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Lazar’s keen sight instantly swept from Constancia to the pair who entered just behind her. Recognizing the Giovanni Antediluvian instantly.

Claudius.

The half blood brother of his greatest rival. While he had nothing personal with the Ante, no, that was a lie. It was always and had always been personal with Lazar. While he begrudged him his existence he knew the rules of Elysium were in place. The treaty he could not give two shots about but Lazar was here to represent the Capadocians as much as any other of any other clan. No, that was a lie too. He was here for Ambrogino. ******** representing the clan. He was here for himself and himself alone.

Slipping from his seat the large, pale man crossed the space of room between himself the the trio. Coming to stand behind the woman. He had no worry for the two who stood in front of her. They weren’t even a blip upon his radar. Colorless eyes regarded them as one would a pair of bugs on the sidewalk. He said nothing. He was not there to intimidate them and he highly doubted the Giovanni Antediluvian was given to such proclivity to be in such a state. But oh if they only knew but for a snap of his fingers…..they itched.

“Constancia.” Sharp features set into a scowl as he glanced down at the smaller figure in front of him. The woman who tugged at the strings of his undead heart. How he hated her for that, but in a weird sense he also cared for her too. He knew she was in no immediate dangers, that was not why he approached. He was simply making sure that she, as he was sure she did, knew he was there.

Benny was used to not being taken particularly seriously. It was the story of his unlife, the very definition of his being. He was accustomed to being glowered at, cussed out, thrown out, and otherwise heckled when he came to find something for Ambrogino -- be it an item, be it information, be it to dispatch a problem. He was no Elder, he was no Methuseleh, he was no Ante -- but he was hardy, he was stubborn, and he was scrappy as hell. He wasn't going to return to Ambrogino without the information he'd been told to get. He'd need to barter or trade, or to make some sort of deal. His least favorite part of this sort of encounter, but every vampire had their price, or their interests. The question was what could he offer in exchange for this tidbit? Ashrad had clearly been interested in some sort of deal, otherwise he wouldn't have shown up at the party -- now it was just figuring out the price before he disappeared.

Surely, the stranger didn't want his time wasted. "I came to talk, to make a deal," he hastily explained, trying to keep himself relatively vague. It wouldn't be unusual for a Giovanni to be wheeling and dealing at this party, even if it was with some cloaked stranger. Never mind Benny looked more like a scrapper than some hoity-toity suit, but the Giovanni came in all shapes and sizes. Hopefully, anyone who might their conversation interesting, would also find it inanely boring. Besides which, Benny didn't necessarily have to be explicit--Ashrad knew why he was there and what they sought. The dark haired Ancilla was simply there to retrieve it and make some sort of deal or arrangement. Hopefully without too much back and forth. Money. Bodies. Vitae. The Puttanesca wasn't half bad at making deals, and he had plenty of connections and contacts he'd gained over the years he could lean on if he needed something weightier. Being Ambrogino's retriever had come with some benefits after all these years. Benny might not have had friends but he had connections and favors. This transaction was a bit of give and take, but he was determined to get the Ante what he needed.

Even if that meant getting sniffed.

Benny's brows knit slightly when Ashrad leaned forward to give him a whiff, but he didn't flinch or make a face. It was, admittedly, weird, but honestly, the Puttanesca was inured to weird. He had seen some s**t in his travels, so this was nothing to him. That he could smell his Clan from his blood was quite the party trick, but he wasn't going to comment on it -- or that he reeked of betrayal. Whatever. None of the Clans were pure, and they all had blood on their hands in some shape or form. He wasn't going to take the bait, wasn't going to be insulted -- Ashrad would have to do worse than that to rankle him.

Alas, it seemed that Ashrad wasn't in the mood to talk. ********. "Wait, please," he quickly entreated. No, no, no, if the Meth left now he'd be back to square one, and risk Ambrogino's ire on top of it if he found out. It wasn't the extra work of hunting the Methuselah down again that concerned him, it was failing his mission, and ultimately failing Ambrogino that would hurt him the most. He lived to serve the ante, for better or for worse. "I'm prepared to make this work, if you are. You wouldn't have wasted your time if you weren't at least interested in making some sort of arrangement, would you have?" He asked, hoping his appeal would at least keep Ashrad around a few moments longer.

He didn't care who was here, even if the laughter of the woman made his skin crawl. He couldn't let himself care, no matter how put off he happened to be. He wasn't here for anyone else in this room but Ashrad, so no amount of political drama was going to budge the stubborn Ancilla from his task. "I'm not going anywhere," he stated quietly, but forcefully. He wasn't going to be spooked by some crazy. He was used to threats, he was used to close calls, he was used to being absolutely and utterly expendable. Tonight was no different.

