He called me an Ass!

Very confusing evening. And unproductive too!

Things are getting more interesting though. The prince is being irritating, as always. Haven’t seen her at the last gathering. Doesn’t mean anything. I hope she’ll attend this Thursday. Still can’t get over the fact she actually had someone tell us that we were doing a good job. Seems so out of character of her.

Poor Jason. JB still has it in for him. This time he fired a gun at the poor fellow. Fine, so he’s confused as of late. He’ll get over it! We all have those moments from time to time. No reason to go ballistic on the poor fellow. Either way. I promised I’d try and get him back on track. So I set up the old hut and invited him over. Waiting for him now. This’d better work out. Otherwise we’re in a lot of trouble. Alessandro won’t tolerate Jason’s condition much longer. Especially not after what happened with Karsten.

More and more people have replied to my original invitation. I’m curious in particular about Brother Jean. Interesting fellow. Kind. By no means naive. I should try and see into that guy some more.

Simon, for the time being, qualifies as an ass. Talking to me about how I should have given Marius more time. Screw that! I gave him lots of time! But of course he can’t see that. Says I rushed things too much. Says he could have helped, conditioning the poor kid. And then what. I’d have lived next door to a machine. No point in doing that, right? Also he says I kind of owe him for his help with the blood. Bullshit! You voted for his survival as much as I did, so don’t try and steal favors. I’m much more likely to help when being asked nicely. This way? You can be sure I’ll make you feel the pain next time you try and cut me.

Same goes for this Harkon fellow. Brother Jean says he’s kind of a nice guy. Wise perhaps. I’m buying neither. Lord knows I’ll be there when he makes a mistake. And I will make sure people know about it. At least those that matter. You’re not above me, pal. No matter what you may wish for.

That thing with JB is giving me a serious headache. Up to now he seemed just like a show-off. Annoying, perhaps. But all in all someone you could count on. Someone fair. Turns out he’s just using people to live out his own little pet peeves, using all the wrong reasons to get pissed off. And the worst part is that Alessandro supports him in that. Jason and I basically pledged out loyalty. We get repaid by serving as living targets to Brujah megalomania. So Jason made a mistake. Deal with it the way our clan does. Don’t have others clean up your mess. Especially if they only make it worse, as JB just so happens to do. So… What remains to be seen is how the prince will react. And what Alessandro will then make of it. I like him. I don’t want this to end bad for either of us. But I couldn’t just let this happen. Don’t make me turn my back on you…

And there’s more casualties too. Good old Raphael is going to be relieved of his office, since the other primogen refuse to continue working with him. As curious as I may be concerning his reaction I also feel somewhat sorry for him. It’s a challenge. I’m not sure if he’ll live up to it.

All of this is what happens right before the party. No matter the original intention I may have had with it, there’s sure to be trouble about. Seems that the others aren’t the only ones being tested.

Irgendwo in Indonesien…

Das Haus mit dem hohen Gibel war mit Blättern und Gräsern bedeckt die inzwischen längst eine braune Färbung angenommen hatten. Wände gab es jedoch nicht und somit auch keine abgetrennten Zimmer. Nur einige wenige Stützbalken und Holzstreben, letztere mit allerlei Dingen daran befestigt. Schalen, geflochtene Grasteppiche…
Auf dem Boden saßen drei Männer. Zwei Einheimische. Einer recht jung. Der andere wohl Mitte 50, mit einem Kopfschmuck, Gesichtsbemalungen und auch gestochenen Zeichnungen. Vor ihm stand eine qualmende Schale auf dem Boden. Die letzten Überreste einiger Blätter schmorten darin vor sich hin.
“The shaman says he will only grant you the privilege once he knows you can withstand pain.”, übersetzte der jüngere Mann dem Dritten.
Ein Fremdländer. Ganz offensichtlich. Spätestens die weiße Hautfarbe machte diesen Umstand überdeutlich. Der Blick des einzigen funktionierenden Auges ruhte auf dem alten Mann. “Ask him whether this will suffice as evidence.” Er hob die Augenklappe an und gab so den Blick auf das verätzte andere Auge frei.
Der alte Mann nickte.

Drei Monate später…

“He says that he would have liked to grant you one of the symbols.” Der Alte grinste den Fremden wohlwollend an. “But he thinks that you are already beyond saving!” Zu dritt lachten sie, hoben ihre Becher und tranken daraus.

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