Aug 292010
 
Cue Beethoven String Quartet in C# Minor Op 131 No 6

Beethoven…the counterpoint of the violin and viola, the sweep of the cello, such longing…such passion…real love…
�Sir?�
Such an intense, lonely, isolated, haunting…ahh…now they weep together…
�Sir?�
Oh the sorrow of it…
�Sir?�
Johannes Nacht jerked free of his reverie.  Alfred hovered at his shoulder in the private box above the small concert hall, gently nudging him.
�They�re superb, aren�t they Alfred?  The conservatory�s finest, I�m told.�
�They are exceptional sir, the audience seems quite enthralled.�  he paused for a moment, but interrupted with another nudge when he saw his master falling back into the rapture that sometimes took hold of him, �Sir, the mayor and his wife have arrived and were asking after you before you went on stage.  The Prince and Seneschal are also here – in their box.  She wishes to speak with you as well.�
�Hrm.  It�s going to be a busy night.  Herman�s planning on making an appearance as well.�  Johannes let out a deep sigh, stood, straightened his tuxedo, and lit his face with his most endearing smile.
�Thank you Alfred, see the mayor in if you please.�



�Johan!�  The mayor and his wife stepped into the box, handing Alfred their coats as they passed.
�Good evening Kurt, Lady D�nicke, you look lovely this evening.  Please sit, you must listen to this quartet…�



During intermission, Johannes stood with the mayor of Liepzig on a tiny wrought-iron balcony looking out over the street, nursing cigars in the chill.
�I need a victory, my friend, and this ordeal over the bank affair last month is dragging on too long.�
�Oh?�
�We�ve got evidence against Wilhelm Schnect, we know he was there.  The chief wants to bring him in.�
Johannes took a long puff from his cigar, rolled the smoke around in his mouth for a moment,  ï¿½You know you�ll never get a charge against him to stick, his family will lean on you and yours until you let him go.�
�That�s why I�m talking to you…�
Nacht laughed then, a finely-crafted and highly-calculated laugh designed to give the impression of incredulity and embarrassment, �Kurt, I�m just a piano player, what do you think I can do?�
�I don�t know, Mr. Piano Player, but I do know that I�d be extremely grateful to the man who helped me score a victory and put this bank business to bed.�
The men stubbed out their cigars and clambered back through the tiny doors and into Nacht�s private box.  ï¿½I�ll remember that, Kurt.  Ahhh!  Lise – I know how much you and your husband adore Rembrandt, I have just this week come into possession of one of his earlier works – it�s destined for auction in Rome, but I�m sure we could come to a fair price between us and avoid all that hassle…�



Cue “Kaiser” Quartet in C Major – Mov. 2/4
Johannes quietly entered the box and sat down next to his Prince and her Seneschal.  
�The police are digging too deep into the bank heist last month,� the woman said, without turning away from the performance.  
Johannes let a flicker of surprise cross his face, �What, you too?�
�One of my people initiated the job with Herman.  The investigation needs to end.�
�And how should I…�
The Prince turned to him and shot him an icy glare, �Don�t play games with me, Johan, you�re the information broker, have the conversations, make it happen.�
Johannes bowed his head slightly.  ï¿½As you wish madam.  If you�ll excuse me, I go on after this set.  Paul, good to see you.�



Cue Chopin Fantasie Impromptu Opus 66 in C# Minor
He strode out onto the small stage, chin high, and swept onto the bench without a single glance to the audience.  The applause was manic and just beyond the edge of propriety for classical performance.  He began the Chopin.  He tried with all his might but found his own performance passionless and hollow, yet he audience was enthralled.  He closed his eyes and extended his sphere of influence into the crowd just as the piece swelled, and there was an audible gasp from the crowd as they all fell under his sway.  Men wept, women became flushed.
False love.



