Praxis Manchester

It is somewhat early in the evening, and the newly crowned Prince of Manchester rests for the moment in his seat in the Elysium. He pours over several maps, annotating them in the cyrillic script of his homeland. Black and red circles and small notes can be made out. He has sent a call out to his court and his Primogen to meet to discuss the laws of his reign.

The tiered seating seems to be absent from the Elysium, Vukasin having arranged the tables themselves into a single large one with enough room for his Primogen, with a separate table for himself and his court. For the moment, a single hand written page rests on the Primogen table, available for any to read.

"By my hand as Prince and by the will of the Kindred of Manchester, the following are the laws by which our society of kindred may function:

I. Know the Traditions of our kind, and be mindful of them at all times.
II. Do not reveal our secrets to Others.
III. Do not sire more of our kind without permission or need.
IV. Do not destroy others, kindred and kine, without need.
V. Tread softly in the territory of another kindred. You are at their mercy.

So let it be known.

Prince of the City of Manchester,
Vukasin Ilyich"

Ms. Morgana walks in. She wears her usual court garb, but covered by a long black traveling coat, and black sneakers. With a bow to the Prince she says, "Good evening Prince Ilyich. Forgive my slackened appearance, but I plan to leave directly from here to Springfield should our meeting not run to close to the breaking sun. Where might you desire I sit?"

Glancing up from his maps, the Prince gives a faint smile.

"Sit as pleases you, Ms. Morgana," replies Vukasin with a wave of his hand. "I am simply... examining things with a new eye. I will do what I can to keep the meeting brief. I have placed my laws for this city upon that paper. I would like to know what my Primogen feel regarding them."

*Having departed the site of the graffiti, MacGregor enters the Elysium, removing his hat and holding it in steepled hands. He offers a nod to Morgana though his attention is obviously on the newly elected Prince. There's no emotion evident on his features. No urgency or trepidation. Simply a body carrying out its' purpose. Stopping before the Dragon, he stands still and rigid awaiting permission to speak*

There is a lifted brow over a sunken eye, and Vukasin gestures towards the member of the Sanctum.

"Yes, Mr. MacGregor?" asks the Serbian.

Ms. Morgana sits at the right end of the Primogen table, and quickly reads the paper. "Ah I believe it is an excellent start your excellency. I will hold any further comment until the others arrive. Good evening Mr. Macgregor." Morgana bows her head to him, then sits still in her chair and waits. Stillness comes easily to her, and gives her the air of a huntress.

*The Pinkerton nods briefly*

You mentioned Service, your eminence, in your coronation speech. I assume that the previous administration did not provide you a full accounting of my services to Manchester in the short time I've been amongst the kindred since my emergence from torpor. They have been...extensive. In addition, I offer one last service as a gift for the new administration on behalf of the Lancea Sanctum before my upcoming departure to Ireland a task that, I imagine will pull me away for some time...

*His brogue is evident though his tone is completely without inflection. No trace of Beast tugs at the kindred around the Pinkerton but his manner indicates no trace of Man either*

...Prince Ilyich, would I be wrong in assuming you would wish to possess both the last written evidence of Dresden's work as well as insight as to its' nature? Moreover, the last words he penned with his own hand? I should add, your grace, that Dillingers' words and his own infamy may have damned the mans' reputation...but like your Dracula the truth of his aims and its' intent in regards to Kindred evolution could be quite intriguing to one with the interest in exploring them.

*As he finishes the few sentences, he reaches into his inner coat pocket and produces a small scrap of paper that would be quite unassuming if not for the bloodstains. No words seem evident from the side facing up and his fingertips gently press it to the table in front of both he and the newly crowned Prince of Manchester though, it should be added, they do not leave it*

It is not often that desire flashes across Vukasin Ilyich's face. This, however, is one of those times. While he may be the Prince, the Serbian was and is a scholar first and foremost. Seeing just such a reaction from the normally sanguine Nosferatu is a little... offsetting.

"Those documents could be... quite invaluable, Mr. MacGregor, and you would not be wrong in assuming that I wish to possess them," says Vukasin quietly. "But, you would not be... entirely correct. I do not wish to possess them solely for myself. The knowledge could be greatly useful to this city, and to the Covenant of the Ordo Dracul."

The Prince lifts his head to regard the Pinkerton.

"I will be in your debt if you were to give to me and my covenant those documents, Mr. MacGregor. Would you be willing to part with them for a significant boon? Not one of life or blood, but one by which you may request a service? Or is it further recognition beyond your success as our Deputy and the Covenner of the Blessed that you seek?"

