For a moment they are warm, but as soon as it is there the warmth shrinks away and Angie slips from my hold and draws towards the Prince. I run to Angie and hold her hands in mine.
Ugly anvil tattoo free#
I, myself, am not like the others so I have no need to be released as a ghost I am free to do as I please.įrom the darkness swelling at the corners of the room, a woman steps into the light and my heart feels ready to burst. Anton and Miss Larissa are now free kindred. We are then released of our sires – or rather, Mr. Anton and had wanted him to be a Brujah like himself. But it seems that the Prince had eyes for Mr. Anton engage in some male banter pertaining to their desire for one another, that I’m not in a mind to notice much of.
Although I suppose I can’t be too displeased when the favour he bestowed upon me brought me to Angie.
I am sure he, like the doorman, also has many tattoos benefitting his vulgar character. Leslie has taken offence to our respects and does not appreciate good manners. Anton is grinning ear to ear while Miss Larissa looks ready to faint. I am mid-curtsey when the doorman’s head receives a bullet that it spits onto the floor in a gruesome spatter of blood and hot viscera. But I was raised to mind my manners even when I do not think I should have to. When I met him previously, I did not think too highly of him and I certainly do not think too much of him now. Anton, and we bow and pay our courtesies to him. He is older than I (although I do not suspect by much), but younger than Mr. A chair, gilded and inlaid with plush velvet is at the centre back of the room. Through the large wooden doors at the back is a grand hall with chandeliers above and ornate tables and chairs arranged around the room. The inscription reads ‘Leslie Taylor President 1915-1922’. The portrait is of a well-fed man with thinning black hair and piercing green eyes. Paintings line the wall, all turned wall-side save for one. Upstairs is a picture gallery that I have seen many times before although every time I do, the paint is somehow more flaked and peeling. He informs us of the rules (mustn’t use powers, no violence, no killing, bow upon entering, stand at our seats, bow again…) and we enter. The other doorman is much kinder, but he is not the same as the time before last and I wondered what happened to that one. Nanny had tattoos too but they were white like scans and could only be seen under beams of moonlight. It is ugly and old and all the ink has already bled out of it. He has a particular tattoo on his chest: a V with a hideous slash through it.
I am hardly surprised – a man such as that, covered in tattoos like a seafarer. The doorman is there to greet us but he is quite ill-mannered.
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