It was what he was.

And if that made him some dog, than so be it.

Ambrogino sent him here to aid him, and while he'd never really pieced together what he was doing for the Clan, Benny retrieved what he wanted ever so willingly. It was all Benny knew. He'd been sent to the Giovanni Family years ago to serve -- both Clan and Ante -- and sometimes the lines between them grew fuzzy. Was he working for Ambrogino or was he working for The Family? Now was one of those times but he didn't care. He was going to get this done, one way or another, even if he had to chase the Methuselah across all Faetasia. Ambrogino was a powerful vampire. Perhaps there was something they could do for the Banu Haqim or the illustrious Methuselah. Whatever he had to do for whatever Ambrogino needed -- that was his task, and Benny would do whatever he could to get the results his Ante expected.

Seussi

Gideon could care less who else was at the party, much less whether any drama was about to unfold. His blue eyes were only for Capulet, drinking in his visage as if this might be his only opportunity to do so. And who knew? It well could be. He well understood that the beauty before him could get any vampire he wanted with hardly any effort to be had! So to have him on his arm tonight was a treat he wanted to relish, for as long as he was allowed.

Never in his life had he been so twitterpated.

Gideon had had relationships from time to time, but none of them had ever resulted in this mix of lust and intrigue. He almost felt like a man possessed. Usually his relationships were fellow clanmates, or some clever mind, where they whittled the hours away by extensive reading, broken up with some heavy, clever discussion. They were practical. And when the relationship ran its course, they gathered their books, said their goodbyes, and carried on.

But Capulet... Whatever he was feeling was something raw, and for a man who kept himself secluded, cold, and detached....he wasn't sure how to process it. Perhaps it would pass, the longer he remained with him. ... but with how he focused on the bite of the lip, the fluttering of his stomach, no. He doubted very much that the feeling would quickly pass.

"I'm an honest man," he countered, his lips curling into a small smile. When was the last time that had happened? "You truly are exquisite." How the party didn't come to standstill to admire the beauty, was a mystery.

"To be quite frank, I wouldn't have come if there wasn't a chance of seeing you," he confessed, taking the fluted glass and lifting it at Capulet in a quiet toast. "I'm surprised they let me in at all, given the age of my attire. I think it might well be considered a...what do the youth call it... a crime in fashion." He clucked his tongue, though once again, his lips curled into a smile.

Thankfully, Capulet more than made up for Gideon's old-fashioned and out dated appearance.

"I've been well enough, if not, perhaps, and you must forgive my boldness, impatient to see you again. I'm afraid I enjoyed our meeting too well, and I'm afraid it's put me behind in my studies." He didn't dare admit how often the vampire ran through his thoughts...but he supposed the other could surmise he was quite a distraction. "I'm very glad to be here with you."

Of course, the cackling of voices was unnerving, even for Gideon who so rarely was shaken. His eyes moved over to the woman, and three men not far from the entrance. His arm tightened protectively on Capulet, and he ushered them further from the entrance. "I believe there's a garden out back, with a lovely fountain. Shall we perhaps continue our talk there?" He didn't want to take him somewhere Capulet didn't wish to go... but Elysium or not, he wasn't sure he wanted to be part of this exchange.

Yayoi

It wasn't lost upon Mithras that Armistice barely reacted to his words or insinuations. They had been at this for so long now, and the Methuselah had already tried, and failed repeatedly, to charm his way into the other's good graces. He'd actually tried a wide array of strategies in an attempt to sway the Justicar but to no avail. The man was utterly impossible. Rules bound in law sealed away in a steel fortress wrapped all up in one impossibly good-looking vampire who would not budge in the slightest. It was aggravating, to say the least. Frustrating to the point of insanity at best.

However, if there was one thing Mithras would always be, it was persistent. Like a gnat constantly buzzing around an ear. He downed the last of his vitae-infused wine and turned to order another, only half listening to Armistice's reply. When he got the bartender's attention, he pointed to his own empty glass, and gestured toward the Justicar's as well, figuring the man could use a top-up by now.

Finally, he turned his attention back to Armistice and tutted his tongue a few times while shaking his head. "Oh come now, I know that can not be true. After all of the good times we've shared, I know your thoughts must drift to me at least on occasion." The new drinks arrived, and Mithras reached for the flute of champagne to offer it to his troublesome companion.

"For instance, don't you remember that time you, accidentally I am sure, walked in on me when I was entertaining several guests in my bedroom? You sure managed to catch me in quite a compromising position that night. I am certain that image must be seared into your brain." He swirled his wine while he spoke, his voice steeped in heavy amusement at the memory. Of course, it had all been planned. Anything to try and drive off the nuisance that was constantly appearing on his doorstep for weeks at a time.

