#she's never been to the Asylum in Santa Monica

[byberbunk2069]

When she’s not plundering the Net she’s collecting posters.

[ventruevitae]

Mitchell has a close encounter of the supernatural kind; A glimpse into Kat's past lays the groundwork for future mistakes.

Rated M. 36.7k Words as of Chapters 5/15.

October, 2004. Santa Monica, California.

—

The Asylum’s front door opens with a burst, and Mitchell spills out into the street in an uncoordinated spectacle of panic. She knows that people are watching her scramble for balance, knows she must look half a fool for failing to walk a straight line. 

They’re laughing at you. Or they’re drunk. Take your pick.

It’s probably both. 

The judgement of strangers feels hot and prickly on the back of her neck. 

She couldn’t help but feel that she might have been better off never speaking with Jeanette before she made her mad dash to the door. The less she knew, the less there was to process and integrate into her view of the world. Malkavian tastes so familiar on the back of her tongue when she silently rolls the syllables around her mouth and in her head, but the sense of solidarity that came with the word was disconcerting. Could it be true? Could there really be a group of people like her , who would be able to understand her on a molecular level? What would that look like? 

Do I even want that? 

Unfamiliar familiarity.

How uncomfortable. 

READ MORE. || READ FROM THE BEGINNING.

[inquisitornocturn]

≪─ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ: ᴄʜ.8 - ᴄʟᴜʙ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀɢʟᴏᴡ ─≫

⋟ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Sebastian LaCroix/f!reader the Ventrue neonate

⋟ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: y/n etc is not used, rating - E, mention of past SA, blood drinking, smut, begging, PiV, creampies.

⋟ 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: From climbing the corporate ladder to being told you need to feast on human blood - this is your new life, Fledgling. The world has changed for you so drastically, you know you will need time to adjust and your new so called "boss" is not making it easy. He's sending you on tasks that feel like they were designed to get you killed. It makes you furious: at Sebastian, at your vampirism, at your lowly position in this brand new society you just stepped into. Still, LaCroix is just the type to get under your skin with ease, and he does it well. Too well. You are not too sure if you can resist his pull.

⋟ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,513

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: enjoy♡~

⋟ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: [link]

When you return home to your apartment you are already thinking about how you are going to tackle the Grout task. You heard some unpleasant things about Malkavians and after dealing with Voerman sisters… or whatever they… she… whatever the situation there was – you weren’t impressed by it. Being captured by an unstable Primogen seems like a scenario where you could get your limbs torn off in the end. Or get trapped in a nightmarish scenario that Toreador Primogen laid out back at the meeting.

You know you need to protect yourself, so you count your cash and take some extra from your secure spot behind your bed, then grab your phone this time since you didn’t bring it to the meeting. You need to see Mercurio for some guns and ammo if you want to make it out alive of the Grout mansion. And while you’re not sure there’s going to be a fight there – you are not going to bring just your fists to a possibly deadly situation.

But then you hear a familiar noise of an email arriving in your inbox. You wonder what is it again but without delay you walk to computer and check it. Surprisingly there’s no email address of the sender and the subject just reads: loot.

“Loot?” you raise an eyebrow and click on the message but there’s not a lot in there either.

Santa Monica haven. Tonight.

That’s all.

“I am so done getting fucking cryptic messages all the time.” You frown and click out of the email window. “Why can’t everyone just agree to stop being so fucking mysterious, ugh.” you swear, fully annoyed, but you are intrigued.

You haven’t been to your former Santa Monica haven since you moved out. You’re pretty sure it’s not even your haven anymore, it probably will get passed to a new and highly confused Kindred when the time comes. But you guess it’s still not occupied if you have gotten this message.

After looking at the clock you decide you will have time for a short stop at your former lodgings. After all Mercurio is still residing in Santa Monica on Prince’s orders, so you are sure you will find him in his usual spot, maybe getting some drinks at the Asylum if he’s off duty for LaCroix.

And so you leave. You get into your car and drive to Santa Monica. It never takes you too long to get there nowadays, traffic is always lighter during the night and tonight you enjoy the drive. It’s still raining when you leave, but when you get closer to the city it stops, leaving fresh air that smells of ocean. Deb of the Night is on the radio. You smile, you feel… good.

You are starting to really like this new life of yours. Yes, there’s things to do and ladders to climb, but you like it. You weren’t too conflicted about drinking blood from the very beginning but you can’t deny that you truly enjoy it now. You enjoy the night. You enjoy the atmosphere. You enjoy having your own Ghoul. You enjoy having unique powers. But most of all – you enjoy the politics. You feel like fish in the water because unlike during your life as a CEO - you don’t just simply sit in your decked out office anymore, listening to boring old fat men tell you how stocks are dropping while not being able pull away their eyes from either your legs or your cleavage. Now you have power to move freely and to be physical in retaliation. If occasion arises, of course. You were never the one to dirty your hands, but you’ve found a new passion for doing things your way.

Wind is blowing through your car because you have a window open and when radio turns from talk show to music you turn it louder, smiling even wider, speeding maybe a little too much but still within limits, it’s still better not to alert the cops. You feel… alive. And you laugh. You laugh thinking about all those minimalist offices that you won’t have to see again. You laugh thinking about all the distant relatives who never cared for you, but probably are fighting nail and tooth for your money thinking you’re dead. You laugh thinking how cleverly you claimed all your money and sold all your stocks and portfolios, making yourself insanely rich in the process. You laugh thinking how you will never have to let same old sweaty men slap your ass because you want them to invest into your business. And most importantly – you laugh hard, with almost tears in your eyes, thinking how you will never have to agree to ‘favors’, get humiliated, used, abused, beaten and practically raped so that you can keep your business afloat and your poor old dead daddy’s name one worth of respect.

All of that… gone. Gone when your Sire decided to Embrace you. Gone with the wind, like the one blowing against your face, blowing through your hair, caressing your hands. You laugh, for just a little too long, sounding a little manic even to yourself, but you let it out. The grief and relief, at the same time. Then you finally calm down and inhale deeply, filling your dead lungs with night air. You had to learn even to breathe, but that didn’t stop you from becoming a known name in LA already.

It’s only the beginning.

When you finally arrive at the parking lot, you start feeling better than just good, you feel great. Your worries that you had after the meeting melted away in the highway winds. You realize you have a soft spot for Santa Monica now. Yes it’s a shithole, but it’s a shithole where your new life began. The night patrols and the hookers, bums and party goers, Kindred and Kine enjoying the sunless hours. You like it here.

But when you kill the engine and get out of the car your mind turns to the shopping list. Maybe a bulletproof west, at least couple of guns and plenty of ammo. A knife of sorts won’t hurt either. You are really not sure what you are going to have to deal with when you arrive at the Grout mansion but what Gary said in the meeting does sit heavy in your mind. Weird noises, he said. Those type of noises are never good in your new life. Usually it’s violence and gore. You still remember that freak Gimble and it’s a lesson you learned the hard way.

As you start walking your heels make sharp clacking sounds on the concrete, making you feel empowered. You feel like you rule the night. And in a way you do. All vampires do, but tonight is your night. You don’t know why you feel so elevated. Was it the ride, the wind, or something else, you don’t know. Or maybe it was how Sebastian treated you before you left the Venture Tower. And maybe it’s all these things together. But you feel great and you feel like nothing can go wrong tonight.

First you head for Asylum. Maybe Mercurio will be there but if not – you know you can find a willing Blood Doll or two to quench the thirst you begin feeling. You met one particular girl there that has the most delectable blood you have tried so far, besides Sebastian’s of course, and you are eager to put your lips against her neck again. It’s so easy to seduce her too, she has no clue that you don’t really want to fuck her. You know that for humans the Kiss, as some vampires call it, feels like an orgasm, maybe even better. You can testify because when LaCroix takes your blood, it’s everything at that moment, everything you want or desire.

At the Asylum you chat up the bartender that you stayed on good terms with since you met him and he seems to be pleased to see you in better attire compared to what he saw you in the first time. You two joke about that, then he tells you where to find your Blood Doll. She’s standing by the bar, further from everyone, but when you approach she lights up. She’s eager to give you what you want and get what she wants in return.

You only need to remind her how much you want her and she becomes butter in your hansa. You lean closer, you sink your fangs in, she moans as she grasps at you with needy desperation, you drink. It feels good, it feels right. This is where you belong. And you fill yourself as much as you can stopping before her heart stops beating. Carefully you lead her to the second floor and sit her down on one of the seats. She’s dazed but smiling. You stroke her cheek and leave feeling powerful like never before.

When you step outside the Asylum you look around. Sure you could go to Mercurio or you could check out the haven for the mysterious loot you got the email for. You ponder for a moment, then two, then finally decide you will go to Mercurio just in case there’s nothing at the haven and you will be prepared if someone is going to try and harm you. Being careful never hurts and you went without a gun for long enough.

You take a walk, some men look in your direction, some cat-call you. You ignore them. You’re too good for them and you’re too full to want a taste of their blood. In short time you finally arrive at 24 Main Street and stop looking upon the main entrance. You smile to yourself, it brings back memories. Bloodied Mercurio and you – so fresh and clueless, even if it didn’t happen that long ago. He helped you out so you never told LaCroix about his fuck up with the astrolite. You need allies more than you need enemies or dead Ghouls. And Mercurio has been a stable contact to you in regards to merch he receives: hunting knifes, better lockpicks, general news on things happening in Santa Monica, guns. It was from him you heard that Therese is present and Jeanette is seemingly gone. But nobody knows that you have been there when it happened, that night when both sisters clashed inside one body. And you always preferred Camarilla loyal Therese over the Anarch Jeanette. You were happy to hear that your favorite sister won the inner fight.

