#naomi arnott

[nosnet]

Flight Of the Valkyries

by C. Todd

Time Period: Las Angeles 2005

Perspective: Naomi Arnott

Rating: PG-13

Content Warnings: Firearm Mentions, Tremere are here

Word Count: 2847

Comments: First attempt at writing this character after a really botched campaign, but I loved her and her girlfriend a lot so she got to come back. Turns out some Salubri play R6 Siege.  

Naomi hated Los Angeles. The way it felt to have her every move watched, the way the city smelled of smog, it made her miss the serenity of her home in the mountains. It had taken her almost three days to travel from Asheville, and an additional week of reconnaissance, but she’d finally found her target, Atticus Dupont - Tremere Magister, acting Prince, and Infernalist. He had made it easy enough, a rather convenient Sabbat attack had led to the previous Prince's final death, and Dupont had made sure to stake his claim early, too early. Naomi grinned at the prospect of Dupont’s death, not only a Tremere, but an Infernalist, and if what she assumed was correct, a Camarilla traitor. 

“You still with us, Naomi?” Azriel's voice echoed through the warehouse that the gathered Salubri warriors had assembled in. Naomi, now freed from her own thoughts, felt the eyes of her elders upon her. She looked about the room recalling the faces and names of each. There were five of them including herself, each one of them her senior, and she had been sired over eight hundred years ago. There was Rorke Dumas, a grisled man that appeared to be in his mid thirties, his black hair and beard oiled to keep it at bay. Milo Sapovich, he was a shorter man, his simple brown hair and bowl-like cut made him look more a monk than a warrior. Then there was Addicia, a lithe woman who resembled Naomi in age, looking no older than her late twenties, her blonde hair done up in a ponytail so that it stayed out of her face. Finally there was Azriel, Naomi’s own sire, her red hair was braided in the back much like Naomi’s own. They were all around a table, a map with the cities layout before them and a route that wound until it ended at the Tower on Figueroa Street, labeled with sevens - an obvious Tremere tell.

“Forgive me Captain, I was lost in my own musings.” Naomi entoned, making sure to make her tone apologetic. 

“No matter,” Azriel continued, “As I was saying, intel indicates that tonight the Tremere Magister's will be gathering to sire new kindred, no doubt from their flock of Ghouls that they've been training. This will make storming the chantry that much easier but we will need to remain cautious, the internal defenses of the chantry are still a mystery to us.”

“Our wards should protect us from most of their stolen magics.” Dumas boomed, “Auspex should be able to pierce their illusions.” 

“Correct,” Azriel agreed, “But an air of caution will do us all well. Remember our target is Dupont, if any of the lesser Warlocks get in our way, cut them down without mercy. But do not fall to bloodlust.”

“What if Dupont decides to Sire a new pawn tonight?” Naomi chimed in, “Surely the sins of the father should not fall to the Childe, even if they are a Tremere.” 

“We will deal with that if it presents itself. If Dupont does sire a new Tremere tonight I doubt it will be out of anything but necessity.” Naomi nodded at that, she still despised the Tremere for their countless atrocities, including the genocide of her own clan, but she had at least observed the younger, more recent kindred of the Tremere pyramid, and many of them were unaware or appalled by the actions of their elders. “However,” Azriel began again, “Our entry plan remains unchanged. Naomi, you will act as the vanguard with Milo, whilst Rorke, Addicia and Myself will follow, after Addicia creates our entrance. Once inside we fight our way through, tracking the Infernalist through Auspex, once we find him we send him screaming back to hell. Any questions?” The room was silent save for the affirming grunts that followed the plan. “Very well, don your armor. We depart within the hour.” The group scattered to different corners of the warehouse, the sound of armor plates clinking together as they were strapped with leather to bodies softly filling the empty space. Azriel approached Naomi, who had just finished strapping the last bit of her grieves to her thighs. She carried her breast plate and offered it to Naomi, a silent request for assistance. A smile spread across Naomi's features as she took the plate. She had all but been Azriels squire after she had sired her during the Crusades, only earning her armor after years of dedicated service to the Salubri knights. As Naomi pulled the final harness tight against her sire Azriel spoke. “Forgive me for disturbing your peace for this my Childe.” She began as she retrieved Naomi's own breast plate and motioned for her to turn around. Naomi obeyed and Azriel nestled the plate atop her shoulders. 

“There is no need for forgiveness, captain. My unlife is dedicated to the Clan, and the death of its enemies.” Azriel’s hands pulled at buckles and laces, making sure the plate was snug against Naomi’s flesh. 

“All true, you have always been an excellent soldier Naomi. But I caution you, do not forget to take in your unlife and stop and smell the roses as they say.” Azriel pulled down on Naomi's plate, testing the fastenings until she was satisfied. “How is that little Ghoul of yours, Sam was it? The dog?” a chuckle escaped Naomi as she finished fastening the final strap on her bracers. 

“He's well, a little menace at times, but he's smart and keeps me in good spirits. I have some local Gangrels taking care of him while I'm away.” Naomi turned to face Azriel as she offered her her own mailed hand. Azriel clasped her own against Naomi's armored forearm and pulled her in close. The two bowed their heads, the tops touching as they both let out a deep sigh. 

“May Saulot guide your steps my Childe.” Azriel whispered

“And may he keep your strike true mother.” Naomi whispered in kind. The two stood in silence for a moment, savoring it before finally letting go. 

“Prep your bike,” Azriel commanded, "Milo will not want to be kept waiting.” With that she left, making her way to the armored truck that both Rorke and Addicia were beginning to clamber into. Naomi did as instructed and found Milo as he had finished mounting the old Degtyaryov machine gun to the mount on her side car.