It hadn't worked, of course, but he was positive that for at least half a night afterward, Armistice had found some difficulty meeting his gaze. That in itself almost made all the trouble worth it.

Leppaluoi was dressed casually more dressed than he normally would be he didn't have a clan but if he picked on this might be it. He couldn't say for certain. He wore loose green pants and a open red shirt with a number of buttons open. He wore black boots with his green pants tucked into them. His long red hair flowed freely down his back and shoulders. He didn't care about much of anything except enjoying the party. He was a bit of a lazy lout at times. He wanted someone to take care of him and give him the life style he desired.

Aureliano didn't object when he was whisked to the dance floor, glad to be somewhere else. He almost felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders, as if he'd been holding his breath since the moment they arrived. Perhaps he had. The room they had been in had been chalk-full of powerful vampires, and he'd felt very small, and very squishy in their presence. It hadn't been quite so bad until that woman showed up...

Just thinking about her laughter made him shudder, and the way Aurey had taken off the moment she appeared must have meant she was no good news. The name Constancia did draw up some history lessons... there were certain names that all Giovanni should know, Japheth being one of them. Unfortunately, the last Ignatius had understood, was that she was dead. A non-entity. No threat.

.... wasn't she?

What did it mean to have her here? And would the power of Elysium stay the Cappadocian's hands? Suddenly, he wasn't sure he wanted to be here. His luck was bad enough as it was without those assholes crawling out of the woodwork. And what of his parents? Claudius might be powerful but... power didn't necessarily mean safety. And Vinny, well, gods.... he could only imagine what his father might say or do. Mph.

"I thought...well... I guess I thought wrong," he added, not bothering bringing up the obvious response that he'd thought she was dead. If that really was her then they were all mistaken. "Are you okay?" He asked, taking a longer look at Aurey as they danced. Gods knew that no one wanted to be around the Caps, but given the vampires history with them, given what had happened.... surely, there had to be some trauma there. While he'd helped get him back, they hadn't exactly been on good speaking terms, so he'd never really had a chance to ask him what happened, or more importantly, how he was doing.

Aureliano was tough, and kept a tough visage...but that didn't mean there weren't unspoken horrors dredged up by the sight of that one.

Ignatius danced close to Aurey, letting his arms slip loose about his husband's waist, holding onto his hips as he shimmied and swayed in time with the beat. The bodies around them practically formed a shield, though Iggy wasn't entirely relaxed. He kept one eye on the entrance door, and periodically let himself sweep a glance around, hoping someone might be of use to their cause.

A Baali would stand out, wouldn't they? Maybe a trip to the Baali pits would be on deck for the weekend.

Yayoi

Well, perhaps if Gideon wanted someone a bit more book read and learned he might wish to look elsewhere. The last bit of reading material Capulet had picked up was a fashion magazine. Those were more his speed. Too many words, too many big words, gave the young vampire a bit of a headache. But he couldn’t fault the other male his proclivity for books and knowledge. In fact it was quite endearing. To each their own. But he also couldn’t guarantee any riveting conversation that would interest the True Brujah either. They would just have to find some other nd of common ground if they felt the need to make this work past short lived social gatherings.

Capulet shook his head lightly with a small chuckle. “Well I am glad I did not disappoint. Though I would be loathe to miss a party as splendid as this. Let alone missing out on spending the event by with you.” He smiled, a charming, genuine smile that said that all his attention was focused on the one who’s arm he was on. Gideon deserved nothing less than his full, but divided attention. Although the urge to glance around at all the fancy looking guests was quite alluring. So every now and again he would sneak a peak at what some nearby lady or fancy gentleman was wearing before ocean blue eyes quickly turned back to his companion.

“Oh, Gideon, I’m nothing special. Why I’m barely worth the trouble at all.” Well no, that wasn’t entirely how Capulet felt about himself. In fact, quite the opposite was true. But he’d never let the other male think he was completly and utterly full of himself. That he thought he was the next best thing to vitae. He didn’t want to see that shallow to him.

He frowned only slightly at Gideon’s admission. “Behind in your studies? Now Gideon don’t you let little ol me distract you from what’s important to you. I know you love your books and tomes and all that jazz.” Capulet took a sip from his drink.

The sound of cackling and weird voices drew his attention towards the strange woman at the door who seemed to have three gentleman companions with her. Well, two of which seemed just as equally as shocked to see her there. His fingers tightened around Gideon’s arm and Capulet gave a small nod of his head. “Yes, I think a bit of fresh air would do me some good. It’s getting a bit stuffy in here.”