With a small headshake you snap yourself out of your thoughts and head inside. When you’re at number 4, Mercurio’s suite, you knock and enter without waiting for him to let you in, he never told you that you should wait, but when the door opens you freeze. You see Sebastian on Mercurio’s couch, one leg resting on another in a manly fashion, one hand on his thigh while another is extended across the backrest of the couch.

“Sebastian? What the fuck are you doing here?” You ask, forgetting any formalities and he grins at you before you hear Mercurio’s actual gasp.

Your eyes turn to find him and you see him by a small personal mini bar, pouring himself an amber liquid, or he was, before you barged in and spoke like that to his Master. Mercurio’s face is pure shock and you look back at Sebastian.

“Is this a fucking set up?” You ask trying not overthink in these five seconds and LaCroix chuckles.

“Of course not. Can I not visit my Ghoul?” Prince slightly tilts his head to the side like he’s egging you to say something else, something stupid.

“What are you doing here?” Mercurio approaches, he seems nervous and immediately you realize that he probably didn’t tell Prince that he’s been selling you guns and info ever since you saved his ass in that astrolite situation.

“I came here to ask for a favor.” You reply, thinking fast. Sebastian lifts his eyebrow, his eyes are on you, studying your face. “I wanted to ask if you might’ve heard where Tung is now.” You say, making eye contact with LaCroix and Mercurio sighs just ever so slightly, he likes the lie.

“I can tell you all I heard later.” He says and he sounds like he’s urging you to leave but Prince obviously has other plans.

“Come, sit down with me.” He smirks and you frown at him, not moving. “Come, come.” He even pats the couch next to him and you silently swear under your breath then walk closer and sit down on the couch, but nowhere close to him.

You know this is a game, you just don’t know what LaCroix has in mind for the end of it.

“Right.” Mercurio is sweating, you can smell it before you see it on his face.

Yet Prince ignores him altogether.

“Tell me, did you enjoy the night ride?” He asks with a smile and you look him in the eyes again, but not before crossing your arms and legs to indicate that you’re not a willing participant in this.

“Got your servants to track me or did you hitch a ride underneath my car yourself?” You snap back and in your periphery you can see Mercurio’s eyes bulging out of their sockets. He most likely never heard anyone talk to his Master like this.

Yet Sebastian laughs, he seems to be in a good mood today, like you were before you saw him here. And you would be happy to see him if you weren’t here to do secret dealings with his Ghoul. Mercurio seems not to appreciate this encounter either. You see him sipping his drink more often compared to someone simply enjoying the drink.

“Maybe I did. And yet you didn’t notice.” LaCroix says with a smirk, looking only at you. What’s gotten into him? Is this some kind of power display? You cannot tell but decide not to play into it, just in case it’s some sort of test.

“I’m sure I’d smell your overpriced cologne a mile away.” You roll your eyes and it makes Sebastian chuckle again.

“Do you like it better when I smell like your perfume instead?” He asks, eyebrow lifted and you and Mercurio are both staring at him now. You open your mouth to speak but he looks at Mercurio with a smirk. “And that’s what I meant when I told you that some women, Kindred or not, can be easily guided through their own emotions.”

“What the fuck.” You breathe out, but Sebastian chooses to ignore you.

“Yeah… I can definitely see that.” Mercurio replies carefully, giving you a glance then looking back at his Master.

“Right. I think that concludes our meeting for today.” LaCroix stands up and straightens out his clothes, the golden ring on his finger seems weirdly bright in this room. “Come to Venture Tower when the time comes for the monthly… allowance.” He smirks but it’s somewhat predatory, fangs showing.

“I will.” Mercurio nods, basically bows to Sebastian, and he turns to you.

“And you, Fledgling, I’m sure you have a task to attend to, do you not?” He asks and you grit your teeth but nod.

“I’ll get to it soon, I need to take care of couple things first.”

“Don’t disappoint me.” Prince says and finally exits, without looking back.

When the door behind him closes you and Mercurio remain in silence, both of you hoping that Sebastian won’t return. And thankfully he doesn’t, you hear the front door open and close.

“Girl, what the fuck.” Mercurio exhales breathing heavily, he looks at you shocked.

“Sorry.” You sigh and shrug.

“Did you try to upset him on purpose? Fuck!” He walks back to the mini bar and pours himself another drink, a full glass of it, then he chugs basically half of it.

“No, Mercurio, listen.” You stand up and walk towards him. “You’re not going to get in trouble, alright?” you assure him and he looks at you, almost scared, and you know he’s scared to lose his blood supply. Ghouls are dependent like that.

“Are you sure?” He asks and you nod.

“Yes. LaCroix pisses me off often, I talk to him like that also often. I’m not dead yet, am I?” You gesture at your body and Mercurio naively looks you up and down like he’s looking for physical damage but he just sees the same suit you wore to the Primogen meeting.

“Well, you are kind of dead already.” He murmurs and you smile, finally relaxing. You clap him on his back with your palm and a grin.

“You know what I mean.” You say and lean closer to him. “Now, I’ve came here for some merch.”

Rest of your dealings with Mercurio go as usual. He shows you what he got and you stock up. You leave his place with a hefty duffle bag while thinking how can you strap all of this onto yourself before you leave for Grout mansion. You start heading for your car but then you remember the mysterious email. You still walk to your car and put the duffle bag away but you also take Colt with you, putting it inside your waistband at the small of your back and some extra ammo that you hide in your inner suit jacket pocket. Just in case.

It’s always just in case.

Then you walk back, towards your former haven. There’s nothing suspicious on your way there but you don’t relax just yet. You have been ambushed before. When you enter the building there’s nothing out of the ordinary there either. Finally you walk upstairs towards the apartment you lived in briefly and stop, listening in. No sounds are coming from inside so you fish out a key out of your pocket and unlock the door.

Or so you think.

The door is unlocked already and you just need to push it for it to open. It’s dark inside but curtains are open and only lights from neon signs are illuminating the shapes of the furniture. You step into the room and flip the light switch, then step back in shock, Sebastian is here, in the kitchen area, leaning against the countertop with his back, his hands in pockets, a smile on his face.

“Surprise.” He says and you frown then quickly step back inside and close the door behind you.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” You say and he shrugs.

“Not the welcome I expected for sure.” He replies, his smile dropping, disappearing. There are flashes of red in his eyes but you can’t tell if it’s from his inner emotions or from neon signs outside.

“You haven’t answered me.” You say as you cross your arms on your chest and he shrugs again.

“Maybe I wanted to have a chat with you while nobody is listening.”

“Did you really follow me?” You rise an eyebrow, but Prince ignores it because he reaches for the radio and presses the button, letting the music fill the apartment space, then hides the hand in his pocket again.

“What were you doing at Mercurio?” He finally asks and you stare him down.

“I told you what I was doing there. I’m looking for Tung.” You stick to your lie and Sebastian inspects your eyes.

“Don’t make me force you to tell me.” He threatens and now you wonder if he really was at Mercurio’s on accident, which would make sense why he’s so suspicious.

“You’re not going to hear a different answer even if you do.” You reply convincingly enough and it seems to work as LaCroix steps towards you, his hands still in his pockets.

“Then why are you here?” He asks, radio still blaring music, thankfully not too loud, and you pause thinking.

“Why are you here?” You reply and he gives an angry looking smirk.

“Because I thought you would be naïve enough to come here.” He says as he stops on front of you. So it was him who sent the message? You don’t know what’s going on anymore.

“Did you send the message?” You ask and get another smirk.

“No, but your email address is on my network, I can read all your messages.” He explains and you try your best to not show any shock or anger.

“Are you going through my emails?!” You ask louder than you want and he shrugs. Again.

“Just the ones my workers inform me about as curious. It’s the first time they informed about one of your emails.” Is he lying? You cannot tell. It sounds sincere enough, but you can’t be sure.

“I have no more information than you.” You state, defensively even, and Sebastian leans just a little closer.

“Oh I know.” He says, somehow there’s a threat in his voice and you find yourself getting turned on. He’s doing it to you again, being demanding, domineering, you find it hard to resist.

“Then what do you want from me?” You ask, trying to sound angry, it’s the only defense against him that you have left and you wonder how long it will take for him to dismantle it completely.

“I’m here to remind you who you are loyal to. I’m sure Strauss tried his best to make you forget it.” Prince says and grabs your arm. You try to resist him but he pulls you against his chest and you struggle in retaliation.

“Let go of me.” You grunt angrily, but he chuckles in response.

“Just earlier tonight you were all about getting some sweet favors from me, what happened?” He asks as he starts walking, guiding you to the desk that once held your shitty laptop on top of it while you step backwards.

“What happened?” You repeat trying to stop him, to stop yourself from walking but he’s stronger than you, taller than you. “You are following me, that’s what happened.” You reply defiantly but shut up the moment your ass bumps against the desk. Prince smirks.

“But I wasn’t. Besides this one email, I generally leave you to your own devices.” He says and with his palms on your hips he lifts you just enough to make you sit on the top of your former desk.

“Sebastian, what are you doing?” You ask as you grip his upper arms for balance, not being able to fight against his guidance, and he looks you in the eyes, smiling.

“As I said, just reminding you who you are loyal to.” He whispers and then he kisses you, harshly.

