Much reason to feel elated. Just as much to feel depressed. My head is an insane mixture of both. And I don’t know just how far my sanity is going to last me. Doesn’t keep me from clinging to it as best I can. People sure are making that hard on me though.

So many things to be heard…

First thing that comes to mind was visitors from Saarbrücken. Now I know that diplomacy is very important. But why do we have to treat them overly kind when they in turn kick our traditions and habbits with their boots? Yes, they provoked us. Yes, we reacted. Yes, we shouldn’t have. Then again, what kind of guest comes there with all his good intentions, only to start the night off by provoking people? Nothing I’d expect from someone I would willingly call an ally. Not my call though. The prince tells us to play nice, we play nice. No matter just how undeserving those bastards are. At least two of them were smarter than that. The other two are still alive, surprisingly enough.

While most of the domain was busy talking themselves into a rage Rottenmeier did the smart thing and got all cozy with that delegation. A good thing, because she’s got the skills to draw information from them. Very useful person. I think we have reached some kind of understanding. That, or she’ll tear me down one of those nights. A risk I will have to take.

The whole situation escalated. Jacques was trying to heed my advice, which I value. Only he was slow in doing so, not decicive enough. And he made a few mistakes that just kept adding up. Eventually he almost ran outside in a frenzy. Someone must have stopped him, which is why I’ll have to approach Father Shepherd. Other than Jacques himself he is one of the few people to summon another. So it seems like a good idea to keep him close by to avoid things like that. Besides, it should stop him from trying to find the flaws in the senate. It would give him good reason to instead strengthen it – not only when talking to the senate, but to others as well.

To Phelan most of it seemed pretty amusing. He was probably just waiting to dig his claws into those unwanted guests. Makes me wonder when why it took him so long to actually attack. Usually it’s a pretty safe bet to just wait on Brujah and Gangrel tempers to take over and the problem would have been solved. Strikes me then that they must have been afraid not to be able to win this fight. Truly brave warriors, those.

Miss Rottenmeier also let me in on yet more failures von Stein added to his long list that particular night. As far as I know von Lützow hasn’t had a chance to talk to the man just yet though, so I guess he’s off the hook yet again. Won’t last him much longer.

The prince was… remarkably chipper. Not very helpful in some respects though. I had hoped she would at least scold our guests some. But to her it was all nothing. Next thing you know she’s surprised why nobody takes her institution all that seriously. And how can they if she herself doesn’t. She also asked me how Thomas was performing that night. And I can only say that it’s not very good. His suggestions sucked, as did his behaviour.

Which brings me to him. The moment he showed up was exactly when he suggested to withdraw the right of hospitality we had granted mere minutes before he appeared. I pointed that out, yet he kept sticking to that particular suggestions. Later that night Mira collapses and I ask him why. What’s it he tells his fellow senator? “None of your concern, Nate.” It bloody well is my concern, you stupid prick! And then what? Send her out on another team mission? Over my dead body. Fortunately I wasn’t the one who had to tell him off. Turns out he’s also warning Jacques about Jason and me. Which is stupid again. And it makes me wonder just who is pouring that particular poison down his ears…

Our favourite couple showed up as well. The countess still makes me wary, but I know that she has the best for this domain at heart. Plus she didn’t slit my throat for what I did to her husband, so I guess she probably doesn’t hate my guts quite as much as I thought. She also distracted Jason from looking. No clue why. Wasn’t paying much attention.

As for what exactly I did to her husband… I had his blood. Lord knows I tried my best to fight the urge, but after all that happened I found myself unable to resist. Rarely, if ever, have I craved the touch and blood of another quite so badly. I had his blood and enjoyed it. And I know I will need his help for what we have in mind about the future.

If only he hadn’t talked to Jack… For the first time in my life I have touched something pure, something pristine. And now I can not only assume that somebody else did, now I know. Unwanted, perhaps. But there nonetheless. I see how it scars and scares him. I don’t have to read his mind to know that the thought alone is torturing him and will do so for years to come. I may forgive him one night – which I should, seeing as i did worse – but he may never forgive himself for this. And though usually I wouldn’t mind just who touches, drinks or fucks whom I find myself being jealous and hurt. I have no idea why he did this. Maybe a friar is just too tempting, even for him.

At least Jack doesn’t know what exactly conspired between the Marchese and me. My guess is Bruni made him forget. I’m not sure whether that’s a curse or a blessing in disguise. But if I told him now I’d have to betray Bruni – which might make an already delicate situation so bad it’s beyond redemption. For a change I’ll have to keep my big mouth shut, no matter just how sorry I feel for what I did.

Jack tried so hard to make this work… I could see that he put up his best. But his voice still falters. And when it does that the rest won’t follow orders just right. Now I find myself caught between a rock and a hard place. I don’t want to remind him of the promise he gave, especially since blaming me for part of the failure comes easy. I wanted to see if he could handle the situation. And he couldn’t. But I had to see. Yet I feel sorry at the same time. This thing might break him. And even if I’m right I will lose him over that. There’s no way in hell I can make him keep this up for an extended period of time. Whatever I decide to do, either is equally wrong. Either I decide to let him off the hook and thereby risk yet more uproar in the domain – or I bind him to it and risk losing him for good. Damn that!

Usually I would try and meet up with Jason. Find some solace there. But the man is very much strained himself – and there isn’t much I can do to take the pressure off him. He’s got the same fatigue to fight, the same omnipreent hunger. Duties to perform. Misses his girl. And on top of it all gets betrayed by his oath-brother. Must be much, even for a pro like him. I have no intention to burden him with what troubles me. Besides, I should be able to handle this on my own. Otherwise I’m no better than my colleagues. For Jason’s sake as well as my own I have to stand as strong as I possibly can these nights.

A fortunate coincidence then that there’s the Titanic coming up. It will be an opportunity to make a display of just how unaffected I am by all of this. Put on a good show. Flash them some smiles. Even when you’re dieing inside. Cruel? Yes. But necessary. I won’t shy away. Bring it on, I say.

As for Dee… I can see the hurt in her eyes with every word she says. Every message I get. Jealousy – I wonder whether it can actually kill a person. The longer I remain under the influence of the blood the more I see her suffer. I’m not sure how much more of that I can handle. I need her around. I need her to want me. What I don’t need is her to be mad at me over any of this. My fear is she’ll do something stupid over this…

It was hard to approach the shadowy figure before him, knowing perfectly well that this someone had quite a say in his future. Yet he held his head up high, making deliberate steps towards said person. He could feel stern eyes watching him, without being able to actually see them.
At arms length he stood still, waiting three heartbeats until he raised his voice to adress the shadows.
“You don’t want someone to come to you crawling.”
The shadows gave no answer.
“You want someone who has some spine left. Someone who knows the meaning of pride.”
Still no answer. He dropped his gaze just below the shadowy figure’s waistline.
“You want someone who knows pride and knows just when to bow his head to another.” With that he lifted his head up again, looking in the direction of where he suspected eyes should have been. “So the real question is: Do you want my head bowed now?”
If it was asked of him he would kneel, he would serve, he would bite. He would play the whore to her, to him – to anyone he had to, if only it meant to save what he had fought for, in his own way. But if the words and gesture had been chosen foolishly this would get him killed, one way or another.
He had never asked the real question because he knew that he would never get an answer.