaves]
M: [picks self up] Bitches. I'm going to go kill some Archons. They piss me off less! [leaves]
[silence]
Genevieve's Pile of Ash: [quietly] Um . . . I'm not dead yet . . . Actually, I'm feeling better . . . [pile of ash crumbles a bit more]