Much later, he stood next to the piano in his room, naked in the candlelight, playing the melody of the Beethoven on his old violin.
Passionless, hollow.
Both the men and one of the women were passed out on the large bed that dominated the room, all looking just the slightest bit pale.  The other two women watched him, entranced, idly fondling themselves and occasionally each other.  
False love.
�That�s from earlier isn�t it?� said the redhead quietly.  She was a regular, one of the service staff who worked the club.  Johannes didn�t respond, lost in his frustrations.  She stretched languorously on the bed.  ï¿½I�ve always loved Mozart,� she purred, spreading her legs shamelessly.  
Nacht gave her a sad, chagrined smile, set the violin carefully back into its cradle, threw a silken robe over his shoulders and strode out of the room.
�Beethoven,�  murmured the brunette, pouting and giving the redhead a weak shove, �it was Beethoven.�



As he left his room, Johannes gave three quick taps on Alfred�s door across the hall.  It was a code between them that said: when you�re finished with whatever or whomever you�re doing, please get those people out of my room.  He strode down the stairs and through the narrow hallways that formed a warren of small rooms at the back of the club.
He turned a corner to find two younger Kindred facing each other off, fangs were out, one was snarling.  Johannes gave a polite cough into his hand.  They both swung towards him, so amped up they intended fully to tear apart whoever had interrupted them, but when they saw Nacht, they both paled and bowed their heads slightly.
�Do you know who I am?� he said quietly.  They responded with some muttered yessirs.
�Do you know where you are?� he asked again.  They both nodded, looking increasingly sheepish.
�Do not ever again forget it,� Nacht snarled, then pushed past them down the hall.



He walked into small dressing room unannounced, where on a couch sat the extremely corpulent form of Herman, puffing on a hukka and receiving extremely vigorous fellatio from a girl a third his age.  Johannes swept into the room and settled on a stool in front of the make-up table and gave the man a blank look.
�Johan, my good friend!� Herman said jovially, �It�s so good to see you!  Would you like a taste?  The tobacco is soaked in cognac for a year!�
Nacht remained motionless, continuing to stare.
�Would you like a taste of Greta perhaps?  Greta, go take care of Mr. Nacht….�
The stare didn�t falter.  Herman�s smile, erection, and mood did.
�Greta, darling, give us a minute.�  The girl stood, gave a curtsy to Johannes, and saw herself out.  Herman grumpily grabbed a robe and tossed it over himself.  ï¿½Fine, there, now what do you want?�
�The police have made Wilhelm for the bank job.�
Herman snorted.  ï¿½So?  They can�t make it stick, they won�t!�
�The chief and the mayor have the bit in their teeth, Herman, they�re not going to back down.�
�Uhn.  They can waste all the time they want, in the end it will be the same.�
�The whole ordeal needs to go away.  You give them Wilhelm, it will go away.�
�Har!  I�d rather watch them squirm!  And what is it to you, Johan?  This is a peculiar favor you ask, even for you….�
Johannes sighed.  ï¿½Your employer for the job was an associate of Klara�s.  She wants the investigation put to bed.�  
Herman gulped.
�So,� continued Nacht, �you�re going to give them Wilhelm.  I�ll come to your place tomorrow night and convince him not to give away the farm when he�s interrogated.  The whole thing will go away, and everyone will be happy.�
�Except for Wilhelm.�
�Indeed, except for Wilhelm.  He shouldn�t have left so much of himself behind.�
�I never liked him anyway.�
�That�s the spirit, Herman.�
Johannes rose and took his leave, holding the door open for Greta as she bounced back into the dressing room to continue her task.


Johannes sat in his robe at the bar in the empty concert hall.  Despite the late hour, Alfred appeared, poured a drink out of a small bottle behind the counter and set it in front of Nacht, who looked from it to Alfred with a raised eyebrow.
�You can drink it, sir.  Something special I put together this afternoon with you in mind.�
Nacht cautiously took a sip, seemed to like what he tasted, and then a longer drink.  The world swam around him for a moment, but then he heard music, the most grand themes, passionate swells, an orchestra dancing with itself in the night.  He had to cling to the bar to keep from swaying off the stool.
�Alfred…oh Alfred my friend, thank you…what is this?� he gasped as he lost himself in the experience.  Alfred helped his master stand, and slowly guided him back up the stairs and to his room, where he lay on the bed, eyes fluttering to and fro as the music filled his head.  
�Alfred…,� he gasped, �who…where…?� At that, Nacht seemed to fall into a still sleep.
Alfred smiled a melancholy smile.  
�It�s what we hear, sir,� he said quietly.