You feel his fangs grazing against your lips and you open them to let his tongue into your mouth. You manage a small moan as you still grip his arms when he steps closer, his need undeniable, his lips becoming warm. So that’s how it’s going to go. For a moment you focus to let Blush of Life turn you almost human again and the specter of sensations switch from pleasant to intoxicating. His tongue, his arms sliding down your legs, pulling you closer so that your crotch is against his, you actually feel him becoming hard. You blush because now you can, your body responding to Sebastian in all the right ways.

“Not here.” You whisper against his lips and he pulls back just enough to look you into your eyes.

“Why not?” hHe asks and you glance towards the windows, indicating what you mean. Prince smirks in return. “Nobody will see. And if they do – I hope they’ll enjoy the show.” he whispers and presses his lips against yours, not letting you argue. Your face gets redder at the thought of being seen, you’re not sure if you’re embarrassed or even more turned on by the idea, but you close your eyes losing yourself in the kiss.

Maybe he’s right, maybe nobody will see.

While Sebastian is kissing you his hands are getting busy. They move to your pants and work hard to undo them. Then with just one hand he lifts you off the desk, just enough to pull your pants down with his free one. Then suddenly stops when your gun clatters on the desk. He breaks the kiss and looks behind you then softly laughs.

“Did not expect that.” He admits and you smile, then grab the gun and push it to the side letting it slip off the edge and drop on the floor with a heavy thud.

“I don’t follow strange emails unless I’m armed.” You say and LaCroix nods, understanding, then presses his lips against yours again, quickly moving along, rushed his urges.

But your pants are around your knees and when he tugs at your panties you stop kissing him just for a second. His eyes open again and he looks at you, he doesn’t know why you stopped. And to be honest you are not sure either.

“You want this, don’t you.” It’s a statement not a question, so instead of answering you catch his lower lip between your teeth, then gently suck on it. Yes, you want this.

With that affirmation he pulls down your panties. Your heels slip off your feet and drop on the floor with another loud thud, your pants and panties follow with less noise. Sebastian kisses you eagerly again, and when his fangs again scrape against your lips, he makes you slightly bleed, but in response his tongue works to catch every bead of blood that emerges. You moan. It’s too much yet not enough, you find it hard to think, but thankfully you don’t have to.

When you’re back being seated at the edge of a desk, he moves one hand and you hear his belt buckle being messed with. You let him lead while you’re holding onto him, then you hear a sound of fabric being moved followed with a feel of heat from his hard cock as it presses against your inner thigh.

“Come here.” He whispers and you listen, angling your hips for him, your legs wrapping around each of his thighs and pushing him closer.

Your eyes meet and you feel his hand move between the two of you, grasping his cock then guiding it towards you. When you feel the tip of his dick touching your entrance, you bite your lip down, not breaking the eye contact. You want this so bad.

“Ask for it.” He suddenly whispers while beginning to slide the tip up and down against you but not pushing forward and you gasp in response. This teasing is too much, you have not expected this from him. The only time you had sex before he just took you, this is so different.

“Give it to me, Sebastian.” You whisper back and he smirks, his other hand resting on the small of your back, not letting you back away, but it’s not like you would even think of that, you need this.

“Beg for me to fuck you.” He whispers again, he’s vulgar and you find it incredibly hot. You swallow down a moan. Fuck, he really knows what turns you on even if you like to fight it.

“Maybe just-“ You start but he cuts you off.

“Beg for me to fuck you or I’m leaving.” He says harsher now, the tip of his dick teasing you just enough to leave you craving, badly.

“Please, fuck me.” You give in and he finally smirks.

“Excuse me, what was that?” He teases more and you bite your lip down, being held back by your reservations just for a moment longer before you tell him what he wants to hear.

“Please fuck me, my Prince.” You say, your tone is husky from desire and the grin on his face widens.

“As you wish.” He replies and without a warning eagerly thrusts inside of you, filling you deeply. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan loudly, your nails digging into his arms, tearing at the fabric of his expensive suit.

He starts moving, basically pounding into you, not giving you any time to adjust, and you hear the desk underneath you creak, you feel it slide and bump against the wall. He fucks you harshly, like he wants to get back at you for something, but you don’t know what it is and can’t figure out it either. You’re just happy that this is happening, because you thought it never will. You are simply filled with pleasure.

Then LaCroix makes you lean away from him. With his hand on your chest he makes you lean backwards until you lie down on the desk. He stops thrusting just long enough as he undoes your jacket and your shirt, exposing your bra. But that’s not enough. He harshly yanks the cups of your bra down, exposing your breasts. You hear a hitched breath he’s trying to hide at the sight of you, it’s clear on his face that he likes what he sees and you let him look; out of breath, your hair messy, your chest exposed and his dick inside of you. You know he’s loving the view. And he confirms this by slowly starting to thrust again, his hot palms move to your breasts massaging them. You moan and let your hands drop over your head then you close your eyes, you don’t want to interrupt him because you’re enjoying his touch too much. His fingers teasing your nipples, rubbing them, gently pinching them, it’s driving you crazy.

“Aren’t you just the best girl.” Sebastian grunts as he fucks you, his pace once more harsh and full of power as his palms slide down your naked sides and stop at your hips to keep you in place. “Tell me what I want to hear.” He demands, his voice is gruff, full of lust and you don’t hesitate.

“I’m yours.” You moan, not minding how loud you are. That seems to please the Prince.

“Louder.” He demands and you repeat yourself, louder, your eyes still closed, you just want that sweet satisfaction that he’s been working your body towards.

Then suddenly he stops. Confused you open your eyes and look at him, you were so close you’re practically aching.

“Promise me you’ll be mine.” He says in a very domineering way, looking at you with eyes that speak of possessiveness.

You lift yourself on your elbows first, then wrap your arms around his neck pulling yourself up to his face. You could promise anything to him right now, you just want to feel what you felt back in that tiny office.

“I’m yours.” You say and that seems to satisfy Sebastian because he starts thrusting again.

But you want more, more than just his dick inside of you, even though that does feel absolutely incredible. So you pull at his shirt collar and he lets you, he knows what you want, what you need. He smirks and you feel it against your face as you lean to his neck and unceremoniously sink your teeth into his skin. You moan as his blood seeps into your mouth, slides down your throat, it’s like velvet, the best drug there is. And he still is pounding you, harsher now, while grunting with pleasure too, the desk banging against the wall with a loud thud with his every stroke.

And finally it hits you, the pleasure, the orgasm. Blood in your mouth and Sebastian deep inside of you, the combination almost makes your mind blank out, the experience is like nothing you ever felt before. You moan, maybe even shout, you don’t know. You pull from his neck, unable to focus and feel his arms pressing you firmly against his body as he slowly comes to a stop. You know he reached his high as well. You are both out of breath, clinging to each other, sweaty in your fancy suits.

It takes a good moment for both of you to finally move and when you do, you look each other into the eyes again.

“I wasn’t here to spy on you, I didn’t follow you.” Sebastian whispers and this time you believe him.

“I know.” You say and he kisses you again, passionately, but the Blush of Life is fading in both of you as you got what you physically wanted.

After a moment the kiss slows down, turns into almost lazy making out instead of passion driven attack. And then LaCroix pulls back, you caress his cheek and his jawline as you look each other in the eyes once more.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.” He admits and you smirk to him.

“You told me so before, and yet here you are.”

“Indeed. I am.” He smiles in return but moves to step away from you and you let him.

He is obviously attracted to you in some way, either it’s blood, physical desire or just a simple want to control you and claim you. Which one it is – you don’t know, but you think on it as you both fix your clothes in silence.

You take longer to dress than LaCroix, first putting back on your panties, then pants, fixing your bra. When you start buttoning your shirt Prince steps closer and helps you out. You rise your eyes at him and you see that his expression is calm, concentrated on the task. Then he straightens out the lapels of your suit jacket and his eyes meet yours. You are stunned by this moment, it’s somewhat tender, somehow more intimate than the sex itself or the blood sharing.

“Looking presentable again.” He says with a small smirk curling one side of his lips.

“Thank you.” You murmur not knowing what else to say but then he goes a step further and brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You did well tonight. In the meeting.” LaCroix’s voice is low, almost a whisper and you nod.

“Thank you.” You say again, your mind is blank, it makes him chuckle.

“I better get going. Sheriff is waiting for me outside. My absence will be noticed if I don’t return Downtown soon.” He explains and for a second you wonder if Sheriff heard what just happened here, but you don’t have a chance to think of a logical answer when Sebastian’s fingers lift your chin to him. “Be good to me. And I’ll be good to you.” He whispers and your eyes widen, what does this mean? He doesn’t let you answer and plants a short, but quite firm kiss on your lips, then steps back, eyes you up and down and with a smirk on his lips again he pushes one hand into his pocket and leaves after flipping the radio off.

When the door closes behind him, you remain standing where he left you, stunned. Prince’s steps fade downstairs, you hear front door open and close. Silence follows. Finally you snap out of your stupor and look around, then put on your heels remembering the email. If it wasn’t Sebastian who wanted you here, then who? You pick up your gun from the floor and tuck it back against the small of your back and then finally you notice it, a box under your former bed where there shouldn’t be one. You kneel on one knee to get the box out and when you open it you find a katana in there.

“Is this… loot?” You whisper to yourself and your phone suddenly beeps. You take it out of your pocket and check the screen.

It is loot.

“What the fuck?!” You quickly stand up and look around, you feel like you’re being watched. Then another text message comes in. You look at it.

There are cameras. But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I did enjoy the peepshow tho.