*He hasn't blinked since he entered the room. Those pale blue eyes just continue to look ahead occasionally flickering like a moth near a flame as subtle things shift and change in the room or amongst the kindred in it. They're the only evidence he's a mobile creature and not some truly exquisite wax sculpture. That hollow brogue comes from him again in response to the Prince's questions*

The Sanctum prospers as my notoriety grows in Manchester and its' environs, Prince Ilyich. Moreover, I feel it would not be arrogance that prompts me to say that my services to this city in regards to knowledge of, and subsequent nullification of, the various threats and hidden intrigues of this city have contributed much to the overall stability of recent nights. Furthermore, the knowledge I've gained came at great personal cost to myself. A circumstance, I suspect, any Ordo can respect. However, I am not presuming on the will and word of this Court. Should you feel my accomplishments are worthy of recognition, I will accept it...

*He gently pushes the scrap across the table towards the Prince of Manchester before releasing it, his eyes never leaving those of his sovereign*

Should this not be sufficient, as his grace commands, before I leave I will converse with him in private in regards to the information I have surrounding it as given by the death bed confession of his accomplice and my own investigations into the matter.

*He bows slightly before turning towards Morgana. The movements are smooth though his face reveals all the friendliness and emotion of a blank movie screen*

My congratulations to you on your recent appointment Ms. Morgana. Its' heartening that even a castle built on shifting sands can still weather a siege...and in some cases even provide shelter from the desert storm.

"The Sanctum's service, as well as your own, does not go unnoticed, Mr. MacGregor," says Vukasin with a smile. He picks up the paper carefully, and he moves it closer to his chest. At some point, it is lost track of, and is safe. "I would greatly enjoy any knowledge you can give to me, though there is something further that I wish to... offer your Covenant, Mr. MacGregor. It is something that, once some of my other Primogen have arrived, I wish to speak before them."

Vukasin turns towards Morganna as well, lifting a brow finally to respond to her comments about the excellent start, but keeping his peace for the moment.

*The Pinkerton nods slowly and then steps backwards from the table slowly, face towards the Prince for three strides until he turns and moves towards the corner of the room near the door. Wordlessly, he places his hat gently on a nearby chair and stands in place, hands steepled before him. Again, there's none of the little twitches and movements one sees in a human being who is idle...he's utterly still and serene, unblinking eyes staring out at the room*

The door to Elysium flies open unceremoniously, spitting forth a haggard looking David Morgan. "Haggard" might even be a generous term… "looking like shit" would be more accurate. Although it looks like it's been scrubbed vigorously, dried blood stains frolic on the collar of his thermal. On top of that, one of his favorite T-shirts has what looks suspiciously like knife holes peppering it.

Upon entering, David's face wears an expression almost as thrashed as his clothing. What looks like fury is actually just grumpy on a face that already enjoys scowling way too much.

His expression softens out of respect as he addresses the new Prince.

"Your Excellency… good to see you.", says David. He glances over the rules written for the court to see. "Looks good, boss.", is all he says after a few seconds of thought.

His eyes flicker across the room, as he registers the other Kindred present. Information is collated and processed in the compact supercomputer in his skull.

"Ms. Morgana, Mr. McGregor… A pleasure as always."

The words don't match the tone of his voice. Uneducated biker-thug crashes against civilized socialite in a slightly unsettling manner.

David wheels up to the newly appointed table. He looks just a little uncomfortable up at the front of the room, but sets the brakes on his chair, and waits for whatever is needed of him nonetheless.

*The Mekhet nods to Morgan in acknowledgement*

Mr. Morgan...congratulations on your appointment, sir. I cannae say that I recall an instance since my emergence that we have found ourselves together in that I would call particularly pleasurable. Generally, it seems we're always facing some monster or, perhaps worse, enduring some social unpleasantness in the vicinity.

*The tone is light if still lacking warmth. He isn't smiling though anyone listening can see his posture and face aren't reflecting any particular hostility*

Morgana turns her head to greet Mr. Morgan "Good evening Mr. Morgan, it is my pleasure to see you again as well. If you would like to know a tailor that can repair that shirt, I know a supernaturally good one. And I find the best substance to get out bloodstains is salt and soda water. However, if you wish to keep them as memento of battle, then might I say you were them well."

Sheena Zorin enters Elysium, wearing her punk ensemble under a long black leather leather coat. As she walks in she takes her headphones off, pulling them back to rest around her neck, and looks around the room with a hint of a challenge. She then walks up, giving Vukasin a nod. She notices the rules sitting on the table, picks them up, and looks them over with a critical eye. After a minute or two of study, she speaks up.

"So, is this a draft of the new laws?" she says as she raises an eyebrow expectantly.

*MacGregor displays no outward reaction to Sheena's presence though, after allowing her some time to study the laws, offers her a similar nod of polite acknowledgement as Morgan received. No hint of Beast or ire seems to rise to meet her challenging look*

::Siting in a corner of the room C-J hears the conversation begin and starts texting in his phone. After a few minutes he gets up and walks over to the prince.::

"Primogeon Winston will not be in this meeting... or even town again until mid-January. Before Sammy boy left town he charged Clark with a task that has him Pittsburgh. He's now sorting out some mess there."

::C-J says, speaking on behalf of his clan's mate.::

The Beast within David is exhausted from the activities of the recent few days, and as such, barely protests David's casual dismissal(inspecting and flicking away a bit of crusted gore from under his fingernail) of Sheena's unspoken challenge.