“Old thing still run, Milo?” Naomi asked, gesturing to the gun. Milo for his part slammed the dinner plate sized magazine on the top and pulled back on the charging handle, chambering a round. 

“Da,” he answered, his slavic accent giving the word a little more umph. “I've kept it in good condition through the world wars, although ammunition can be hard to come by.” He patted one of the many other plate sized magazines on his belt. “Luckily I brought plenty to give to our Infernalist prey.” He slid into the side car, his own plate armor rattled a little as he did so. “Come sister, there's no time to waste, our vengeance is nigh.” With that Naomi slid onto the bike, turning the key she felt it spring to life under her the engine loud and guttural. She looked back at the armored truck, and received a thumbs up from Rorke, and with that she peeled out with the truck following close behind. 

Traffic was blessedly light, it wouldn't do to have people wondering why there were two people ripping down the highway in full plate armor with a machine gun strapped to a motorcycle. 

“One minute to target, people!” Naomi yelled into her radio, “Addicia you have our entrance ready?” 

“Just you wait and see sister!” Addicia responded.

“Cut the chatter both of you, thirty seconds to target!” Rorke cut in. 

Naomi focused forward, the lights of the 777 Tower rapidly approaching. The fact that none of the outward defenses were active meant they're Intel was spot on, the bastards were busy. 

“Get ready you two!” Addicia yelled and Naomi watched as an arrow arched over the speeding bike, a small red light blinking from the tip. A moment passed and then an explosion erupted from the main entrance. A wicked grin cracked Naomi's features as she gunned the engine, the guttural roar rising to a crescendo as the bike raced up a wheelchair ramp, flying into the air as it reached the top. The bike came crashing down into the towers main foyer, those that weren't blasted away by the explosion were quickly cut down as Milo let loose with a torrent of electric green tracers from the machine gun. Naomi dismounted and quickly caught sight of a man in a fine burgundy suit approaching her, a long blade of blood forming in his grip. Naomi charged him, reaching behind her shoulder for her own sword. Familiar leather filled her grip as she drew the sword, and in one swift motion she cut the Tremere in half from collar to hip, his body burning to ash in an instant. 

The truck wasn't far behind them, barreling into the foyer before its three occupants disembarked. Azriel quickly made her way to Naomi, her sword unsheathed and shield ready. 

“Excellent work my childe, let's get ready to-” Azriel was cut off by what sounded like a yawn coming from the now ruined main desk.

“Ah I see, it's finally time. The angels have come for the infernal usurper.” A young woman who wore an almost loose fitting suit stood from the desk. Milo immediately trained the machine gun on her before Naomi reached her hand out.

“Wait!” She yelled, “She isn't a Tremere, she's a local Malkavian, Marco-”

“Polo” 

“Right,” Naomi growled, she had heard of her through her reconnaissance, but she'd never thought they'd actually meet, but that was Malkavians for you. 

“Right you are, young seraphim, and right I am to be here. I will be your guide through the windy hedge above.” Marco Polo made her way to the elevator, swaying as she walked. She pushed the call button and the door slid open. “Right this way, they are just about done!” She exclaimed, giving them a very sleepy bow. Marco Polo entered first, the five Salubri each looked at each other and shrugged before entering themselves. “The Devil will be in his laboratory, it will be well defended by his little imps.” She looked at Naomi then, an almost sad knowing look coloring her features. “I'm sorry my young angel but your wizard will be in another castle by the time our ascension has completed.” 

“My wizard?” Naomi asked the grip on her sword, tightening ever so slightly. 

“Yes, your wizard, or perhaps she is more a trickster now. She's already seen your metal pegasus. Fear not, you shall meet again where the bou's dance.” Naomi wanted to ask questions but she knew better than to try and get a straight answer from a Malkavian. If anything this may just mean she had another query after this hunt. 

“Focus up people,” Azriel called out, “We're almost there.” Azriel and Rorke readied themselves, hoisting their shields to cover the entrance over the elevator. Milo slammed a fresh magazine on top of his machine gun before shouldering it just over the other two heads. Naomi and Addicia crouched down to take advantage of the shield's cover. 

“You may want to get down Marco-” 

“Polo” 

“Right, you may want to grab some cover before this all kicks off.” 

“Fret not little angel, I am both in cover and not.” Marco Polo said with a grin. With the strange woman’s stranger words, the elevator dinged open. A bolt of lighting immediately slammed into Azriel's shield but the party began their slow march forward. Milo let out another burst of tracer fire. The room that they had entered into was a mess of winding halls that seemed to lead to infinite entrances and exits. 

“Port-side.” Marco Polo ordered and in turn the party moved left. Rorke lashed out with his great hammer, slamming a Tremere into the wall adjacent to him, leaving his chest a ruined mess of blood and broken bones. Addicia popped up, sending an arrow into the heart of another Tremere, and Azirel struck out with her sword, cleaving her target into a fine pile of ash. Naomi for her part stayed down, moving with the party she would be too exposed if she struck out with her sword. The party continued onward, following Marco Polo’s instructions as they fought on. 

“Does anyone have eyes on Dupont?!” Naomi shouted over the din of combat. 

“Use your eyes child!” Rorke growled, “I can't just see him, but I can damn near smell the brimstone on his breath.” Naomi nodded, focusing for a moment as she moved, letting her senses melt away for a moment until the world exploded in a vibrant array of colors. Each Aura that she read with her Auspex flickering too and from before she finally locked on to the black streaked soul of Atticus Dupont. 

“He's close!” Naomi shouted. 

“Right you are, child valkyrie!” Marco Polo answered, “Full steam ahead!” 