“Pervert.” You say out loud but dread fills your dead veins. Someone saw you and Prince of LA be intimate tonight. It’s not good. Should you tell him? Most likely. But before you can do anything another text message comes in.

Even I need fun sometimes. Don’t worry, nothing was recorded.

You look around, finally noticing at least two cameras. Fuck. How did both of you miss them? This isn’t good at all.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” You ask in the silence of the room and after a short while a new text message comes in.

You’ll have to trust me. But I am watching you.

You decide to get some answers and look at one of the cameras.

“I got an email, being warned that I’m being watched. I presume that’s you?” You wait for another message and it comes after a short pause.

I sent you the message, there is someone else watching you.

“Who?” You ask getting pretty annoyed with the situation, this time the message takes some time to arrive but when it does you see it’s a longer one this time.

I can’t tell you, but make sure to be careful. I’m a friend, not an enemy. The sword is from me as a gift. When we meet one day – you will understand.

You reread the message multiple times, trying to think of all the Kindred and Kine that could actually be on your side no matter how unlikely, but you can’t think of anyone who would be this type of a person.

“Alright.” You finally say and then another text message comes in.

Don’t tell your lover about me. It’s better that way.

“Heh, lover. Sure.” You say more to yourself than to your anonymous so-called friend but then nod towards the camera. “I won’t. But you better not make me regret this decision.”

You hope for another message, a promise of sorts maybe, but nothing comes so you put your phone back in your pocket and look back to the box that has the katana still in it. You take it, weight it in your hand, it feels good and looks sharp but light enough not to hinder you. You don’t know why this stranger is helping you, what’s the end goal there, but you won’t refuse help since you can’t see any threat. Yet.

You put the katana back in the box and take it in your arms. Before you leave you give the apartment one more look-around, then switch the light off and exit, locking the door then leaving the building.

The night air still smells amazing and before you start heading for your car you stop and look back at the windows of your former haven, wondering if anyone saw you with Sebastian from the street and if they did – did they recognize either of you or not. With a small smile at the memory of his touch on your body, you turn and walk away, carrying the box with you.

Next – Alistair Grout’s mansion. You feel ready for whatever comes your way. You’re becoming stronger, smarter and faster. You can handle this. You are absolutely sure you can.

[blighted-elf]

Now that LA By Night has concluded, I thought I’d write about some of my personal headcanons for my Bloodlines protagonist, Ahnaki, who still resides in Los Angeles. I imagine she quietly helped out in the background during the show’s events.

A warning for spoilers below.

- She’d spend the next while searching for any remaining Camarilla and either run them out of the city or execute them without hesitation. She absolutely hated the truce and having to play nice, and is glad the sect is no longer welcome in the city. She would encourage Anarchs outside of LA to take back San Francisco and San Diego. - Staying off of her rather infamous social media for the time being, she’d try and learn more about the remaining Second Inquisition and work on re-directing their focus away from the city in a way that doesn’t throw any kindred (or other supernatural beings) under the bus. - Nines doesn’t ask anything of her as usual, but she offers help and support anyway. It’s usually in the form of information/reconnaissance, but a good, deep venting session is often more valuable. She continues to try and get him to loosen up and take nights off every now and then.  - Santa Monica is where most of the city’s Malkavians are, so she does anything to protect them, Jeanette especially. Resources, connections, mind, body, soul - she’d give it all for Santa Monica/the Voermans and that will never change. She spends most nights surrounded by her friends, just trying to forget how terrifying their reality is. - Ahnaki dislikes a lot of things Victor has done, but the two generally see eye-to-eye. He respects her reputation a lot, and she offers her information and blade if he should ever need it. I imagine he’d have a lot of Noddism related questions, and she’s happy to share her vast knowledge. She looks out for the Thinbloods in his domain as well, making sure no one fucks with them. - Her and Nelli have known each other for over a decade and they don’t generally get along, despite Isaac Abram’s insistence over the years. Ahni would keep an eye on Hollywood and be there should Nelli need help, but only because she believes Abram’s will return one day and would want to have it back in one piece. She is still very torn up over his Beckoning. - She’d continue spending a lot of time in the Warrens with Gary and his coterie as she always does, and keep bugging Mitnick for him and her to get SchreckNet back up and running.

- Given how many Dots she has in The Cobweb, Ahnaki would have felt it the second X went into torpor. She doesn’t question it, but reaches out to him through the network sometimes, even just to say “hey, miss you” or tell him funny stories. - Her and Jasper would exchange knowledge about various topics, as per usual. Because of her experience with the Society of Leopold and her studies on kindred, the two would try and figure out what Adrian’s blood did to X and see if it’s reversible. She would quickly notice how much more lonely Jasper is these nights, and try to invite him out to the Asylum even if he’s not very receptive.

- Because Eva totally survived whatever that last scene with her was (she just Earth Melded into the ground or something okay 😭), they would go back to their friendly relationship just like before the Camarilla came back. Ahni would freely offer blood for rituals as well as show her new occult books/artifacts she finds on her travels, and Eva would in turn offer to perform rituals. Although Ahni’s personal experiences with Strauss were positive and he was kind to her, she wouldn't hesitate to go after him if asked by Eva. She was horrified to hear how he treats the Tremere who disobey or try and leave the Pyramid. She absolutely has her back and has been ignoring Strauss’ formally written letters ever since. - Ahanki only recently got back from New York after helping the Anarchs over there, and thinks the change of city will be good for Annabelle. The two aren’t super close, but they’re good for sharing memes making fun of the old vamps. I imagine it’s a lot of Ahnaki saying “wow I actually taught Nines how to use an emoji tonight” or Annabelle saying “idk who D'Angelo is but he says you owe him money??”.

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday SlyCooperAndCarlosFox!

@slycooperandcarlosfox As per your previous request, here is a bit of the Ventrue!version of your OC Phillianne Tropy (who normally lives in the world of Ducktales) confronting one Therese Voerman over her use of a fake charity in her failed exhibition, because there’s few things that piss her off more. Hope you enjoy!

--

“So. I suppose the first question is – where do you get off?”

Therese Voerman looked up at the woman standing in front of her desk with a scowl. “Excuse me?”

“Where do you get off?” Phillianne repeated, arms crossed and eyes flinty. “I mean – how dare you?”

“How dare I what?” Therese replied, squinting at Phillianne over the top of her glasses. “If I’m to be accused of something, I’d like to know what it is.”

“The art exhibition at the Gallery Noir! The one that was supposed to be sending all the profits to  the ‘Light In The Darkness’ charity? For those suffering the ‘long dark night of the soul?’ You set that up, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Therese confirmed, leaning back in her chair. “It was supposed to be a lovely evening for all the best of the best of Santa Monica. Supporting a very worthy cause.�� Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I sabotaged my own showing, do you? Is that why you asked for this meeting?”

“No, I know you weren’t behind the slashings,” Phillianne said, shaking her head. She bent over the desk to meet Therese’s gaze head-on. “But I also know that your sister let it slip that the exhibition was not actually for charity. That all that money was going straight into your pocket.”

Therese’s eye twitched. “Jeannette,” she hissed. Then she composed herself, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry you’ve been exposed to such scandalous rumors. But you must understand, Miss Tropy, that my sister is willing to say just about anything to make me look bad.”

“Perhaps so, but I’ve done my digging. ‘Light In The Darkness’ didn’t exist until four months ago, and it barely exists now. It’s essentially some fancy letterhead for the ‘Janus Foundation’ – and the only people associated with that are you, your sister, and an accountant. Who was very, very cagey when I called the phone number associated with it.”

Therese sighed. “All right, fine,” she admitted, crossing her legs. “My charitable leanings were as made up as Jeannette’s face. But I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. How does any of this hurt you? You weren’t even in town when the exhibition was supposed to take place.”

“This isn’t about me,” Phillianne growled out through gritted teeth. “This is about all the legitimate charities that might have missed out on a donation because people decided to give to yours. This is about all the good that money might have done but will never be accomplished now. This is about innocent children going hungry, innocent people having to sleep another night on the street, innocent kine everywhere suffering just that bit more because the money that could have helped them went into your pocket.”

“Alice’s pocket, I think you’ll find,” Therese replied crisply.

“Given that she first refused until Jeannette told her it was dirty money, then had to fight that horrific blood demon you had set up to kill any potential vandals, I’m willing to give her a pass,” Phillianne spat back. “Not to mention, thanks to what passes for pay in the Camarilla, she’s basically one of those people who could use some charity!” She stood up straight, raking her fingers through her hair. “You know, in my domain, if something like this happened, it would be the petty scheme of a known idiot and wanna-be supervillain who already gets his ass kicked on a regular basis by me, my girlfriend, and his less-of-an-asshole biggest rival. It disgusts me that you could sink so low.”

“I’m just doing what any other Kindred in my situation might reasonably choose to do,” Therese argued, fingers clenched on her desk. “The Asylum’s upkeep gets more expensive by the year, and when it doesn’t generate enough income to pay its own bills – one has to find other ways to make money.” She smoothed some hair back into place in her bun. “And it’s not like you can do anything about it, you know. You’re a visitor here, and Santa Monica is my domain. Backed up by Prince LaCroix and the Anarchs.” She smirked. “Are you really willing to risk violating Elysium by attacking me?”

“No, but I can at least mitigate the damage,” Phillianne snapped. “I’ve already checked the value of your paintings, and I’m spreading that amount out over my own favorite charities.” She leaned in again, face uncharacteristically hard. “And speaking of domains – don’t consider yourself welcome in mine anytime soon. You venture into my city, and you’ll see what Zan and I are capable of.”

