Modus Operandi

Prologue: Tutelage

A little less than four years since the nearly catastrophic events surrounding the Ankaran Sarcophagus, and Los Angeles had settled quite a bit. There was... a peace, of sorts, or at least an equilibrium that had been reached -- largely through the efforts of the fledgling, whom even Tung had to admit he had not expected to turn out the way they had. L.A. had been a powder keg, and yet somehow most if not all of the fires had banked, and the Camarilla had cautiously settled back into the city under Prince Sebastian LaCroix's leadership.

Peace in L.A. didn't guarantee a more widespread peace, of course. And in early September of 2008, in New York City, the unthinkable happened and a singular piece of the Masquerade was blown wide open.

It didn't have anything to do with Kindred. It wasn't the Garou that did it; the mages didn't get caught out, no mummies or ghosts or zombies were caught on camera, and it had nothing to do with those weird changelings or demons. It had been building quietly for a few months, actually, with chatter from the New York Nosferatu over the summer containing more than a few mentions of helping an oblivious "local crime-fighting cryptid" operate under the radar.

Not easy, Foureyes had noted over SchreckNet. Multiple cops have seen this guy but we got him downgraded to a rumor, lol.

Well, the rumor was out of the bag in a big way.

Superheroes and supervillains! If you'd asked Tung even half a year ago, he wouldn't have guessed that would be the big, Masquerade-threatening issue. But as 2008 crept to an end, almost embarrassed about the spectacle it contained, he kept an eye on the New York City papers as well as on SchreckNet gossip, and it was only getting more ridiculous with absolutely no sign of getting better.

When Spider-Man actually wound up helping destabilize the city -- admittedly by at least drastically inconveniencing maybe the biggest crime boss in their history, but stable was stable -- and Doctor Octopus's Sinister Six started making big moves, talk really started heating up with rumors about how the Kindred in charge might try to handle things, and Tung finally took things to the Prince.

He liked LaCroix, honestly. His default baseline was to like Ventrue, particularly those who stepped up to take charge, because they inevitably seemed to. Trying to lead Kindred was like trying to herd cats, and he didn't actually envy anyone that coveted position. And LaCroix, even with her rocky start, was a good one. During that first year or so she'd seemed to have everyone and everything working against her, and she'd still grimly tried to steer this thing; now that she actually had support she was starting to really show just how good she could be for the entire L.A. area.

(Particularly with Sunday Latimore's help. That fledgling was scary talented. But it had also helped a lot when Nines Rodriguez had finally come on-sides, and -- Tung had to admit -- when Gary Golden had skipped town after being implicated in working with the Sabbat. Barabus had taken over the Nosferatu Primogen position, and he was a lot better at it.)

So he felt a lot better leaving for a while. He didn't need to ask permission for that, obviously, but he thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to give LaCroix a heads-up. Even with Hollywood no longer an absolute mosh pit of hunters, Santa Monica fully Camarilla now with Therese as the Malkavian Primogen, the Anarchs as at least wary allies and the Sabbat holding a begrudging, silent truce, things could go bad fast and losing a Harpy -- and an Elder Nosferatu from an already tiny Warren -- could hurt.

"You've been keeping an eye on the situation in New York." Tung made it clear what he was there to talk about without preamble; it was a statement and not a question, a clear sign of faith in LaCroix not only being clued in these days but also having her finger on the pulse (to use a less-than-applicable metaphor, with them) of potential dangers to Kindred as a whole, rather than just those in her own domain.

"Yes..." Not that long ago, LaCroix would have been incredibly stressed by this. Now she was a bit grim, which was understandable, but also a lot more confident in her ability to handle things even if they went wrong. It was a nice improvement. "None of these superpowered humans seem interested in keeping a particularly low profile."

"I'd like to go take a look at the situation myself. If they keep on like this, someone is going to do something stupid and drastic trying to take care of it, and at this point, that's not going to help anything."

LaCroix sighed. "No. After months in the news, constant public displays, there will be no pretending this particular aberration from the human norm doesn't exist. It will be unfortunate having you gone, of course." But she obviously wasn't going to argue to keep him there -- or worse, try to order him. He'd known she wouldn't, but he appreciated the not-so-subtle reminder that he was valued.

"Oh, I'll be back," he promised her. "I'm definitely not looking to move to New York any time soon. The leadership there is a mess." Even now, he could clearly see her brighten at the implicit compliment to her own leadership; LaCroix was incredibly emotionally open for a Ventrue and still seemed slightly hungry for positive feedback. "I'm gonna take Knox; we'll see what we can do about the situation and be back before things have time to implode here."

That was obviously a joke, and LaCroix smiled, cautioning lightly herself, "Please, don't tempt fate."

