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Ravnos knew that these sorts of gatherings were perhaps not quite up to the God’s tastes. But he could not fault him for that. They could be a bit overwhelming at times and even the Disciple had his limits when it came to mingling with the other clans. So he was grateful that his love had agreed to come. To make an appearance and reassure his people that yes the God of All Vampires was still as strong and as involved in the world as ever. As if there was ever any doubt. Surely not. But then the Disciple tried to instill much of his own way of caring for his own clan in the young God as much as Grendel would allow. But he would not force him, simply offer suggestions, guidance, observations and if his love wished to listen to him it would be his choice.

His green gaze instantly swept around the room. Taking in those who were currently in attendance. And while there were many he did not know they were still those that he did. It had been a long while since the last time he had seen any of the other Disciples. So far he spotted Narcise, Caius, Ishtar and was that…..Enoch? An eyebrow raised as his lips set in a slightly hard line. There were few that the Disciple found unpleasant but it was hard to deny the deep rooted displeasure and distrust between their clans. Old disputes were often times hard to set aside so his gaze flickered away from the other Disciple who seemed to be struggling with his attire. A light smirk on the ancient vampire’s lips. Any discomfort the Gangrel seemed to be in brought him great amusement.

So far he had only seen one of his own at the party. A shame but the night was still young and he had to give the girl credit for being there. Hopefully with time, more of his clan would eventually make an appearance.

Still there were many more he could sense were also powerful members of their clans. Old and ancient vampires though only a handful as old as him so far. He mused quietly to himself, leaning against Grendel as golden ringed fingers idly traced patterns on his arm. His attention drawn back to the God when his voice rumbled in reply. Nobody could argue that his love was the most handsome companion there. They could try but who could really compare to the God of Vampires? In Ravnos’ mind there was just no comparison.

As the goblet was offered to him, he took it gratefully. Leaning up to place a reassuring kiss on his cheek. Appreciating the fact that he had offered it to him. He could have simply ordered himself a drink but anything they had here would pale in comparison to what Grendel could conjure. There was a familiar hint of spice to the dark crimson liquid as he took a sip. One he knew all too well from when Liliana had gifted them her own reserves of vitae laced liquor. The Deity must have enjoyed it enough to add it to his own mixture. “Shall we mingle or perhaps you would like to show off your divine dance moves?” He chuckled into the cup while taking another sip. Ravnos knew that Grendel wasn’t much of a dancer. The last time the God had danced was at the Patshiv and that was perhaps a type of dance more akin to the club room of the mansion than anything formal. So he didn’t expect him to really take him up on the offer. Though maybe he could weed out one little dance later on if he was good.

Caius might have been a Disciple, but he was by no means here to simply stand around like a wallflower, or look stoic and grim with a drink in his hand watching the onlookers have fun. He might have had responsibilities, he might have had politics to play, but this was a night for his clan...and, he supposed, all the clans... to let their hair down and really enjoy their unlife. The music was superb, the lighting exquisite, the food and drink sublime -- and he had a handsome vampire spinning him out on the dance floor.

Caius couldn't be happier.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asked, as if he didn't already know the answer. Still, as he gazed up at his colorful consort, he couldn't help but desire to hear such an affirmation. "I hope you've a strong constitution for dancing, handsome, for I intend to have my fill." And when Caius wanted something, the Toreador would stop at nothing to get it.

So far, everything was going smoothly. There was always a risk when the Clans got together, not to mention with mortals and Clanless among them--but so far there was no drama. Perhaps having the vampire god himself present was one way to keep things in line, but surely, if trouble did stir, that was what security was for. "Any hopes for the new year, darling?" He asked, slipping his arms about the others neck as the pace of the dance changed to something a bit slower.

Cheri

It wasn’t like Llwellyn to leave the temple grounds often. But he had heard tales of the types of parties that the Toreador threw. And while he hadn’t even existed around the time of the last party he figured perhaps that it would be a good idea to get out and maybe rub a few elbows with fellow kindred. His mother was always encouraging him to do as such even if he quietly protested.

But tonight he had hopes that maybe he might run into a particular vampire he had just met recently.

Since that chance meeting it had been hard for Llwellyn to concentrate on his usual coming and goings about the temple grounds. Oh, he was still able to focus on tending to his plants but his mind did often wander to the dark haired stranger who had come to the temple seeking out his grandfather that one fateful day. Instead he had found Llwellyn covered in dirt.

Llwellyn wasn’t sure what kind of attire was appropriate for this kind of party so he made no big fuss in getting all dressed up. He wore his usual attire though he was definitely cleaner than the last time Vano had seen him. As he entered the mansion he made note of all the faces he could see. And me he could sense were mortal and others were of course vampires. Some were old and ancient ones while others, like himself, were quite low on the totem pole.

His deep amber gaze swept across the room until the sudden glint of a coin being tossed into the air caught his attention. One moment it was there, there next it was gone. Following the arching trail of where the coin had come from his gaze had settled upon the dark haired stranger who had tossed the coin. His nerves got the best of him though and he began to second guess himself. Would he even be welcome to approach? Llwellyn was merely a child compared to Vano. What interest might he have in the younger vampire? Surely there was nothing he could offer the Antediluvian that the older vampire could not seek out from others or did not already possess.

He made note of his grandfather’s standing in the middle of the room though he did not approach. He wasn’t here to be a burden to them or to tie up their time. Llwellyn saw enough of them at the temple to not warrant a need to socialize with them. So then what was he to do? He could stand there looking silly or he could try and mingle with the others who were also milling about. But socializing just wasn’t his strong point. Instead he made a beeline for the bar. Maybe if he ordered himself something to drink that would give him some time to think up a really good reason to approach Vano instead of being empty handed.