“Into the jaws of hell once more!” Rorke roared, “He's got his little council with him!”

“Rorke!” Azriel shouted, “Take the right flank, I'll take the left, Milo, Addicia cover us as we make our entry. Naomi, take that bastard's heart!” Naomi's eyes hardened as they began to approach the door. “Now!” And with Azriel's order the party’s pace went from a crawl to a sprint. Azriel and Rorke burst through the door with shields up, and almost on que Naomi had eyes on her target. Addicus Dupont stood before them, draped in ceremonial robes, drenched in blood, surrounded by a crackling shield of lightning. Behind him a blood portal closed, this Tremere’s cowardly escape magics seemed to have been prematurely wasted. Naomi began to charge, before she saw the ball of demonic fire, black as pitch, begin to form in his hands. Then she began her prayer. 

“Samiel, witness ye faithful!” Naomi was still charging the grip around the sword in her hands right and true. “I am but a mere vessel for thy wrath!” Dupont raised his hands a jet of black flame shooting out at her. She dipped to the left but the flame still caught her in the shoulder. Searing pain burst from the now burning shoulder but still she pressed on. “Let thy wrath guide my hands, let thy vengeance be my blade!” Her sword was glowing now, a white hot glow that would make lesser kindred fear the rays of the rising sun. She was on Dupont now, and with all her might she swung. Her blade bit into Duponts neck where it met his collar, lightning from the shield raced down the blade and into her hands. The runes on her armor began to glow a pale blue, the wards dampening the effect of the spell. She forced her blade through, severing leathery flesh and brittle old bone as she bore witness to Dupont’s final Death Knell. He raised his hands, another mote of black fire poised to rain down on her. But before it could fall he crumbled, his body turning from a pale white to blackened ash in the blink of an eye. 

For a moment the world was silent, the constant chatter of Milo’s gun and the war cry’s of the Salubri warriors muted as Naomi watched the ashes of Atticus Dupont fall at her feet. Then the world erupted back into a cacophony of sound. Naomi fell to her knees, the searing pain of the black flame now finally taking hold. Azriel was immediately by her side, Rorke and Addicia finishing the work of ashing the remaining Tremere Magister's. 

“Hold fast my Childe.” Azriel whispered, “I have you.” And with her words the pain from the fire began to fade, as if Azriel's touch was a soothing balm that pulled the very pain from Naomi’s flesh. “The honor is yours today Naomi, you did well.” Azriel helped Naomi to her feet, guiding her upward and bracing her against her own armored form. 

“We need to get out of here now!” Rorke bellowed, “We can revel in the glory after we get back to the safe house.” Naomi nodded and looked to Milo, a pained expression still darkening her features.  “Take my bike and make sure you're not followed, keys should still be in the ignition.” Naomi ordered, stepping up in the midst of their absconsion. Milo nodded and began to make his way out of the room and Addicia followed close behind. Rorke nodded to Azriel and took hold of Naomi’s other arm. “You did well sister, hellfires a bitch but we'll get you patched up.”

The three began their descent of the 777 Tower, the illusions fading as they made their escape back to the foyer and into the armored truck. On the route down, the Malkavian was nowhere to be found, Naomi’s questions would have to remain unanswered

[itsbaileymitchellart]

Sensitive Sweet Hearts Exhibition

curated x Tegan Iversen artworks by australian based emerging and establsihed queer  feamle idenitifying and non binary artists showcased in colourful welcoming show. -for those who wear their heart on their sleeve real,emotionally in tune,passion,gender,personal identity ,longing,self refelction,vulnurbility. celebrating the oppuritunity to be open and honest and feel cry! happy sad no reason nolstagia unrequited lovemultimentality all artist :  Amber Sirre, Brigit Annie Lambert, Brooke Van Der Linden, Cass Urquhart, Chelsea Arnott, Claire Wakeford, Claire Warren, Emma White, Esther Sandler, Freya Alexander, Hannah Rae Powell, Hannakin, Harley & Händen, Hayley Martin, Jade Mars, Jordyn McGeachin, Kalindy Williams, Karima Baadilla, Kitty Chrystal, Laura Du Vé, Laura Hayley, Lori Camarata, Luci Everett, Marusja Kharitonova, Meg Rennie, Montana Kitching, Naomi Meg, Neva Hosking, Niqui Toldi, Pey Chi, Plush Magic, Regan Brantley, Sam Stevens, Savi Ross, Sarah McDonald, Sarah McNamara, Shae San Sim, Shannon Mary, Sophie McPike, Sorcha Mackenzie, Tegan Lucy Price, Vonne Beyer, Zoe Harriet & more.

[nosnet]

A Night Out

by K. D. Lalonde

Time Period: Asheville, NC. 2005

Perspective: Briala Katherine Lanoza

Rating: PG-13

Content Warnings: Alcohol, Cigarettes, Vulgar Language, Adult Language, Stories of Violence, Anti-gay laws mentioned, Infernalism Mention, Tremere Mention, Baali Mention.

Word Count: 5579

Comments: This is an excerpt of an ongoing novel about the blossoming relationship between Briala, a Neonate Tremere, and Naomi, an old school Salubri. Their origins were in a botched campaigned, and their relationship was unplanned, unintentional, but pure and sweet. This led to a story used in NaNoWriMo in 2020. Over time I wanted to do better by these characters, so I started fresh.

Briala, a Tremere fresh out of Los Angeles, headed out for the evening, waving goodbye to roommates Sky and Cass, tonight’s plan was to bar hop. Drink some here, meander to the next, so on and so forth. She was starting to fall in love with her walks through Asheville, North Carolina; the city life, the arts, the stars in the sky. It all had such a unique charm, and she was excited to share these with exes Em and Janey when they did eventually travel this way. She was lost in thought when suddenly an Australian Shepherd walking past brushed against her leg.

