2021.09.30 Title Transfer Tax

2021.09.30 Title Transfer Tax
Zago takes the information from Colombe's encounter with the spectre, and then departs, eager to share this information with other members of the Praxis for reasons unknown.
IC Date	2021.09.30
Players	Colombe, Zago
Location	Chateau de Angevine
Spheres	Vampire

When Zago arrives at the Chateau, Emile, Colombe's bodyguard, will be waiting to show the Giovanni into the salon. "The Duchess will arrive presently. Feel free to enjoy the space." This he advises. The grand room is large, seeming so empty, and a bit lonely, like a presence that once graced it is gone.

Zago arrives in an unassuming white Volkswagen, driven by a woman in her early 40s with bleach blonde hair, and accompanied by a burly, hirsute man with olive skin and black curls. These two will wait in the car while Zago continues inside. He spends most of his time waiting looking at the details of the stained glass and the ceiling mural.

Colombe enters from the stained glass doors, with quiet martial grace. She is wearing a short, long-sleeved jacket of black silk brocade over a silky black blouse and tailored black pants. The blouse has a billowy cowl that may be worn loose or as a hood, currently it is down. A smile rises to her lips as she spots Zago looking at the ceiling mural. "Quite something, is it not?" She walks over, greeting him warmly. "Welcome. I'm glad we could finally meet."

"Thank you for having me," Zago says, straightening his cummerbund and his posture when Colombe enters. "And I'm really digging that blouse. How can I help you tonight?"

"I think I've found a haunted house." Colombe offers, getting to the point. "I was going to purchase the land and tear down the place. But before I do, I thought I'd see if you were interested in salvaging what remains. It seems to me a rather wretched soul. Very attached to their home. Very hostile to Kindred --- apparently they were killed by one of us, or at least. That was the claim."

Zago's brow creases as Colombe relates this to him. He looks down at his shoes as he thinks, then looks back up to her. "So, it managed to communicate with you. What sort of things happened when you entered the property? Can you give a few details?"

Colombe beckons for Zago to join her as she turns and walks slowly toward the edge of the dancefloor, approaching a medium-sized sofa that is covered in a rectangular gold, brown, and tan herringbone fabric. She takes a seat. "It was a dark and stormy night. Emile and I had driven to the parcel of land, hoping to check it out as a potential income property. There was a majestic Queen Anne style mansion, quite impressive, but obviously in need of repair. I sought to determine if it was worth salvaging, and so Emile and I went inside. Almost as soon as we began exploring, I thought I saw a shadowy figure --- and that is when it dropped a sizeable armoire onto Emile, nearly crushing him."

"The armoire came through the ceiling, I will add. We determined later that the armoire penetrated two floors, or three if you count the main floor --- falling from the third floor, straight through to the root cellar, or whatever was beneath the house."

Zago winces at the account of the armoire, strolling along to take a seat opposite Colombe. He leans forward to listen. "Good to see it didn't keep him down," he says, looking over to Emile. "Okay. Those are good details. How bad was the storm? And were there any other phenomena? How did it communicate with you?"

Colombe inclines her head lightly, thinking. Emile swallows uncomfortably at the memory. "The storm was not terrible when we arrived, but grew worse as we went farther in. Just before the armoire crashed down, the rain became manic, I suppose, and even started to pool up on the main floor, coming in through the windows. Because I suspected there was an entity squatting in the house, making loud foot steps --- and it seemed that they had supernatural strength and employed mystical means to vanish, I thought it prudent to determine if there was a Kindred squatter, or other creature, lurking within, infringing on the outskirts of the Domain, a possible threat. I freed Emile and we went upstairs --- by now the storm was incredibly loud. I called upon some rats living in the home --- they informed me that the figure I sought was near us, though I couldn't see it. Not until it wrote on the wall --- seeming to grow black told in the form of letters. It didn't want us there. It told us to leave."