With that, she turned on her heel and stalked out the door. Therese watched her go, then glared at her reflection on the darkened computer screen. “You and your loose lips!”

“None looser,” Jeannette tittered. “Your own fault for not getting the cash box out of there sooner. I couldn’t have told Alice to steal it if it wasn’t there!”

“Perhaps, but still.” Therese glanced back at the door. “I feel like you’ve made me a powerful enemy.”

“If it helps, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t actually like me either?”

“. . .it does a bit, thank you.”

[robotslenderman]

Rough LA Territories Map

With a LOT of caveats. Please read stuff below the map before you think this is accurate at all, because it's almost certainly not.

The caveats:

I haven't watched LA by Night lol

I am not an LA native, and this is almost certainly bullshit simply because of that. LA natives would be more aware of the places that are most likely to be borders. If anyone here knows LA well and has input, please give it.

Especially Nines' territory. I don't know what counts as "East Los Angeles" and "Downtown". I've only been to LA once and it was for a few days. Nines' in particular is VERY rough.

This map assumes a baron is considered the baron of X if most of their territory covers X, but might also have territory outside of it. For example, when drawing in al-Muthlim's territory as baron of Inglewood, I noticed there was a gap between his and Therese's territory, so I gave that bit to al-Muthlim because it was small enough I figured it'd belong to him anyway. It may actually belong to a smaller baron.

This map also assumes that Kindred territory lines are not strictly in line with human territory (county? I'm not American) lines. Amethyst might be the Baron of Anaheim and Santa Ana, but I drew her territory to end at major roads because I figure major roads being the edge of people's territory makes it easier on other Kindred to be aware of who controls what area, even if those bits aren't technically part of Santa Ana/Anaheim.

(It also assumes Amethyst kept Santa Ana when she expanded to Anaheim. Santa Ana may belong to someone else now.)

From this map there's a bunch of territories curling around territory (Culver City) whose baron, to my knowledge, is unknown. Either all the borders actually extend in there and that area is divided up between the five Kindred surrounding it, or there's a baron holding that area that we don't know about. Since the major roads go around it, my assumption is the latter.

I couldn't find the exact area of the Valley with a quick google search (I'm sure the info is THERE, but I'm lazy) so I don't know if the Valley is actually off the top left corner or if it's actually part of this picture and I didn't realise it lol

Last caveat --

This map is very, very rough. For the most part, I am not suggesting that territories end at very specific streets (especially not Nines's, where I just went "fuck it"). I don't have enough knowledge of LA to speculate where EXACTLY certain territories begin and end. So this is a rough guide only, just to help me, personally, keep in mind where my players go and who is probably in charge of that area when they go there.

I would be really appreciative if anyone with more knowledge of LAbN and LA itself would pitch in, or submit their own map!

Further notes:

I presume the Asylum in Santa Monica is Therese's Elysium.

The Getty is the Elysium of Prince Thomas, to my knowledge.

The Tremere Chantry is located in Anarch territory, specifically Nines's

With all of the above in mind, and keeping in mind that Therese was the Malkavian Primogen -- it looks like Princes/Barons of one area can serve as Primogens in a nearby area, despite having their own territory and perhaps having a Primogen council of their own. (Although I imagine they might not have their own council -- VTMNR never mentioned Prince Kaminsky having a Primogen Council and he had an entire city in his domain.) Just a bit of interesting trivia!

[vitosscaletta]

🍓 🍓 🍓🍓🍓🍓 for ALL your vampire kids! 🦇

AIRIKA..TY FOR MY LIFE! ok this is gonna be long 

CHRISTIAN

🍓 — he’s over 300 years old (that technically makes him an elder according to the lore book… overpowered king) & was embraced in the 1600s, he was the son of a french marquis back in the day 😳 He lived in Versailles for a long time & considered it his home even though people would literally shit in the corners there -_-

🍓 — has NO idea how technology works… he has one of those ugly early 2000s flip phones because he saw other people having those but has absolutely no idea how to use them, much less a computer. Most people just think he’s ~romantic or something for writing letters but he really has no idea how to write an email :(

🍓 — He’s the baron of Bel Air.. has a nice mansion there bc living for over 300 years gives you time to hoard that much money ig. 

🍓 — His grand-sire (??) is Helen of Troy 😳 overpowered af bloodline

🍓 — He doesn’t care about vampire politics in the slightest and is sort of aligned with the camarilla bc he has power within them but there’s no loyalty or conviction.. the main reason he’s in it is to start drama and watch it unfold 💅 He and La🥐 can’t stand each other but also can’t do anything about it… Strauss is okay with him but they’d also sell each other out for one corn chip.. He’s sort of frenemies with Gary, they hate each other because… yknow toreador and nosferatu but they’re equally shady so there’s mutual respect… in an odd way 

🍓 — He doesn’t have any other childe..r… whatever the term is except miss Helena.. he hangs around humans a lot but has no real attachment to them (except being kind of a hoe and.. yknow.). She’s the first mortal in a long time he felt anything for which was mostly just good old toreador obsession but he thought it was love.. she vaguely resembled a lost love of his. and had potential I guess so he actually got permission for embracing her babey… just not from her bc he didn’t even consider someone wouldn’t want to be a vampire.. 🙄

HELENA

🍓 — Having OP Christian as her sire did have its perks even though she hates his guts for embracing her… She automatically had a pretty good position within the camarilla through connection alone :^) she works as sort of an informant/spy for the prince directly.. which puts her at odds with a bunch of people - they either think she’s an inexperienced little girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing and works for an incompetent prince OR hate her for being in his sort of inner circle without having to work for it (like Victoria. she thinks that)

🍓 — CRINGE but it be like that sometimes… she’s descended from a looong line of vampire/witch hunters on her dad’s side - he’s from a catholic german family who was largely involved with the society of Leopold. Michael himself wasn’t overly religious (still studied theology but didn’t actually care) and left all of this behind when he moved to america & got married but after he and Jenny divorced he was like “know what… time to become a zealot again”. His ex-wife and daughters are completely unaware of that of course 😳 dunno if Helena sees him again after becoming a vampire 🙄 but yknow.

🍓 — Doesn’t have any of the “vampires are better than mortals” superiority complex that a lot of the others seem to have.. does think thin-bloods are losers though kjdkjdfnms

🍓 — Only video game she plays is the sims!! she bought ts1 when it came out for fun and got hooked.. ts2 is even better!!!!! first thing she did was make a sim that resembles her and marries a business tycoon 💅💸

🍓 — owned one (1) YSL dress she bought from her savings (which was USED)  but she couldn’t afford anything else so she just wears it with something she found at hot topic every time she goes out with her rich fake friends pre embrace. When she works for La🤡 and actually makes some money she can afford a SECOND dress babey! with shoes!!!

🍓 — She’s actually really into some standard 2004 radio pop songs but also emo songs at the same time.. except the genre didn’t have anything good in 2004 except three cheers for sweet revenge (she’s also really into evanescence, green day and blink 182 which isn’t really emo but it was still part of the experience™ nfdkjdf) - which is also her entire aesthetic summed up, emo meets theatre kid prep.. Helena: *googles “how to look like Gerard Way and Britney Spears at the same time makeup tutorial”*

ERIN

🍓 — sdjhsdh cringe but she’s always been kind of a weirdo but was pretty good at hiding it/acting normal & was part if the prep gang in her high school days (not the leader, more the kind of the replaceable third wheel), she always preferred hanging out with the weirdos though. Post-embrace everyone just thinks “lol crazy malkavian” so she’s just like 🤷‍♀️.. 

🍓 — Her sire, Ray, was suuuch a freak but she liked him because he was something.. different in her sheltered, dull life and made her feel excitement she hasn’t felt in a long time. He bails on her after embracing her bc he sired her without permission & fears execution (even though literally no one cares or even knows he sired someone) but has letters delivered to her from time to time instructing her what to do lol

🍓 — Actually enjoys the freedom vampirism gives her? She’s officially dead so she has the option to start again and be whoever she wants to be… it’s scary at first bc she has no idea what’s going on and where these voices come from but she gets used to it, also the voice of her late grandmother in her head is a comforting presence for her… I imagine she’s actually in there kinda like the heart in dishonored, afterlife isn’t her granddaughter’s mind but it’s sort of an echo of her? IDK she tinkered with magic in life so supernatural schizophrenia added that to Erin’s mind.

🍓 — She loves early 2000′s radio pop (yknow.. Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Kelly Clarkson… etc) but also classical music, stuff from the 20′s, alternative rock, the early 2000s goth music that’s playing in L.A.’s nightclubs …. she’s gonna thrive in 2006 when a fever you can’t sweat out drops!!!

🍓 — She’s part of the anarchs but mostly hangs out in hollywood or downtown (only goes to santa monica to visit the asylum (BEST nightclub ever in her onion. isolated SLAPS)

🍓 — yknow in the 2000s when people had invader zim merch from hot topic.. she owns this backpack 🤦‍♀️ it clashes with the rest of her style which is already a horrendous mix of victorian/early 20th century gothic and 2004 prep style 

VICTORIA  

🍓 — her background is still a BIG wip but she was born at some point in the late twenties/early thirties and embraced in 1954 :^) she was a bit of a workaholic and had an intense work ethic but never made it far within the company she was working for because it’s the fifties (thinking maybe it was her father’s company bc she was RICH.. there was a feud between her & a few male relatives on who’s gonna lead or something)… She was eventually noticed by a ventrue businessman who thought her ambition and no-nonsense attitude would be a great addition to the clan - She was promised a opportunity to rise within a different society without le sexism. Go white feminist queen!