Aureliano might not have been as formally dressed Ignatius, but he still was as handsome as any of them ... and Iggy had taken an appreciative note of his appearance while they were together. He kept it to himself, of course -- complimenting him would probably irritate Aureliano, or would somehow get him in trouble for going off course. They weren't here for one another, they weren't even here to celebrate -- they were here to work.

Maybe he shouldn't have cleaned up so well for it, but pride wouldn't have had him go out in any other way. Who knew what other Giovanni might appear? To shame the family's reputation by appearing in such company dressed less than his best would be humiliating. No. He had to look like he'd gone to this party with every intention to have fun and show off -- a Giovanni looking like the rabble would spread like wildfire, he was sure. Besides, he felt like he fit into the crowd dressed as he was -- just another pretty face among a crowd of pretty faces.

Settling himself at the bar, he ordered himself a negroni, before letting his eyes drift back to the crowd. The power in the room, especially the crackle of the red-haired god of vampires himself, had Iggy feeling just a little uncomfortable. There were vampires here who could crush them without a second thought. While he was used to feeling the power which radiated off his father, his uncle, and even his grandfather -- these were all strangers. Who among them might have the information they needed? It was entirely possible they were all far too important to bother. He didn't need any upper up to get into their business. No, they probably needed a vampire a little lower than the upper crust...

But who?

"Not sure," he spoke quietly, tapping a claw idly on the table. "Not seeing anyone worthwhile yet," he stated, nose wrinkling ever so slightly. So far he saw vampires that must have fallen in different clans... but not a Baali among them. He supposed he'd be more surprised if one came at all, much less one of appropriate rank and position. Maybe this hadn't been a good idea and a waste of time. He unconsciously rubbed at his neck, a small frown settling upon his features.

"Hope this isn't a bust." No, it couldn't be. They'd just have to wait. The party had only just begun... who knew who might still trickle in?

Yayoi

It was easy to hide any reaction the Methuselah had to the approaching Justicar with a languid sip of his red wine. His eyes half-lidded as they followed the other Ventrue from where he rose smoothly from his seat, glimmering with cold amusement from just behind his raised glass. The deep hue of his drink tinted his lips slightly darker as he lowered the glass, and a warm smile quickly spread the nearer Armistice came. He knew that this moment was coming. A meet-up between two old adversaries that would renew the Justicar's vested interest in Mithras's endeavours. Thus, the old cycle of deceit would begin anew. Ah, to stretch those legs again! Mentally, the ancient vampire who was once a King prepared himself.

Their first battle was about to begin.

"Armistice~" He greeted the other vampire with warmth to match the smile, his eyes crinkling at their corners with a facade of mirth. At that moment, he was content to just hold the Ventrue's gaze. No matter how dangerously those red eyes glimmered, no matter how poised to strike the other vampire seemed, Mithras would never show just how uncomfortable Armistice actually made him feel. Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he gave his head a small shake. "A hole? Come now. Surely you jest! My luxurious home could hardly be considered a mere hole. But I am overjoyed to hear that you've been thinking about me, perhaps even dreaming of the moment you would see me again?" He gave a slight rise of his eyebrows at this, the words steeped in false joviality.

As Armistice moved in closer, Mithras forced himself to stay relaxed, not flinching back against the movement, though it was impossible to deny the way those whispered words raised the hair along his skin, or the little tingle at the base of his skull that shivered down along his spine. He was sure the other vampire knew just what he was doing, but instead of taking the bait, he simply let out a hearty laugh, as if the Justicar had only told him a very amusing joke.

"Fine then, good sir." Mithras reached out to clap him on the shoulder. "A visit we shall have. I'll make sure my people have stocked the cellar with the good wine. I get the feeling we'll be needing a lot of it, over the next few weeks. You always seem to find excuses to stay for far longer than you're welcome." That last part held a lot more bite to it than what the Methuselah allowed to show in his features. He squeezed the other vampire's shoulder before letting go and turning away to take another long sip of his wine. Inside, a tumultuous darkness stirred around a cold, dead heart that no amount of liquor would warm.

The whispers were what brought her here. Their sweet cacophony swelled inside her mind, persistent and demanding. They were, at times, quite relentless and forward in their instruction, which was at least a welcome respite from their usual cryptic musings. She knew where they wanted her to be, and when, though the why remained obscured from her, as was so often the case. What was also quite common was her willingness to blindly follow where those whispers led her, with very little thought or concern.

She was dressed in her usual priestess garb, perhaps seeing no reason to change into anything else. The bones that adorned her clicked and clacked together with every light step she took, her movements hauntingly whimsical, a light humming song coming from beneath her breath as she approached the mansion and made her way inside. She was a slight thing, with skin stretched tight across protruding ribs and gaunt cheeks set beneath razor-sharp cheekbones. However, her dark red lips appeared luscious and full, pulled up at their edges in a smile, the only part of her face that was visible beneath the lace of her hood pulled low to veil eyes that shone pale as freshly fallen snow.

Her humming stopped as she traipsed inside the mansion doors, her arms spread wide as she spun herself around while letting out an unnerving giggle, one that echoed with many voices. It was as if she were presenting herself as alive and well for the first time to her vampire brethren, and those of Giovanni would know her for who she was.

The Cappadocian Antedeluvian, Constancia.