He took his leave, riding the elevator all one hundred (and one) stories down to the basement entrance. Installed especially for his clan, now that LaCroix's doorman was a ghoul (and Chunk, from the few times they'd spoken, was charming with a lot of hidden depths in Tung's opinion), it was possible for Nosferatu like Sunny to walk the streets and come in through the front doors. Tung's face was not one that would get just a few glances, though; the change affected some more than others, and while Tung wasn't as blatantly nonhuman as someone like Nikolaus Vermeulen or Cock Robin, he couldn't be easily explained as a sick person or a body modder either.

The only stop he actually needed to make now was the Warrens. Much like with Prince LaCroix, Tung didn't actually need to ask his Primogen's permission to leave. That wasn't how things worked. But it was best to at least let him know... especially since Barabus was the only other Nosferatu in the L.A. area that was more than a decade into unlife. This place had been dire before 2005, honestly.

Barabus was new to California -- new to America, honestly, before the Sarcophagus incident -- but he was doing a damn good job as Primogen. LaCroix had done well to fill the holes left after the shake-up in late 2004, and then some: Nines had stepped up as the Brujah Primogen, at first wary but now noticeably warmer (though she'd become noticeably warmer the moment Smiling Jack had gone, Tung had noted that with interest); Therese (and Santa Monica) had officially gone Camarilla and accepted the position of Malkavian Primogen, and was at least doing better than Grout; Strauss was still Tremere Primogen and Francis St. Martin the Ventrue Primogen, but former Toreador Primogen Thomas de Lutrius had been killed before the final remnants of the Hunter nest in Hollywood had been taken care of and Ash Rivers of all people had filled that void. Even if it was half to spite Isaac, as Tung had initially expected, he was doing the job gamely.

No one outside the clan knew exactly how badly the Hollywood Warren was faring even now, though. Oh, it was a lot healthier now, enough so that Tung was actually seriously considering Embracing Knox very soon; he might have a few months ago if he hadn't had a feeling about this supers situation in New York, like he should wait and see just a little longer. That wasn't the issue.

The issue was numbers.

L.A. was a pretty small domain Kindred-wise in the first place, admittedly. There were probably around thirty Camarilla and Anarch Kindred combined here, and while Tung obviously didn't have the Sabbat numbers he wasn't willing to bet that they had more than two or three dozen themselves, not accounting for shovelheads. There were only about ten actually local Giovanni. So maybe seventy-five at the outside, spread across Los Angeles County. For a domain with well over nine and a half million people that was nothing; the war with the Kuei-Jin really had ravaged basically all of California.

But there were only five Nosferatu in the entire Warren. Five. Three of them were just pups, and there were a total of two ghouls between them, one of whom Tung wasn't sure wanted to be Embraced Nosferatu or at all yet.

Los Angeles was a much better domain than it had been back during Don Sebastian's reign, but because of everything it had been through since, it was also a much younger one. The Anarchs in general had been there for ages, but all the specific Anarchs that had both survived and stayed were neonates; the Camarilla had five elders at best and Tung had a feeling there weren't actually many more hanging out even in the higher ranks of the Sabbat, and both sects had only been in the city for a little over five years now.

The Warren was stable, but Tung disappearing for a while meant there would be an even bigger dearth of experienced Nosferatu in the city, and barely any network there at all. Unfortunately, that was unavoidable. But Barabus being informed meant that he would know to be on top of things even more than usual.

"I could call in a favor from the Las Vegas Nosferatu," he offered, after explaining where he was heading off to. "One or two of them owe me." But favors were valuable coin among Kindred in general and maybe especially their clan, and he wasn't surprised when Barabus shook his head.

"No need. Between the four of us, we've got it handled. Just don't put down any roots, all right?"

"I'll try not to," Tung promised wryly, smiling at him. It wasn't going to be a problem, he knew that, and he had a feeling Barabus did too. New York City was... infamously messy. Not in the same ways Los Angeles had been, and some would say better, but Tung privately thought much worse. At least now that every Kindred here wasn't at risk from the Kuei-Jin.

"Good luck." Barabus was more sober, silvery eyes sharp. He was damn good to have around; he'd been through a lot even just these last few years. "Don't know what that lot in New York's thinking, letting it get this bad and trying to make a move now. They're lucky to be getting a visit from somebody who has things together."

"It might not be as bad as all that," Tung reassured, though he couldn't honestly say he wasn't troubled by that himself. It was less for Barabus and more for the Nosferatu he had a feeling was listening in -- probably Imalia, but maybe Mitnick, and it was for their sake too that he added, "Just because it pays to listen to rumors doesn't mean they always come to anything. The New York City Kindred haven't made a move for months, they might not make a move now."