🍓 — her embrace wasn’t really what she thought it would be.. drinking other’s blood REPULSES her and she has a hard time adjusting to it, plus kindred society isn’t really what she imagined - by the time she’s embraced L.A. has no camarilla presence so there’s really nothing for her to do so she moves to New York to join them there.. except she’s stuck with a shitty job and no one taking her seriously because of her age 😒 When they establish a presence in Los Angeles she’s the first to suck up to the prince & be assigned a somewhat high position (I guess adviser to the ventrue primogen and also being tight with the prince is good!!)

🍓 — She dresses very business-y BUT always designer bc she got money 😳 her wardrobe is chic but also minimalist, also with a hint of fifties design because fashion peaked then in her opinion.. mostly in dark colors, reds, browns and mostly black combined with minimal jewelry and high heels… very very elegant

🍓 — genuinely loves romcoms from the 50s and 60s (doris day & rock hudson movies b*tch!!) but also “newer” one from the 90s and 2000′s.. notting hill, pretty woman and 13 going on 30 are her favorites that she watches when she’s off duty, cozy in her downtown apartment.. but don’t tell anyone 😤

🍓 — She’s THE queen bee within the L.A. camarilla… doesn’t have any friends in her workplace but she’s respected by everyone and that’s what matters to her (it does get lonely sometimes but it be like that. She’s not gonna give up her status for shallow friendships 😒)

🍓 — loves those ugly small 90s/2000s glasses but they clash with every outfit she has so she doesn’t wear them

[maplecity5-blog]

Trump Advisor Stephen Miller Has Always Been This Way

Stephen Miller, senior advisor to Donald Trump, and architect of some of his most controversial policies, was born in Santa Monica and attended Franklin Elementary School, Lincoln Middle School, and Santa Monica High, aka SAMOHI. The 33-year-old was bar mitzvahed at Beth Shir Shalom and confirmed at the Santa Monica Synagogue. To understand how one of the country’s most liberal communities could have spawned the ultra-right-wing Miller, I asked as many people who knew him growing up as I could find for their memories of his formative years. Many said no or didn’t respond—most notably, the teachers and administrators at SAMOHI, from which he graduated in 2003 (I did, however, speak with two school board members). Miller, described by one of his Hebrew-school instructors as a born oppositionist, repeatedly challenged those administrators and tested the limits of their beliefs.

Some wonder how it was that Santa Monica produced Miller; to others his provenance makes perfect sense.

Fifty-plus former classmates turned down my interview requests, whether out of respect, fear, or distrust of media I have no way of knowing. But I spoke to 20 people, not all of whom are quoted here, who attended school or temple with Miller, who argued with him, who puzzled over him, and who watched with a sense of surreal recognition as he ascended to the White House and made himself instrumental in defining this administration’s unsparing stance toward immigrants and asylum seekers—positions so extreme that his own uncle and former rabbi have publicly criticized him. Some wonder how it was that Santa Monica produced Miller; to others his provenance makes perfect sense.

Born in 1985, Stephen is the middle child of Michael and Miriam, who, if they were once liberal, as has been reported, have not been so for well over a decade. The Millers manage a real-estate investment company and own and operate a handful of commercial properties as well as about 2,500 residential units under the name California Villages. As one family friend told me, Stephen pulled his parents to the right. The Millers supported Ted Cruz for president; they attended the 2016 Republican convention and were thrilled that their son—who was previously communications director to then-senator Jeff Sessions—wrote Trump’s acceptance speech. Friends say they were supportive parents to all three of their children. Their daughter, Alexis Miller Buese, is a partner at a Century City law firm, and their younger son, Jacob, is a litigator in Manhattan. Here’s what some others remember about Miller’s formative years.

Jenness Hartley

Samohi Class of 2004, Special Education Teacher and Organic Farmer

>I was friends with Stephen’s best friend, Chris Moritz, who is funny and charming, and from middle school on they were inseparable. They dressed identically, first in khakis, polo shirts, and clunky white tennis shoes, and, later, in suits. They were the only two dressing like that. Stephen never hung out with women, though I do remember having a great time with him at an eighth-grade barbecue, where he was entertaining and irreverent and said things that were entirely out of left field.

Larry Elder

Attorney and Radio Personality

>Chris Moritz was the one who introduced Stephen to conservatism. Stephen was a Santa Monica Jewish liberal just like his mom and dad. And Chris introduced him to works by Thomas Sowell and Milton Friedman.

Hartley 

>At our high school, half the graduating class went on to Ivy League colleges and the other half did not. SAMOHI was very open about actively trying to help minorities get into college, and it set up a Hispanic club for that purpose. Stephen deeply hated this club, and he saw its members as militants who did not want to be part of the English-speaking world and as threats to America. He also said that minorities are too busy complaining to succeed and that Hispanics are overrepresented in Congress. At the time there was no Google, so we couldn’t check his stats.

“I obviously loathe what he said, but I also have to applaud him for owning it.” —Kesha Ram

Kesha Ram 

Samohi Class of 2003, Former Vermont State Legislator, Elected at age 22

>The nicest thing I can say about him is that he stared the future of the country—with all its diversity and glorious richness—in the face and rejected it openly. Some people hide behind a computer screen and say horrible things about other cultures and other identities, but he looked people in the eye and said, “I don’t think you should be in this country; I think your family should go back to wherever they came from or speak English more fluently.” I obviously loathe what he said, but I also have to applaud him for owning it.

Ari Rosmarin

Samohi Class of 2002, Deputy Director of the ACLU Campaign for Justice 

>I remember one time Stephen protested a grade he got. He claimed the teacher was against him for his political views, and he wrote a piece about it. I thought, “Who is this crazy guy?” When I started paying attention I saw that he was very deliberate and strategic, attuned to the contemporary media environment and to what he could say that would be sure to inflame.

Justin Brownstone 

Samohi Class of 2002, Attorney 

>In my senior year the school district held a multi-day community meeting and, for some reason, Stephen Miller was there. People were describing their experiences, how hard it is to be an immigrant. And Stephen stood up and said, “Well, my grandparents were immigrants and they got no help and they became wealthy, so there is no reason for any immigrant to complain.” He added nothing constructive. It seemed like he wanted people to hate him.

Julia Brownley 

United States Congresswoman 

>I was the school board president at the time. We were very focused on the achievement gaps in Santa Monica—it was a great district for high achievers, but minorities were not doing well. So we wanted to focus on students who were underperforming. We instituted a couple of bilingual schools, all kinds of things. Stephen would come to school board meetings and testify. Whatever we were for, he was against—against bilingual education and any assistance to English-language learners. You’ve seen the recording of the speech he gave when he was running for office at SAMOHI—he said the students shouldn’t pick up their own trash; that’s why we have janitors. His politics have been consistent since then.

Illustration by Delphine Lee

Elder

>He was, I think, 14 years old [Editor’s note: Miller was 16] when he wrote to me about an issue that was concerning him at his school. Turns out they weren’t reciting the Pledge of Allegiance and raising the flag every day as is required by the California Education Code. Stephen made a lot of noise, but the administration wasn’t particularly concerned about it, and I thought it was an interesting issue. I had him on my show to discuss it. And he was so funny and so bright and so insightful that we ended up friends. He came on my show 69 times, and the reason I know that is because he counted.

Ram

>Stephen made some statements that there’s literally no way you can walk back from. For instance, his speech that we shouldn’t have to pick up our trash because that’s what janitors are for, which came on top of other statements he had made privately about kids whose parents were only fit to be janitors.

Oscar De La Torre

Santa Monica-Malibu School District Board Member 

>When he gave the janitor speech, I thought, “This is coming out of a sweat gland; this is who he is.” I tried to argue with him at a school board meeting, I said, “Mexican Americans are Americans, are they not?” or “Racism exists.” He was not interested in listening to anybody. He would never acknowledge a point. He responded: “Incorrect” or “That’s not true.”

David Horowitz

Founder and President of the David Horowitz Freedom Center, a Conservative Foundation 

>Maybe I heard him on The Larry Elder Show, but I became aware that this high school kid was fighting a battle for the Pledge of Allegiance after 9/11. At least one teacher had laid the American flag on the floor so that the kids coming into his class had to walk on it. I spent many years on the left, so I know there’s a lot of anti-American feeling there.

I contacted Stephen, and he came over to my house. We had an affinity since I came from a left-wing family; his family was pretty much the same thing. He was obviously an incredibly smart guy, articulate and confident. I had great respect for him because he had courage. At Santa Monica High he was like Gary Cooper in High Noon; he stood alone.

He understood immigration and respect for the flag. He had a core connection with his principles—that we should have borders, that people should be judged on their merits without regard to race, creed, or color. Today’s identity politics ensure that the first thing you judge about a person is their race, gender, or sexual orientation. Politics has gotten so ugly; it’s not fun anymore. You can’t have a conversation.

“When he gave the janitor speech, I thought, ‘This is coming out of a sweat gland; this is who he is.'” —Oscar De La Torre

Hartley

>I pitched the idea to the audiovisual club that we should do a documentary about Stephen Miller because he was such an outlier. My pitch was accepted, and Rachel Greenberg filmed it.

Rachel Greenberg

Samohi Class of 2003, Photographer and Web Designer 

>Stephen’s mom did not want us to show the video. Right when everything was edited and ready to be turned in for a final grade, Miller no longer wanted to be in it. And he had the right to insist because, as novices, we had forgotten to get a release form from him. I think that his mom was embarrassed at what she saw, and she didn’t want it to affect his future career.