Zago listens carefully, nodding along as Colombe describes what happened. Once she's done, he says, "This is not the standard haunting. Wraiths of this sort are best described as professional haunters. They usually don't have many friends, as they make breaking their version of the Masquerade into a profession, even an art." He grins wryly at that. "Dangerous, but not inherently bad."

He leans forward to speak earnestly. "I could rid you of this problem, yes. It would not take long, either. But it would be cruel to the spirit. I know the Sheriff is a medium, and there may well be more among you. Helping the spirit is a more involved process, but one that may well be more rewarding."

Colombe listens, quietly, her expression curious. "You may do what you wish with it. I am unlikely to complete the purchase --- I have another venture picking up, and it will be taking my focus for the near future." She lets that sit, and watches Zago idly, for his response.

"Understandable," Zago says. "If you have the address, I can take it from there. I imagine it was a nasty surprise. The mystique of a real haunting is often overshadowed by how unpleasant it often is. Have you ever encountered the Restless Dead before, Duchess?"

"I have not." Colombe adds, offering a warm smile. "While I am sure that Emile would be happy not to relive the experience, I found it rather fascinating. The thrill of the unknown, the piercing energy emerging from another plane. I would like to watch, if that's ok." Emile shifts uncomfortably. "Emile, you can stay in the car."

"To watch," Zago repeats, putting a knuckle to his chin. "I will do some investigation before making a move," he says. "The situation could develop in a number of ways. Much is still uncertain. But when I or another goes there, I will inform you ahead of time in case you'd like to see it once more."

"Do you think I could help?" Colombe seems surprised. "The wretched creature seemed quite immune to my social graces. Granted, I can move large pieces of furniture, should they find their way tumbling upon us."

"Who better to help a wretched spirit than one whose name moves heaven and earth?" Zago asks, sitting up to regard Colombe with his own sort of lighthearted warmth, despite the subject. "A Wraith is nothing but desire and attachments, and these the Clan of Kings know well. You may be the only one who can help, in the end."

Colombe seems to withdraw a bit, surprised by the light-hearted warmth and casual insight. Not in a bad way. She recovers, smiling back, her expression a bit enigmatic, eyes warming quietly. "Wouldn't that be something." She pauses, then business done, her expression shifts. "I hope you enjoyed the Carlsbad salon last evening --- I have heard the story of Maria's death before. But it never occurred to me before to question their motive."

When the subject of Maria Asuncion comes up, Zago grows more contemplative. "I did. I was simply surprised to hear the account from someone outside my family. Few of the details differ, of course. It was more shocking still to hear a prophecy of Final Nights in a Camarilla salon." He chuckles at that. "Though I will say, the term 'last Cappadocian' stirs complicated feelings within me. I do not bear the Curse of Lamia, despite my pedigree. For it, I was cast aside from view of the Anziani, denied all pride and prestige. It always made me wonder: are their fears justified?"

Colombe listens, her eyes warming and lips pursing as she stifles a slight smile at the mention of the prophecy. She takes a moment to compose a response, for she is in polite company, clearly not inclined to say the first thing that springs to mind. This is made easier when Zago talks about his struggle, and the Cappadocians. Her eyes rest warmly on Zago. "This prejudice strikes me as more of a tell-tale heart, if you will. Or perhaps it is simply that I am inspired by Nino's talk of naming his cat Edgar Allan Purr."

"That does seem like a good way to put it," Zago says. "An uncomfortable reminder to embody, that much is certain. But, that is about as far as that goes, as I'm aware. Well, did you have any further questions for me this evening, Duchess?"

"Nothing specific." Colombe smiles, and stands. "Thank-you for this. I think we could have done it over the phone, but it was nice to get to know you a bit. Something that can be challenging when meeting with a group of peers." She waits for Zago to stand.

Zago stands, straightening out his jacket. "The pleasure was mine," he replies, returning the smile. "Your company is always engaging. Thank you for the invitation."

Colombe nods, in kind. "Travel safely, Mr. Giovanni."