“Oh, hey!” She said in a soothing voice. “Where are you going in such a hurry, little guy?” The dog looked up at her, and stopped his stride. She watched in amusement. He cocked his head to the side and let out a gentlemanly and affirmative sounding bark. Bri smiled. “You’re so smart, where’s your owner? Surely you’re not a stray. If anything, I'm the stray around here.” He got up, and moved away slowly, before looking behind him. Follow me, his expression said, so Bri obliged. She followed the Shepherd down the street, until he turned into an outside seating area for Cat and Fiddle, another relatively small bar. Hey, as good as any - Bri thought to herself before following the dog to the outside bar, and taking a seat next to him. The bar had Dreams by The Cranberries playing softly.

Oh, my life is changing everyday,

in every possible way,

and oh, my dreams,

it's never quite as it seems.

Never quite as it seems.

He sat at attention on the ground, looking around until his eyes locked onto a woman walking his way. Bri’s eyes followed, tracing boots, jeans, and a flannel covering a muscular form. Red hair braided to a side, met a freckled face with blue eyes and a concerned brow. “Sam givin’ ya any trouble?”

“T-trouble? No, not at all, he led me here. He yours?” Bri asked, trying to keep the words exiting her mouth as pristine as they had been in her brain, but was running into some trouble.

“Yeah, he’s my pup, and typically a good judge of character.”

Oh my god, what? A dog as a pickup line? Calm. Down. Briala. Hot lady. Best behavior. Talk normal now. “You sure about that? I could be some kind of evil monster.”

The stranger shook her head “Can’t be, he hunts evil monsters, just like his mom does.”

“Hunts them, huh? You mean like, he goes out of his way to track them down?”

“Sometimes.” she said, grinning. “You drinkin?”

“Sure.”

The mystery woman eyed Bri up and down, then looked to the bartender “Rum and Coke, yeah the Kill Devil one, thanks Niamh.” Niamh slid Bri the drink, and she grabbed it in motion. “We drinking to anything?”

“To safe travels and to a sense of completion.”

“Cheers” Bri said, absentmindedly, clinking her glass to the other. Travels sure, but completion? Man I haven’t felt complete with anything in a- “Travel much?” She was asked, interrupting her brain’s wandering.

“Uh, yeah actually, big change of scenery.”

“Well, yeah ~ I think I’d remember if I’d seen you around here.”

“Har har, very funny.”

“Meant it as a compliment.” “Oh,” she said, putting her face down in her glass. Bri, you’re losing it, this muscular chick is trying to put the moves on you, and you’re whiffing it. Step it up, at least ask her shit too. “You, uh, travel, also? Much?” Bri’s mental self facepalmed. The woman laughed, “Just got back from California, but this is my current haunting grounds.” “Woah, I-” It finally hit her. Briala Lanoza was not dumb, she’d been the subject of many flirt attempts that usually ended with herself having the upper hand, and more recently, full of blood. This time, this stranger was breaking her concentration, disrupting her ability to roll with it, but it was beyond her being attractive. Bri was certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was her mystery girl. The one she saw on surveillance back at the NFC. “I also just got in from California, about a week ago.”

“Ya don’t say? What are the chances? Say, you want a second?”

Bri declined, “I was actually thinking of bar hopping tonight, but I don’t know the area particularly well - Sam helped me find you so uh, here I am.”

“I know the area quite well, know all the best spots, could I show you around? Promise, I’m not some sort of creep.”

“That’s what a creep would say, but sure I need a Virgil right now. Briala Lanoza.”

“Naomi Arnott, pleasure.”

Bri blushed at the way she said pleasure. Cute accents do silly things with certain words afterall. She suppressed this but not quickly enough, Naomi had seen her blushing, and took this as encouragement. They finished their drinks, Naomi flagged Niamh, a hand signaled for tab, they nodded, and the three were off, Naomi, Briala, and Samiel the goodest boy, who offered Bri his leash. She accepted after confirming with Naomi, who allowed this. Bri hadn’t walked a dog in a while, but was not too rusty with leashes or tension. It wasn’t since she was living at home with her parents and siblings, and even then it was her little bro’s dog, not necessarily a pup that she was allowed to walk.

“So, you said you’re from around here, what brought you to California?”

“Work. There was a bit of a situation I had to deal with, but it concluded amicably.”

“Okay, sort of a dodge, but that’s fine.”

“And if I were to say I killed some kindred, then what would you say, magic girl?”

Bri’s blood froze, oh shit, is she- Naomi’s expression changed, she was extremely serious suddenly. “Look, you’re not particularly subtle with your witchery tattoos, also your aura is wild with Deep Purples and Reds, but Sparkly and Pale. An excited, desirous, magic-using Kindred. That kind of leaves but one clan unless you were a Koldun or a Magus, but those have their typical tells as well.”

“You caught me, now what?”

“A Tremere from California, let me guess - Los Angeles?”

“What were you doing at the Northridge Fashion Center a few weeks ago?”

“Looking for your kind, meeting with a friend.”

“A friend? At the mall?” Bri thought about it for a moment. “Marco Polo?”

The tension was instantly cut. Sam whimpered, looking up at his master, sensing something had changed in the atmosphere. Naomi’s eyes went wide, and her bangs bristled. “You know the Malkavian?”

“Good friend of mine.”

“Really?” Naomi was in disbelief, “Do you think she’d have any reason to betray your friendship?”