Hartley

>Stephen and I had the same history teacher, Mr. Megaffin, though in different periods. After 9/11, when everyone was putting up flags, Mr. Megaffin lead a discussion about patriotism and symbolism. He put the flag on the floor and asked us, “What does the flag mean now?” It was a lesson to help us understand our feelings about patriotism. Stephen spoke about it on Larry Elder, saying that the teacher threw the flag across the floor and disrespected the flag. The teacher was in fact respectful and did not invite students to step on the flag.

The local newspapers did articles about Stephen, and he was flush with success—you could see the mirth in his eyes. I asked him, “Why didn’t you say that the flag incident was a teaching lesson?” He answered, “The truth doesn’t matter; it’s about what people want to hear.” I remember that very clearly.

Miller in 2002

Seth Poppel/Yearbook Library

Adrian Karimi

Samohi Class of 2003, Attorney

>Mr. Megaffin was a very credible and respectful teacher. He never raised his voice; he always had a calm demeanor. He was asking, “Where do you draw the line between protecting the flag and protecting free speech?” He did not drag the flag on the floor, and he did not invite people to step on it. He may have raised a hypothetical—what if someone dragged it across the floor or stepped on it, how would you feel?

Elder

>I was invited to speak at SAMOHI because of Stephen, and that turned out to be an issue because the principal wanted my appearance to be “offset” by a liberal speaker so that the kids would have a fair and balanced point of view. Yet they don’t require left-wing speakers to be balanced by conservative speakers. I brought that up to the principal, and she didn’t have a real good answer for it, which Steve thought was entertaining.

Horowitz

>It took six or nine months to get me invited to speak at the school; they didn’t want me to come. When I was a radical in the ’60s, I always wanted to hear what the other side had to say. I thought it would make me a better radical. But today’s left doesn’t want to hear anything. I think it’s a terrible thing for our country and for their cause.

Hartley

>Ralph Fertig, one of the Freedom Riders who protested Jim Crow laws in the South, came to talk to our class. He was this white, Jewish guy who got arrested in Selma, Alabama, for disturbing the peace while trying to integrate the bus system, and the sheriff there allowed vigilantes to beat him almost to death. It was the jail’s black janitor who saved his life. The only thing Stephen could focus on was that Fertig had broken the law; he asked him, “How do you feel comfortable with breaking the law?” Fertig answered that the law isn’t always just, but Stephen kept obsessing on this point over and over.

Ram

>The biggest argument he and I ever had was about whether climate change was man-made or caused by volcanoes. I think at the time one of the European volcanoes had erupted, and people were commenting on the particulate matter it had put in the air. He lived in a fact-free and cherry-picked-data universe.

Elder

>Stephen was curious. He wanted to know the truth; he was logical; he was reasonable; he felt the Constitution restrained the government and that people on the left don’t understand the importance of a restrained government. He had a deep and concrete understanding of the values and the constitutional principles that are the basis of our country to a degree that I’ve never seen in somebody that young.

At the same time, he thrived on being the opposition; he enjoyed the jousting; he felt that most people on the left come armed with emotion and not with facts, and so he felt comfortable about debating and confronting people who felt differently. He did this in an intelligent, often humorous way without anger.

I asked him, “Why didn’t you say that the flag incident was a teaching lesson?” He answered, “The truth doesn’t matter; it’s about what people want to hear.” —Jeness Hartley

Ram

>Stephen started to feel more conviction when he saw blind spots in the arguments that liberals were making. Santa Monica is a complicated place. It has huge wealth disparities. It is not on the front lines of building affordable housing. My Indian immigrant father and Jewish American mother ran an Irish pub at 26th and Wilshire, and they fought the city a lot. My dad tried to create a recycling program, and the city considered that a nuisance and a hazard at the time; it did not want to recycle. There were other hypocrisies that my father tried to point out to the community.

If you’re at a school where there’s a strong prevailing opinion, and you feel like people aren’t fully examining their own biases and hypocrisies, then you start to retrench even more and feel morally and intellectually superior because you’re seeing a groupthink mentality on the other side.

Natalie Flores

Samohi Class of 2003, Teachers’ Educator

>Stephen was a quiet, shy kid in middle school, and when he started being political he got attention, which he obviously liked. I think he began to believe his own rhetoric after a while. By the time Stephen gave that janitor speech in junior year, he was full-blown “this is the world I live in, it’s the Stephen Miller show, and you just happen to be here.”

Ram

>Even if he started out wanting attention and to shock people, I think he came to believe what he espoused, whether at that time or later in life. I can’t believe that he would play with people’s lives at this point simply for the ability to be a well-known person.

Flores

>At SAMOHI we always erred on the side of hearing other people’s opinions, should it not put anyone else in danger or put anyone down. So the way that Stephen got concessions was essentially to victimize himself. He said he felt excluded from our diversity festival, which is when everyone brought a plate of food from their culture. He made it about him and said, “What about my culture?” We all answered, “What about your culture? We live it every day.”

He said to a couple of people, “This is America, speak English only,” and the second someone would retaliate, either physically or vocally, he would run to an administrator and say that he was the one being bullied.

Brownstone

>No one that I saw was ever unkind to him. No one beat him up. He was the least victimized person, and yet somehow in his mind he was constantly put upon.

Ram

>He really, really disliked the school newspaper. We were at a liberal school, and it was usually the liberal students who cared enough to run the newspaper. He was one of the only people you could go to for a conservative opinion. That he saw himself as a victim of a liberal conspiracy was, in my view, disproportionate to the reality.

Miller at Mar a Lago in April

Joe Raedle/Getty Images

Rosmarin

>He’s exactly the same as he was in high school—his manner of speaking, his permanent air of trolling. He has a drive for pissing off people. It’s a strange way to go about life, especially in high school.

I was the editor of the school newspaper, and he loved to come to the office to argue with us. It was always like, “Who’s going to go out and deal with Stephen?” It was an annoyance. You could see he loved the thrust and parry.

I had written an op-ed in the paper that was an open letter to drivers of SUVs, and I put flyers on the windows of SUVs that had American flags displayed somewhere on them. The flyers and the op-ed said, “If you’re really so patriotic, stop increasing our dependence on foreign oil.” Stephen was deeply offended by this attack on SUV drivers. One day, after a pep rally was dispersing, I was standing on a step in this huge auditorium, and he comes bounding up to me, saying, “I drive an SUV and I’m patriotic.” Then he opened up his shirt and pointed to what he was wearing underneath—a T-shirt displaying the American flag. This all happened very fast; there were no pauses. I thought, “Who is this for, this whole production? Was it for me, for himself, for the students standing around and watching?” Ultimately it was genuine in the sense that he committed to it, but it was not authentic.

Brownstone

>He never went to parties, didn’t express any interest in dating. He was a virtual loner obsessed with gun rights at age 17, which was scary.

Ram

>I think it’s a testament to our school that it created a space for people to feel heard and to exercise their free speech. And I don’t think we should be dismissive of Stephen; he is making a lot of policy in the White House. It’s still a problem on the left that we would rather marginalize and minimize his belief system than try to understand it, which would help us to be more thoughtful in our response.

If we write everyone off who is part of the alt-right as a sociopath, then we’ll probably miss something really critical in our effort to stop it. We should make sure that we are offering a great alternative to that way of thinking. It’s much too easy for us to stay stuck in a sensationalized and polarized fight than to do the hard work of adding value and closing the wealth gap and focusing on representing everyone well. Building a platform on hatred and division is dangerous, but the bigger question is, “Why is it working?”

RELATED: How to Make Sure You Definitely Vote in November

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Source: https://www.lamag.com/citythinkblog/stephen-miller-samohi-oral-history/

[racingtoaredlight]

Opening Bell: February 15, 2019

Yesterday, less than 48 hours after congressional negotiators reached agreement on a spending bill to keep the government open past the Friday night deadline, the GOP-controlled Senate followed by the Democrat led House of Representatives overwhelmingly approved the spending bill, sending it to the Oval Office for the signature of President Donald Trump. Trump expressed dissatisfaction with the deal—which includes funding for increased border security and 55 miles of barriers, though not a concrete wall—but, after discussions with Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) and Appropriations Committee Chair Richard Shelby (R-Ala.), the president was apparently persuaded that failing to sign the bill and subsequent government shutdown would lead to Republicans receiving the brunt of the blame once again, the president signaled he would sign the spending measure. Trump, however, simultaneously indicated that he would go ahead with a national emergency declaration and use that declaration to take money already appropriate to the executive branch for other purposes and use it fund a permanent wall, using the military to construct it if necessary. Late Thursday, Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif) indicated that the House would vote to disapprove of the president’s declaration and, if the White House did not relent, lawsuits—lots of them—would follow. As has been widely predicted ever since the White House first floated the idea of an emergency declaration, the lawfulness of such a move has been widely panned and the outcome of is likely to be decided in a federal court, meaning actual construct of a border wall remains as remote as ever.

