writing_shadows

For

faerierhona

Brood philosophy. Is that what it was? He'd certainly never have admitted it in court but if that was Brood philosophy they certainly had more going for them than he'd been led to believe. Heed one's beast, understand its needs and provide for it, indulge where it hungered, shy from that it feared, and destroy that which challenged it. Yes, he could see how that might be troubling for neonates and ancillae but surely no elder could survive without reaching such a balance? Without striking an accord with the beast?
And was he truly so far from the Brood, now it was all brought together? The Sanctified would certainly consider his goddess a demon. He was starting to realise that the Accolytes of Britain were as unlikely to accept her, despite the history, despite her relevence. The cult of Lilith had no roots here. Yet he had already sown the seeds and when the strength of the First Seneschal ruled this city from the darkness House Toreador would hold court at its heart.
He walked across the gallery floor, taking in the paintings he and Odette had selected together. They had each been chosen for their embodiment of aspects of the beast. When he opened his senses he could hear the howling from within the canvas, taste the passion toying playfully with his own inner monster. He let out a long, wholly affected breath, a habit he'd forced himself to develop for the masquerade's sake, and thought mournfully about the kindred of his new city. How lost they all were.
Did any kindred but the Toreador truly know the way art could speak to the beast? did any but the Daeva truly know the hunger and satisfaction of ones darkest desires as they were fulfilled? Did anyone outside the cult of Lilith truly understand that to rule meant giving oneself to the city, guiding its power and in so doing becoming its power?
Letting his senses wander he listened to Odette chastising her ghoul for its ever excessive shows of affection. He smelt the deep earty musk Daniel Stone left on the room Luc had granted him. He saw a young woman through Rooster's eyes, gasping her pleasure as he drew the life from her. Instinctively he knew that wherever he was, Mayhew watched over them all like a guardian angel.
He could feel the mingled emotions from the previous night's elysium soaking through the floor, fear and uncertainty mingled with hunger and a despair he could only presume to know the source off all permeated through his bare feet, filling him with the heart of the city. The emotions of the mortals who came here during the day faded into nothingness as they all became subsumed by his will. He knew that with a word his human pawns would die for him. He knew they trusted him not to abuse that power and he rewarded their faith with vigilance.
He knew that somewhere in the city some foolish kindred tampered with his court, for reasons he didn't even care to know. He could almost feel her sullying the purity of his praxis. Her mistake had been to interfere with the holdings of House Toreador. She had disrupted Odette's pets and now she was interfering with Luc's control over the kine. He felt his beast stir and fill his mind with its intent. The paintings sang to him a song of war. He knew what the goddess demanded of him. To rule one must make sacrifices.
This interloper would burn on the fires of Lilith's altar and in her flames his crown would be forged.