[CLOSED] Other Elysium - Mid September - New York MET Museum - Vampires [12/30/2025]
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Location: Elysium — The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Temple of Dendur
Time: An unscheduled Conclave, called with less than one hour’s notice
Tone: Civilized panic. Ritual politeness over open knives.BEGIN SCENE:
The Temple of Dendur is immaculate. Ancient stone. Still water. Soft uplighting that turns every Kindred into a carved statue pretending to breathe.
The Prince stands at the head of the long marble floor. He does not sit.
The Primogen seats are filled — Except one. The Empty Chair remains untouched, draped in black silk that no one remembers placing there.
Father Malachi finishes the Invocation.
“May this place remain neutral.
May words replace blood.
May the night forgive us for what we are about to decide.”The silence afterward is too long.
Prince Alistair Crowe speaks without raising his voice.
“We have lost three safe houses in Brooklyn. Two in Queens. One in Harlem. All within forty-eight hours.”
He pauses.
“These were not Sabbat. These were not hunters.”
Helena Knox already knows. She rises smoothly, hands folded.
“Chicago Carthians, in rolling attacks no less, nothing more than petulant drive-bys. Mortal shooters under ghouled direction.”
A ripple moves through the room—not fear, but calculation.
Giovanni Rawlins bares his teeth.
“That’s a war crime.”
Isabelle Montreux fans herself, eyes glittering.
“It’s a message.”
Uncle Static’s voice arrives late, warped, as if echoing from a tunnel that shouldn’t exist.
“It already happened once. We didn’t learn.”
Crowe turns his gaze—not to Helena. To William “Bill the Butcher” Cutting, who leans casually against a pillar, arms crossed, hat tilted back. Crowe’s voice remains level.
“Sheriff.”
Bill grins.
“Prince.”
Crowe does not accuse, he asks.
“Did you authorize an inter-city provocation without my knowledge?”
Bill shrugs.
“I sent a gift.”
A murmur.
Even Father Malachi stiffens.
Helena Knox turns slowly.
“What kind of gift?”
Bill’s smile sharpens.
“An old knife. Honest steel. Belonged to a man who didn’t ask permission to cross borders.”
Crowe closes his eyes. When he opens them, the room feels colder.
“You challenged the Prince of Chicago.”
Bill nods.
“He declared Dragons and Crones kill-on-sight. That sort of provocation demands attention.”
Marrowveil’s laughter is soft and wet.
“The butcher remembers what oaths smell like.”
Dr. Voigt does not smile.
“You have endangered ongoing research assets.”
Bill snaps his head toward him.
“Your experiments don’t outrank the blood.”
Voigt replies calmly.
“In my experience, only time will tell.”
Crowe steps forward.
“You acted without mandate. Without sanction. Without calculation.”
Bill pushes off the pillar.
“I acted because you wouldn’t.”
The words hang like a gunshot.
Marcus Hale—Redline—finally speaks from the back of the chamber, flanked by Carthian observers.
“Chicago didn’t wait for a declaration. They’re already shooting.”
Helena snaps.
“You’re coordinating this?”
Hale spreads his hands.
“I’m preventing it from getting worse.”
Isabelle laughs.
“By letting them murder us?”
“By letting them scare you,” Hale replies. “There’s a difference.”
Crowe’s voice cuts through the noise.
“You have turned New York into a proxy battlefield.”
Bill meets his eyes.
“Better than a meaningless balance sheet.”
Uncle Static interrupts, voice splitting.
“This is where the loop breaks.”
Silence.
“The Mirror predicted this. But not the order.”
Marrowveil hisses.
“The false god is choking on its own reflection.”
Father Malachi raises his hands.
“Enough.”
The room stills—not out of respect, but habit.
“Blood has been spilled without rite.
Authority has been violated.
The city is already bleeding.”He turns to Crowe.
“If you punish the Sheriff, the docks burn.
If you protect him, the covenants fracture.”He turns to Bill
.
“If you continue, the Machine will notice.”Bill’s grin fades—for just a moment.
Helena speaks quietly.
“Chicago knows about the Empty Chair.”
Every head turns.
“They referenced Elias Ward. By name.”
Uncle Static whispers.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen yet.”
Crowe feels the room tilt.
“Who told them?”
No one answers.
Because they all might have.
THE COUNCIL BREAKS
Crowe straightens.
“This council is adjourned.”
A lie. Everyone knows it.
“William Cutter,” he says evenly, “you will explain yourself to me. Alone.”
Bill smiles again—but there’s steel in his eyes now.
“Anytime, your Highness."
Hale slips out first.
Isabelle is already texting.
Voigt makes a note.
Marrowveil licks blood from her thumb.
Uncle Static stares at the Empty Chair.
Father Malachi
“Children,” he says gently, “if you are wise—you will leave the city soon.”
The lights dim.
Outside, sirens wail.
New York has noticed the wound.
And something beneath it has started to stir. -
I think the intent by the Chicago Prince was Ordo Dracul and Crone bend the knee immediately or be fair game. The New York Sheriff decided to take that personally, hence the challenge. Chicago Dragons need not worry so long as they fall in line.
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Can Vanda get a message to the New York Seneschal offering her services as a go between and agent to settle this affair in exchange for a favor? She has a favor in mind already. She want's Voight on a silver platter, but won't say it as such, moreso help with an affair with Dr Voight that has gone sour.
For settling, she would go through the chicago Seneschal, a member of the Sanctified, to try and find out the Chicago Prince's objective, and then see about a meeting between the two princes to hash it out. Clearly, the Chicago prince wouldn't escalate unless he thought there was some way he could benefit.
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FYI, Ordo are fine in Chicago. It's kind of 'tell me what you're doing, and you can continue doing whatever you want."
It's the Crone and Carthians that are kill on sight. The Crone because the Sanctified hate them and the Prince of Chicago is very closely tied to them, and the Carthians because they have started to overthrow, and kill, Invictus princes in the USA. Also, the Prince thinks they are garbage.
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K Kaimuund locked this topic on