Earlier in the afternoon, the Senate, as expected confirmed William Barr as the next Attorney General, for the second time. Barr had the support of every Republican except one—Sen. Rand Paul (R-KY)—while three Democrats—Sens. Doug Jones (D-Ala), Joe Manchin (D-WV), and Kyrsten Sinema (D-Ariz.)—crossed the aisle and voted for Barr. Barr is considered a fairly doctrinaire establishment conservative who is a strong believer in the Justice Department as an institution. But, while Barr has indicated he would not interfere with the probe of Special Counsel Robert Mueller, he also stated that he would not unreservedly release to the public the entirety of any report submitted to the Department by Mueller. Barr’s predecessor, Jeff Sessions, was a firm political supporter of Donald Trump, but Trump was angered by Sessions, acting on legal principle, recused himself from overseeing the Mueller investigation and consequently Sessions found himself an outsider in the administration and his department a constant target of political attacks by the White House. Barr has said he sees no need to recuse himself as Sessions did, and Barr may experience a honeymoon period in which he escapes any criticism by Trump, but this may be as much because Trump, who has gone through cabinet heads faster than almost any modern administration, really cannot afford to publicly alienate another attorney general so soon after his confirmation, especially with the 2020 election cycle about to get under way in earnest. On the other hand, Richard Nixon went through four attorneys general—John Mitchell, Richard Kleindienst, Eliot Richardson, and William Saxbe—between January 1969 and January 1974, and Trump is among the most unpredictable occupants of the Oval Office in American history.

Several months ago, tech giant Amazon announced that it would build its second headquarters and divide it between two different locations on the east coast: Long Island City, New York and northern Virginia. Both municipalities had coaxed Amazon to build their headquarters buildings with huge financial incentive packages, including massive tax relief packages. The plan, and the incentive packages put forth, were both widely criticized across the nation, with local outrage in New York City being especially strong, despite the project—or perhaps, in some ways, because of—the support of Gov. Andrew Cuomo and Mayor Bill de Blasio. A few days ago, Amazon CEO and founder Jeff Bezos announced that he was considering pulling out of the New York location, due to the local resistance. Yesterday, Bezos confirmed that decision by officially announcing the Amazon would no longer pursue a corporate headquarters in New York, but would instead focus on northern Virginia, while also going ahead with expansion projects in Nashville. This was a major public reversal for Amazon, a corporate behemoth which is generally used to getting what it wants and being able to ignore criticism in the process.

There have been seven warships of the Continental and U.S. Navies named Hornet. By far, the most famous, and most rewarded, was the sixth ship to carry the name. It also had one of the shortest careers. This Hornet, a Yorktown-class aircraft carrier that was commissioned less than two months before Pearl Harbor was attacked in 1941, was sunk during the Battle of Santa Cruz Islands exactly one year and seven days later. But in the interim, Hornet carried the raiders of the famous Doolittle Raid, took part in the decisive Battle of Midway, where four Japanese aircraft carriers were sunk and the war’s momentum began to shift in favor of the U.S. During the Battle of Santa Cruz Islands, Hornet fought off dozens of Japanese air attacks before it was damaged beyond repair and finished off by American torpedoes and shells. Its heroic stand in the South Pacific was deified by the media and amid public outcry, the name was given to another larger Essex-class aircraft carrier already under construction. The exact location of Hornet’s wreckage, as it was abandoned in haste, was never known. This week, the Navy confirmed that an expedition financed by billionaire Paul Allen had discovered the wreckage of the Hornet in the Solomon Islands in the South Pacific, 17,500 ft. down, sitting upright on the ocean floor. Allen, who passed away in October 2018, endowed his research expeditions so that they would continue after his death, and his stated target was to locate as many historic American shipwrecks from the Second World War as possible.

Defections by U.S. military intelligence and civilian intelligence agency staff are not common, the screening process of potential applicants is rigorous and anyone who has a vulnerability which could be exploited by an outside party—such as large personal debt—is genuinely excluded from consideration. Nevertheless, America’s intelligence communities are vast and employ thousands of individuals, with thousands more in the intelligence branches of each military service; by sheer force of odds, some people with questionable judgment are bound to make it through screening. On Wednesday, a grand jury indicted former Air Force intelligence officer Monica Witt, who defected to Iran in 2013, and actively sought to expose and undermine active American intelligence operations ongoing in Iran prior to that point. While Witt did compromise several American assets and shed light on a series of ongoing intelligence collection efforts, its not clear how much damage her efforts actually did. In the process, Witt exhibited extraordinarily poor tradecraft, leaving a number of obvious indicators of her actions; Witt was even warned by the FBI early in 2013 that she was being targeted by Iranian intelligence as an effort to compromise and flip her. Witt, who had already been in contact with Iranian officials for months prior to that point, dismissed the FBI report by saying that, when she next traveled to Tehran, she would take more precautions. For her part, Witt, who publicly converted to Islam before her defection, seems to have been influenced by ideological differences with the U.S. government as much as anything else. While an indictment issued by the American criminal justice system cannot reach her in Iran—the U.S. and Iran do not have diplomatic relations, let alone any sort of agreement on extradition—it does prevent Witt from ever traveling to any nation that does have extradition treaties with the United States.

According to the United Nations, there are currently 68 million people who have been displaced from their native countries because of violence; the largest number at any time in recorded history. By the mid-century, this number is expected to balloon to over 140 million. One of the largest shifts in population and citizenry from one region of the globe to others, is taking place, and much of it is spurred by upheaval in the Middle East and North Africa. Taking this from a macro to a micro perspective, the individual experience of the migrants fleeing from their homes to Europe in particular, is harrowing. The journey is fraught with danger and many individuals adopt fake identities to make it easier to slip past official immigration channels. This, however, effectively makes these individuals stateless and, if they die somewhere along the way, they essentially disappear from the face of the planet. This story from Harper’s follows the search by one Afghan man living in asylum in Britain for his younger brother who was attempting to make it from Afghanistan to Germany, only to suddenly disappear in Greece in January 2016. This is a heartrending story which demonstrates all the myriad ways it is still possible, in a world as interconnected as this where even the poorest refugee has a smart phone and social media accounts, to vanish without a trace, and how difficult and costly attempts to find them can be.

In 1996, Tom Junod wrote for GQ about his father, in particular his father’s sense of fashion, his tips for grooming, and how these reflected his individuality within his generation. The story was about Junod connecting with his father starting as a college student all the way through his father’s waning years. Just before the Super Bowl this year, Junod wrote again about this father, but from a much younger perspective, when he feared his father, but found a means to connect with him through gambling. Junod’s father’s fashion was such that he was often confused for a mobster, with his slick suits, colorful ties, and overall persona. Junod’s father, however, was not a member of la cosa nostra, but was in fact a debtor to them; Junod’s father was an excellent salesman but an incredibly unlucky gambler. And Junod’s lack of gambling prowess essentially meant that a large, and increasing, proportion of the family’s finances went towards servicing gambling debts his father accumulated; time and again it was made clear to the Junod family that not paying, was not an attractive option. As ruinous as it was, and the Junods were eventually forced to sell their Long Island home and move to Florida, Tom Junod explores how this action, which his mother actively participated in, created a relationship which might not otherwise have ever developed.

In 2017, Democrats, for the first time in decades, successfully defended two of the state’s top three offices: governor, lieutenant governor, and attorney general. The party came, literally, within a coin-flip, of winning control of the House of Delegates, and made steady gains in the state senate. In short, Old Dominion Democrats are in the ascendant, while the Commonwealth GOP is in ruins, with many poor candidates and a suddenly empty bench of promising ones. Over the past few weeks, however, it was discovered that Gov. Ralph Northam may have donned black face or dressed as a member of the KKK for a pictures in his medical school yearbook, Lt. Gov. Justin Fairfax was accused by two women of sexual misconduct in the past, and Attorney General Mark Herring that he too had donned black face for a party in the 1980s. Despite calls from national Democrats for Northam to retire and statements by the House of Delegates that it may consider impeachment of Justin Fairfax, there is little indication that Democratic electoral hopes are in any way damaged for 2020. In fact, they made be positioned to take over both chambers of the state legislature and usher in an era of single-party control of a state that two decades ago had been firmly controlled by Republicans. Kyle Kondik of the Center for Politics analyzes this odd dichotomy.

  Welcome to the weekend.

[blighted-elf]

i love your fledgling character ahnaki so much. is she still in los angeles after vtmb1?

Thank you! She is currently, but she’s spent the last 16 years traveling.

Right after the Venture tower explosion, she helped her fellow Anarchs clear out the remaining Camarilla before leaving LA to sort out loose ends from her old life in Sacramento. She met up with her family and friends after being reported as missing for two weeks. They had her seek treatment for drug abuse, after getting word from Samantha. After which, she legally changed her name and moved out to LA. She stayed there until early 2005, and then began traveling with Beckett, trying to uncover knowledge on the Thinbloods and Gehenna.  She spent a lot of time recruiting Anarchs and former Cams looking to jump ship, provided them refuge in LA (with the help of Damsel and her contacts) as well as helped to establish the Asylum franchise across Asia, America and Europe for the Voermans and the clan. Friendly eyes and ears around the world and inside the Cobweb is definitely a huge advantage.

She briefly returned to LA in 2007, 2010 and 2014, but never for more than a couple years at a time. She spent a good year or so in her birth place, New York, in 2017.    She then returned to LA in 2018, trying to aid the city’s Anarchs in fighting Prince Vannevar Thomas and his court. She plans on seeing it through until the end, but is growing very angry at how the Barons allowed Thomas to take control of the city in the first place, and how they don’t seem to care that their comfortable cold war has been at the cost of Malkavians in Santa Monica and Delilah’s Thinbloods. Distraught by their deaths, Abrams’ beckoning, and Jeanette being in danger because a blood hunt was called on Therese, I can see her taking matters into her own hands if things don’t pick up soon.