�It�s you.�

Aug 192010
 

Yeah, yeah, I said I’d never buy another RP book, but I went ‘n’ dun it.  After reading or glancing through the main books in PDF format, I decided I may as well get the “real” thing.  So, after looking around my local hobby shop, I found someone willing to sell their used books for a great price.  I got the main World of Darkness book, as well as Vampire: The Requiem, Mage: The Awakening and Werewolf: The Forsaken from a guy here in town.  He also threw in Antagonists and Second Sight for a grand total of 40 bucks.  Some of the bindings are a little worn, but other than that, I feel pretty good about my purchase. I have a feeling that we’ll be using them all at some point.

 I just need to find a good used copy of the new Changeling and Hunter books and I think I’m set.

Aug 182010
 

Science! Science! Everywhere I go I hear the prattle of Science!  The Science of the Mind.  The Science of Physics, Calculus and Art. The Science of Transportation, Food and Love. The Science of Race.

 

The Science of Spirit.

 

At long last, our project may be a reality, and I now fear more than ever for our future.

 

What we foresaw as a means of controlling mortal minds, now may be a weapon used against Us.  What we hoped would preoccupy, now threatens to expose the very nature of our existence.  We must hide ourselves from the probing violation of Science.  For Science has come full circle and has taken hold of Religion once again.

 

Look around the Continent now.  The wonder of the pre-war years, a gentle mixture of fancy, myth and Progress has all but faded now.  Where clear distinctions were thought to finally be coming about, now, one has invaded the other.  Science was on the verge of clearly defeating Religion. Where once the Church, Kepler and the Grimm Brothers lived in happy disregard for one another, now there are True Alchemists.  Coming is an age of the likes Johann Konrad Dippel; men with feet in Two Worlds, ruling both!

 

On the surface, you may, my friends, see this as a good thing, as a restructuring of the mortal mind. The integration of Our World and Their World.  We will all live in happy coordination, as some of the followers of the Twisted Cross are fond of saying. But, I fear, this will not be case.

 

Mark my words, when this Hitler holds all of Germany in his fist–and it will be soon–we will all tremble and pray for the return of crippled kings whose childish fascination with luck and little fairy women are harmless and dismissible. The gods of old will return and none will find peace amongst the teeming Sleeping masses.

 

Already we have heard rumors of his power.  The Vienna Cabal have, according to rumor, tried to snare him twice, and the sod just slipped through their fingers, despite the fact that they have made it clear they believe he is to be a new Muhammad. When Hitler appeared in Munich, it was our Colleague in the Arts Dietrich Eckart who was there to attempt a Magickal solution.  While, as we all know, Eckart did pass on some secret knowledge, it is not clear to what degree Hitler could actually be contained.  Some force, perhaps, his “Providence”–but who knows what beings this really refers to–guides him.  To what end, I am unsure. 

 

I only foresee much anguish in Our World due to this little man.

 

I fear most for the Old Ones–the shapeshifters, faeries and nightstalkers–for they are not as adaptable as we.  They are not as Human as we.  The Universe itself keeps us in the check, but of the others, the Sleepers alone define the boundaries of their existence.  They will be no more than the Jews, Communists and Antisocials before the Nazis and there will be nothing their Powers can do to stop it.

 

So, hide yourselves.  Hide well.  Let Us disappear into vague half-memories and cloudy nightmares or this new threat will gobble us up. For, if We are found out, We will be ground to a pulp, our Blood and Spirit used to fuel insane dreams of Thousand Year Nightmares.

 

Anonymous Letter to the Editor

The Eastern Star Magazine, Feb. 1st, 1933 [a few days after Hitler becomes Chancellor]