“No, she’s the entire reason I’m here and not back home.”

“I see. Well, I’m a Salubri, my team was involved in the fall of the 777 Tower. I…” She paused, trying to pick her words carefully. “I’m responsible for the death of Atticus Dupont.” Bri could tell she said this nervously, potentially expecting a blow up. This confession caused Bri to tear up, she rushed Naomi who was caught off guard at her speed. Samiel barked. For a moment it seemed all too much. Naomi looked down, realizing that she was being hugged.

“Thank you.” Bri let escape.

“Thank me? I am responsible for the death of your… sire? You realize what I’ve said right?”

“I do, and I’m grateful.”

“You’re a very complicated woman Briala, now will you please let go, we should head in if you still want to bar hop. This one’s an Elysium.”

“Heh, my bad, you just,” Bri sighed and released her, “You did something I was planning on for the long term.”

“Ah yes, you Tremere and your climbing of the corporate ladder…” Naomi rolled her eyes, flagging the door attendant, a muscular man in a trench coat who nodded and let them in, even Samiel.

“You’ve got it all wrong, it wasn’t about that-”

“Let’s grab a seat, some more drinks, and you tell me why you wanted him dead, and I’ll explain why he had to die.”

“Deal.” Bri agreed.

Bri found an open booth, and slid in, Samiel followed her, and curled up under the table at her feet. A few moments later, Naomi arrived carrying dark colored mugs. “Figured Liquor before Beer, you’re in the clear, plus this place does interesting things with fermentation and Vitae.” “I’m fine with whatever.” Bri answered, signing on for whatever the night had in store. Samiel nuzzled against her shoe, and then laid his head down to sleep. “This dog is my new best friend it seems.” “Like I said, good judge of character. So, your sire, why’d you want him dead? I need to know this first before I can just spill about what my job was back there.” “So, Northridge, especially the mall I worked at, was under attack by Sabbat - Lasombra I was told. I had recently been Ghouled by the Ravnos in town, good people. The ghouls I knew - which, Marco Polo had originally claimed to be, suggested talking to the Prince, that he would know what to do as LA was under attack. We drove up to meet him, Montague if I remember, but as we were arriving, his building exploded. Immediately our phones were interrupted with a message about this having happened, and that Dupont was to temporarily take the throne. I don’t think nothing of it, I hadn’t even met the first Prince, so we went to his tower instead.” She paused to sip at her blood beer - pretty good for what it was worth. It was thick in the way that a more European Ale would be, but it was coppery and filling - she could tell it was high in alcohol content, but this wasn’t her first rodeo. “We met, he was a dick, he spoke down to us, I could sense something was up, and my coterie all suspected foul play with Montague. The idea of this guy being in charge of my city made my stomach turn, and something had to be done about it. I figured, hell I’m tired of feeling weak in combat, two birds one stone, I get embraced, I work to be a better spell caster than him, I defeat him in combat. Took a week of training in a weird pocket dimension, and it ended in a duel. We competed for which Magister would embrace us, and I had to kill another Ghoul, it was brutal. But I got his attention, I got embraced by Dupont, but then I wasn’t given time to fight him, I was sent here through a series of portals - Path of Mercury - then I’m getting suspected of killing him myself. Climbing the corporate ladder is a common accusation these days. Anyways, that’s me.”

Bri finished her recount of what had happened, and noticed Naomi wore a more enamored expression, perhaps something had changed in the midst of her explanation.

“I see, that is, complicated. I’m sorry your vengeance was stolen-”

“Seriously don’t be, he’s dead, that’s all I wanted.”

“Well then, apologies your plot didn’t go off as expected, I know that can be frustrating, especially when the buy-in was your own life.” Naomi let out a sigh, she was troubled, and it seemed there was something on the tip of her tongue she was avoiding. “Dupont was a problem. Specifically, an infernalist. He had contacts in the Sabbat, that’s how he quickly stole the Princedom, but worse off, he studied in the ways of the Baali. My arm is still a little fucked up from him hitting me with this pitch black flame. Anyways, my Strike team got a tip from Marco Polo, granted we didn’t know she was undercover in the chantry, so it almost went bad for her. We knew that the duels were happening, we knew embraces were on the line, and we knew it was the right time to strike. She guided us through the labyrinthian path, the elevators-”

“My god, those fucking elevators.” Bri interrupted, half way through her blood beer, losing some inhibitions.

“Right? Exhausting. She apparently found some shortcuts after going under deep cover. Saved us some time. It was me, my sire Az, Rorke, Milo and Addicia. Took a lot of ammunition, carefully trained bladework, and tactical maneuvering, but we took them down. Like I said-” Naomi took off her flannel and rolled up her shirt sleeve underneath revealing a red, wrinkly shoulder scar. Bri blushed at the removal of clothing before realizing what was happening. Damn she’s fit. Oh wait, oof. Her expression shifted, from lustful to sympathetic. “Dupont hit me with conflagrated flames from hell, and although it burned badly, I finished my prayer, and cut him down - reducing him to ashes. Stunk like brimstone too.”

“Well, he was a real bastard, dangerous too, your team make it out okay?”

“I was the only one with serious wounds, and my sire took care of them. Can’t remove Daimonion burns though, not visually, I have to live with this.”

“I think it’s hot at least. A little battle damage from a victory.”

Naomi’s eyes widened again, “-Hot?”

“And why not? Maybe when we’re done here, we can enact some further vengeance.”

“Wait, what?”

“Look, I, how do I say this? I enjoy pain? Uh, you own a sword. I think you’re attractive.”

“Negative.”

Bri, not being used to being rejected so abruptly “What's happening here?”