After sharing laundry tips and contact information with Morgana, he replies to Andrew.

"Yeah, we haven't had a whole lot of quality time together. Mostly us getting stabbed, set on fire, or both."

David looks as though inspiration has plopped itself down in his head, as he says "Can we make that a thing? Less David Morgan on fire? I can get behind that."

The smirk he wears now, combined with the scowl that usually adorns his face has assured every one of his co-workers at The Union Leader maintains the bare minimum of interaction with him. David wondered briefly what his immortal co-workers ACTUALLY think of him.

Ruth Maddox enters Elysium, wearing her usual garb her face unnaturally pale and eyes sullen, on her head is a pink headband. "Your Excellency. How are you this evening?" she says solemnly. Striding forward she takes a seat next too Morgana.

The Serbian Nosferatu glances between the gathering of his Primogen, seeming mildly pleased that more have arrived. As Sheena regards the draft on the table, he gives a nod to her.

"Yes, those are the laws I intend to bring before the city. The laws of your council, and its authority have been drawn up by Mr. Varney, and he should be taking them to you soon."

There is a glance at David, and a lifted brow.

"If he hasn't already."

Vukasin glances at CJ, and gives a nod. "Thank you for the information. When next you speak with Mr. Winston, please do pass along my regards, as well as my request for him to seek me out the first evening he has returned to Manchester. I would like to know all who sit upon my council."

With that said, he turns his attention towards Ruth. There is a polite dip of his head, and the Prince gestures towards the paper in Sheena's hands.

"Ms. Maddox," he greets her, tone a bit formal. "I am... fine. If a bit tired. There is much work that needs to be done, and I must endeavor to see it done. However, to each task, a time. The document Ms. Zorin holds are the laws by which I intend to govern this city. I would invite your feelings upon them. I acknowledge that they are... short. But they are sufficient, I feel. A long draft of laws and by-laws I do not feel is necessary for our society to function. Are there any questions about those laws?"

Morgana raises a delicate hand to speak. "Your excellency, Prince Ilyich, as a previously said, the laws you propose are great and of course you are right that our society need only be governed by a short list. However, You have said nothing about how you will your Elysium to be kept. Baron Dillinger had his quirks, but some of his laws made sense. Such as no weapons in Elysium. Also, I know your opinion of ghouls is unique from the previous administration, so where do you stand on them entering Elysium? And more personally to me, can my companions come in or are they to wait outside at all times?"

"I do not question your logic, as you are very wise. I merely offer suggestion."

Sheena puts the rule sheet down and thinks a minute.

"It's not a bad first draft, but some of this language could be clarified." She points out article 5, "'You are at their mercy'? That should be cleared up to avoid trouble in the future." she moves her finger up to articles 3 and 4, "And what constitutes 'need' should be defined as well."

She looks it over again, "and I assume Mr. Varney's document on the Council laws will include language for the 3/4ths majority Primogen veto that was discussed prior to your election. I look forward to seeing what he has written up"

The Ventrue looks at the Prince and the other Primogen for reply, expression implacable. Sheena Zorin had obviously come to work.

"I believe need could be defined more clearly as 'all other options have been exhausted'. (ie. you've already brought your case before the Prince and he approved, or in a more immediate need that they were breaking the law(s) and death/injury was the only way to stop them). If clarity is needed at all. Also, I agree that 'at their mercy' is vague, however, what more do you believe needs to be said?" Morgana looked to Sheena with a slight smile. The look of pleasure is not a challenge, but rather that she is please to have some lively debate.

"And as a side note; What is this 3/4 rule that you bring up?"

::C-J snaps a thumbs up at the prince.::

"I'll let him know."

::He says and then turns in time to hear Morgana ask her question.::

"Just the agreement that he made with the movement to make ate he got out votes..."

::He called with a sinister smirk. He then pulled up his sleeve and motioned to his naked wrist.::

"Oh look at the time, I should be going..."

::He said and shuffled his way towards the door.::

" The Primogen Council will be able to veto a decision of the Prince with a 3/4ths majority." she says, looking Morgana in the eyes first, then Vukasyn.

"If you don't define 'Need' now, you'll have to later when someone arguably breaks the rule. If you leave it vague, someone will think they can get away with something. And if they think they can, they will try. Then it will be defined anyway through case law, and someone is probably injured or dead in the meantime."

She places her hands on the table, leaning forward as she speaks. "Is it ever justifiable to destroy another Kindred when you can beat them into torpor? If so, when? If someones trespasses in your haven and they are 'at your mercy?' When a law is allegedly broken, what system of judgement will be used to determine guilt?" She pauses, then adds, "I am not saying we will figure all this out tonight, but we will have to answer these questions sooner or later."

The image of a punk rock Primogen discussing case law and the vagaries of procedure might be amusing if it was anyone else speaking, but Sheena Zorin's presence is dead serious.