“A, you’re sweet but you’re moving a little fast for me, B, I’m not using my sword on anyone who I don’t want to ash.”

“Ugh, yeah that makes sense I guess. I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t stop your advances, it wouldn’t do for you to give up at the slightest road block.”

“Oh?” Oh fuck, oh shit even. She, likes this? Quick, confidence, come back! “Look, I think you’re gorgeous, you seem to not hate me, I caught you staring at least once, why not see where this goes?”

“I’m perfectly fine with seeing where this goes, but I’m not following you home tonight Briala, let us get to know each other first. I’m a bit rough around the edges, you seem to have gone through some major changes lately, why rush anything?”

“Yeah,” Bri agreed begrudgingly. She had a good point, why rush anything? She began to stand, but was still locked in by Samiel. “Here’s my number so we can-”

“No, we’re not done with the evening, unless you had shit to do - you said bar hop, I said I’d show you around. Two bars is hardly bar hopping, I just needed all that clarified, and thought this would be the best place to not be bothered. This has gone well, we got time for at least one more, sit back down, Samiel sure isn’t even ready to leave here - I think I hear him snoring.”

Bri sat back down. It didn’t go amiss that this Dog owner commanded that she sit and she obeyed. Her mind wandered so commanding, so dominant, what if- “Focus, you in or you out?” “Oh I’m in.”

Naomi waved down a waiter who brought them a second blood ale. The Elysium Bar was notably louder than the previous, and right then Dio blasting through the sound system. Naomi nodded along, but kept from mouthing the words.

Between the velvet lies

There's a truth that's hard as steel, yeah

The vision never dies

Life's a never-ending wheel, say

Holy Diver

You're the star of the masquerade

No need to look so afraid

Jump, jump, jump on the tiger

You can feel his heart but you know he's mean

Some light can never be seen, yeah!

“So what do you do for fun?" 

“This?" Bri admitted.

“What, go to Elysium Bars?" 

“No, I just like getting out of the house, I like to date?" 

“Big player are you? Looking for another notch in your bedpost, is that it?" 

“No, I mean yes, but no, not anymore at least. I'm more than willing to play this out, long game, old school, we get to know each other first. It sounds nice, and well, unfortunately out of the ordinary for me."

“So, for fun you go out to a bar, and hook up with someone? Then what?" 

“Then, they ask me to move in, and I ignore all the signs saying it's moving way too fast, then I set them up with my roommate and move across the country?" Bri looked shocked. She was ready to leave that up to the imagination, to obfuscate the truth, to seem cool, but she felt urged to come clean with Naomi. “I uh, I saw your bike in the mall parking lot, I checked security cameras, printed off a photo of you because you were fucking cool, and intended to remember the badass lady person with the cool bike, but I never saw you around after that, and then my life got changed so severely, that through it all I’d been romanticizing the mystery biker chick, just the idea I have of her in my head. But it's all bullshit, that's the type of thing you see work out in bad romance novels.”

"I don't think it's bullshit." Naomi slid a hand over one of Bri’s. Bri's eyes widened, looking down at her hand, covered with Naomi's hand. They were holding hands. “You read a lot of romance novels?" 

“No, couldn't care less about them." 

“What do you like for entertainment? I'm sure I'll regret this question." 

“Slasher Movies, Monster Flicks, unironically Vampire cinema, Like Underworld. How bout you?" 

“Eh, I try to stay caught up, but there's just too many films these days. Say we've both finished these up, wanna try one more bar?”

"Sure, but I gotta know, what days were simpler for you with less movies?” “Wouldn't you like to know.” Naomi said with a chuckle, throwing her flannel back on and getting Samiel’s attention with a key jingle. “A conversation for another time…”

“Well, since you asked about what I like to do for fun, what about you? Just, drive around on a motorcycle with a sidecar? Which, I just now realized, it’s a very cute spot for a dog.” Bri asked, as Sam’s ears perked up. “Maybe you don’t hate the pickup game either? Get Sam to go around dragging pretty girls back to you.”

“Maybe I need to have a little talk with Sam later, because this is certainly a first.” Sam’s ears went back down, and he pretended to sleep to avoid the onslaught of mentions. “But no. Sure, I like to go out, have a good time, hit up a bar, maybe get into a fight, nothing too serious. I do like my job for what it’s worth-”

“And what is that?” Bri asked, her tone between teasing and genuinely interested.

“Well, things like the triple seven tower. My Sire and some old friends will find, through the grapevine, someone who’s a damn infernalist, and we can’t let them do their thing, world could end or something, who knows, but I’m good at taking down stray kindred.” Naomi started, with pride in her tone. “I also like just having downtime at the cabin, taking care of my horses-”

“HORSES?” Bri coughed out, “Like, you own horses? Multiple?”

“Own’s a strong word, they’re my Ghouls, and you shouldn’t own a Ghoul.”

“Okay, fine, but you’re housing Horses? What kind of space you got?”

“You want to meet em? Let’s say date number two.” “No, wait, time out, you can’t just coordinate date number two. Since when was Bar Crawl co-opted into Date Number one? I need to know it’s a date ahead of time, it’s only fair I actually put effort into the look.” Naomi looked away briefly and Bri wondered what was going through her mind, she couldn’t see the blush of this isn’t you putting effort into the look? “Okay, yeah, that’s fair. That’s on me.” Naomi’s voice sounded slightly lighter than before. “Look, if you’re saying you want to date out of all of this, you’re going to have to ask me out, I’m not going to fall into stereotypes, hang out with someone enough until it’s implied we’re an item. I don’t really date men, but with women it’s hard to tell sometimes, it’s like the third time we hang out and I’m certain it is a date, or certain it isn’t, and it’s the opposite.” “Listen to you, going all full one-eighty from I like to go out and hook up. Fine then. When I feel like it’s the right time, maybe I will ask you. As for now, let’s head to our next stop.” Samiel got up first, leading Bri expectantly. She slid out and was followed closely by Naomi. Naomi took Bri’s hand and led her to their third bar for the evening. This is insane. She tells me I move too fast, then goes and does this. What. The Fuck. Holding my hand, in public? I’ve done some absolutely vile shit with people, shit they wouldn’t tell their therapists about, and they wouldn’t ever be seen doing this with me in public. Holding my fucking hand. So that like, others can see. What is this? “Alright, our next stop is a bit of a busier scene, purely an outside bar sort of deal, can’t really smoke indoors these days, new laws and such.” “And what makes you think I’d care about that?” Bri asked coyly. Naomi simply moved her finger up and down the side of Bri’s index and middle, this made the poor girl shiver. Aaaaaaaah “Hey, maybe uh, just use your words here, that was, a bit much.” “Oh, uh, I was going to say, I could tell, there’s nearly an indent there, and your clothes smell of cloves. Sorry bout that.” “Uh huh, alright well, when in Rome.” “Don’t get ahead of yourself, young Tremere.” “Oh, I’m dying from laughter.” Bri said, bitchily, while producing a spare American Spirit Cigarette she’d bought from a corner store this week. The speakers hummed softly with Tracy Chapman’s Give Me One Reason.

This youthful heart can love you,

oh and give you what you need.

But I'm too old to go chasin' you around,

wastin' my precious energy.

Give me one reason to stay here,

yes and I'll turn right back around.

She still hadn’t found a place to be a regular at yet, and that was fucking with her. Why couldn’t Asheville have its own Glenmore? The dude’s a saint. She patted looking for a lighter until an old zippo was extended from Naomi’s grasp. “Here, I got ya.” Bri blushed a little, and leaned forward, putting her tip in the line of butane flame. “There’s some things I can do myself you know.” There was a hmph to her tone, a brattiness seeping through to the surface. “I see.” Naomi’s tone was unconvinced. She took out a pre-rolled cigarette from an old cigarette case. Bri looked at her confused, but accepting, then stepped up closely. “Hey, you have your own, even lit it for you.” “Yeah but you lit mine, maybe I can light yours?” She said, leaning in to touch the tips together. The end caught, and Naomi drew in the pull. “That work with your other dates?” Naomi asked, a little annoyed but ultimately happy to have gotten so close. “Maybe so,” Bri answered, putting a hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “Why? Is it working with you?” “Heh,” Naomi was caught off guard by the advancement, but she remained cool. Wasn’t about to be bested by a Tremere, combat or no. “Not even close.” She whispered in Bri's ear before moving away to go grab them some further drinks.

Bri stood there staring, declined again. She simply didn't understand, Naomi was saying she was interested, but then not falling for every line. She was in a combat of words. Fine then.

When Naomi returned, Bri was scratching Sam behind the ear and making his leg do the little twitchy thing. 

“Hey now, you really are trying take him away from me - rude.”

"Maybe ol Sammy just likes me more." Bri said smugly.

“Hold your tongue, Sorcerer." 

“Maybe you should hold it for me." 

Naomi made a somewhat grumpy face over it. She was playing along but huffy over the implication all the same. They drank their drinks, and drank in the environment, absorbing each others’ presence in the night. Their smoke mixed in the air and created some new combination of breath and particles. They ashed their cigarettes simultaneously.

“Briala." 

“Yes?" 

“What's your current motivation? You said you came here at what you first believed to be a punishment, only to later find out it was orchestrated by Marco Polo. Now that you're here, you find there's no Chantry in Asheville, that the Chantry in Winston is already under strict watch for bullshittery, and that if you publicly announce your status as a neonate Tremere, you'll be forced to serve fucking Bernard Winston, local tit.”

"My motivation�� is, I don't know, I guess to lay low then, be happy? I have friends inbound from California, maybe form a small coterie, and do like, odd jobs?”

"So yer down to do odd jobs for the rest of your days then?  And for who?" 

“Well no, because fuck that, I found that the Tremere have leadership in Vienna, I intend to join the Council of Seven so I can leash this fucking stupid pyramid." 

“Yer insane if you think they're gonna just let you waltz on in there.”

“Hey, I didn't shit all over your motivations, which I assume is Kill Bad Guys, Listen to your Alive Sire, Flirt with Hot Bitches, Take Care of your Dog and Horses in your Cabin?"

“Fair, except you left out the part about Protectin’ my Town from would-be Usurpers." 

“And you suspected me?" 

"No, not really, I was just giving you a hard time to see how you'd respond under pressure, and that Bri, that was the type of shit that impressed me. The real you," 

Bri reached for her pack of American Spirits, recently acquired but only a substitute for absent Lucky Strikes, but was interrupted by the tin. "Real shit, that's what I'm into,”

"Real shit huh?” Bri said, accepting the rolled cigarette from the tin before Naomi snapped it closed. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, I don't know what's real that's left of me." 

“You've been honest with me quite a few times this evening, I can tell.”

“How?" 

Naomi gestured to her forehead with her thumb.

“Because you just know?" 

“No, dummy, we Salubri have heightened senses, it manifests through an eye on our foreheads.”

"Okay, now you're just fucking with me”

"You mean they didn't teach you about the Salubri in your history lessons at the Chantry? Makes sense considering the American Education System and the way they consider themselves the good guys and gloss over all the genocides and shit." 

“Wait, so you have a literal third eye? Not just some metaphysical, spiritual, chakra thing, but like a real additional eye?" 

“Yes." 

“Can I see it?" 

"Maybe, but not right now.”

Bri lifted her hands up, "Fair.” Damn that's fucking cool though. But shit, I have to actually be honest around her to get anywhere. After how fast the Jane situation went down, I just don't know if anything about me isn't just concocted from ego. Fuck.

“Maybe on our First date." 

“Yeah, cause this isn't one." 

“Right, fair, hey, we've been here for a while, I've showed you some personal favorites, it's coming up on closing time for the bars, otherwise I'd do this till sun up."

“You really love this city huh?" Bri asked innocently. She loved Northridge, at least while she was there. But now in its absence, it was less about the city proper, and more its inhabitants. "Why?”

"Briala, look up” - She did, "The stars, you can actually see them here, clear of your Los Angeles smog.” Bri shrugged, Naomi had a point. "Now look to your left, to your right” - Bri continued obeying, "The folks here aren't shit heads. Sure you get a few rough ones here and there, but they get sorted out in the long run. You can safely do shit here. Not that the way we swing is illegal anymore, but it's hard to deny the fact that the country at large still hates people like us." 

“Kindred?” Bri joked. She knew what Naomi meant.

“Dykes, Briala." Naomi said in a more serious tone. Immediately Bri felt bad for joking. Admittedly it was a bad point in time for Queer People in American History, Don't Ask, Don't Tell still in effect from the nineties, Vermont and Connecticut were the only states Gay People could have Civil Unions, which was not technically a marriage, and it was only seven years after the brutal murder of Matthew Shepard. 

"Look, I know the Prince is a hard ass, but she loves this city too. She sees the beauty in it. A Toreador trait for sure. It's mostly a Gangrel City, such is the way with most mountainous or heavily forested cities, but even they don't hate the Cammy leadership here. Only other region in the states that's close to the vibe in Asheville, North Carolina is Southern West Virginia, but that’s a story for later too." Naomi downed her drink and stood up, Sam followed suit wagging his tail in excitement, he knew what was to follow. Bri simply stared at her in wonder. She only just met her, but Bri was in love with how Naomi cared about this city. She was falling, and hard.

"You sure you don't want to go back to one of our places?” Her tone wasn’t even serious at this point, and Naomi could tell.

"I'm sure, thank you, I can give you a ride home. You technically met my bike first anyways." 

“Y-yes! Absolutely."

"Come on then, before they get mad at us crowding the place as they try to close.”

"Uh, thank you, for tonight.”

"Save it for when we part.”

Bri was cut off at every pass. Try to be a sleeze, shut down, try to make a cheap goodbye, denied. It was driving her mad, but the frustration only made her more into Naomi. It's not that she hadn't been turned down before, but being turned down by someone who was into her - she couldn't wrap her mind around it, but she was addicted to the feeling. Maybe when we do go back to grace a mattress with our cold bodies, she'll just edge me.

“Come, my pensive witch girl.”

Yes ma'am. "Right, my bad.”

The three walked back to where they'd met, hand in hand, and hand in leash, appropriately. The Cat and Fiddle was closed by the time they arrived, but the motorcycle was no longer obfuscated by the cars in the back lot.

"You ever ridden a motorcycle?”

"Can't say that I have.”

"Right, well, Sammy's gonna get the connected seat to himself, it was made for him. You're holding onto me, but I need you to treat this seriously. I'm keeping ye safe here, so if I start feeling groping or some other shyte, I'm pulling over, you're walking and you don't get my number after all of this. Deal?”

“Deal." Bri had no choice butt to accept.

“Alright then," Naomi swung her leg over the seat and locked in.  “Hop on." she commanded, patting the rest of the seat behind her. Bri did as asked. She sat farther back until Naomi shook her head “No, scoot." Bri scooted, and their bodies touched. "Now, give me your hands" - Naomi placed them on her waist.

Once she was situated, Naomi nodded at Samiel, who borked in excitement, then started er up. The Zündaap’s engine purred beautifully, Bri was stunned speechless, “Okay now, keep your feet up, and hold on tight." Naomi shouted, kicking the stand up, and blasting out of there.

“Alright, we're reaching the main stretch, just point and I'll follow!”

Bri gave more than enough warning before a turn, she had directed Emily and other drivers plenty of times without having a MapQuest Printout. They zipped through town, and before arriving at the apartment, Bri's hands slipped down just slightly, and although she was serious before, Naomi guided them to her hips. Bri felt muscle beneath the denim, and her mind ran wild.

When they finally arrived at the apartment complex, Bri was dizzied. The motorcycle came to a stop as Bri was stopping herself from moving for the button. “Yep, this is me."

“Alright, you held up your end of the bargain. Here," she took Bri’s arm and took out a pen, writing her number down on flesh, narrowly dodging tattoos. “Tomorrow night, say, eleven? I'll be here to pick you up." "Just hanging out?" Bri teased. Naomi sighed, "Briala, will you go out with me." Bri faked a shocked. "Yeah, I think I will." She chuckled, clearly amused with herself. Naomi crossed her arms for a second, letting a Mmhmm escape.

“It's a date then." 

“Aye." 

“I'll see you then, thank you for the-" 

“Not so fast." Naomi said, and pulled Bri in. Kissing her forehead. “There, a starting point. See you tomorrow Briala." 

“B-bye, Naomi, good night." 

“Indeed it has been." She said confidently, before driving off. Sam’s tongue flapped in the breeze. Bri sprinted up the stairs, unlocked her door, and zipped inside. Inside, she quickly leaned against it, and slumped down. Holy shit, what a night. I’m shaking.