Barabas allowed that he had a point, and whoever had been listening in was gone when Tung moved through the tunnels to find Knox. It was nice to feel like he could freely come back here, even nicer to feel like it wasn't a terrible idea to bring his own ghoul anywhere near the Warren, though Tung still split his time between Hollywood and Santa Monica. Sunday had a room there now, too, but still spent most of their time in downtown L.A., treating the Warren more like a vacation home or a convenient place to stay if they was in the area and didn't want to make the trip all the way back before dawn.

Speak of the devil, though; Knox was hanging out in Sunny's room, chatting happily with them and their ghoul Simon Milligan. Simon was an interesting guy, and Tung approved of Sunny's choice in ghouling him for a lot of reasons. Saving him from a Nagaraja, of all things, was a demonstration of Sunday's kindness, determination, and ludicrous power and skill even in their earliest nights. No one had thought to tell them what should be impossible, so they'd spent their initial month of unlife doing way too much of it before anyone had really caught on.

"Hey." Knox was pleased as ever with his return, greeting him with the same affection she'd had for the past few years now, and Tung echoed her equally warmly; Sunday was themself nearly as happy to see him, it seemed, brightening and giving a shrapnel grin.

"Bertram, hi! Did your meeting with LaCroix go okay?" They didn't even know what the meeting had been about, just that he'd been dropping in to talk with her about something; odd for a Nosferatu, Sunny was fine letting people keep their secrets and didn't much mind admitting they didn't know something. Still, they was proud when they did pull those things out and sly when they had obviously spied or heard something more clandestine, mischievous with their skill when it seemed like they'd been underestimated. Maybe Knox was rubbing off on them.

"It went fine," he assured. "It was just a check-in, sweetheart. But it also means I'm not staying long. Knox, we're going to be heading to New York for a while; we should probably leave in a day or two and we'll be gone for at least a few weeks, so pack what you need."

"Yeah, of course." Knox's complete lack of hesitation was heartwarming, was what it was, even for someone who's heart hadn't beat in over four hundred years.

"You're going to New York?" Sunday's curiosity, their hunger for understanding, was as strong now as ever; they practically perched at the edge of their bed, legs curled underneath themself. "Is this about the people with superpowers?"

An example of how checked into things they actually was. Tung didn't hide that he was a bit impressed, smiling at them. "That's right."

"Sounds like something out of a movie to me," Simon volunteered, only a bit cautious among them all now. He'd started out obviously intimidated, a bit frightened, by all Kindred other than Sunny, and was still a bit overawed by Barabus as head of the Warrens. But it had been hard for him to remain too alarmed by the 'baby vampires' Mitnick and Imalia, and he'd warmed fast to Knox; he hadn't seemed to know how to feel about Tung at first, and Tung suspected he'd have been intimidated longer and more strongly if Tung didn't make it a habit to be calm, amiable, and informative. Simon often still kept quiet and listened in Kindred discussions instead of offering his own two cents, but sometimes, like this, he spoke up, and Tung felt that was all to the good. "I think your Toreador could have gotten a handle on things if they'd made a move sooner."

"And if the supers had worked with us on that," Tung noted. "But you're not wrong. At this point even if they played along, there's no way to patch this part of the Masquerade completely. We need to work with it. Unfortunately, I think some of the New York Kindred might want to try something soon -- too little, too late, and a lot too risky."

Sunday frowned. "I wish I could help, but I want to stay in Los Angeles for now..."

"Believe me, that would be helping. It's easier to step away when I know you and Barabus will be keeping an eye on the city. Besides, a lot of this is going to be a job for ghouls. It's just lucky I haven't Embraced Knox just yet."

Knox looked up from where she was looking through her bag and grinned.

"Could you use my help?" Even Simon looked a little surprised by his words, but only for a moment, and he explained, "I don't know what you're planning, but if you could use some special effects, I know a few tricks. And I'm pretty good at making connections."

"Oh man, yeah. You and I could get away with running in different circles easy," Knox noted.

"It would be useful to have another ghoul around," Tung admitted. He looked over to Sunday. "You all right with that, cupcake?"

"I don't mind it. I'm glad you know you have that kind of freedom," Sunny shared with Simon. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I won't be going into any abandoned hospitals, that's for sure," Simon said, and glanced over to Tung. "At least, not alone. Thanks. I admit, I'd like a chance to see how another city works with all this... Kindred stuff, anyway."

"Not a bad idea," Tung allowed, though he privately added that New York City might be a lot. Still, an example of a city that wasn't running as well as Los Angeles could be valuable in its own way.

So long as he kept Simon safe, which he intended to... Well, with what he planned to ask of Knox, having the help of another ghoul really would come in handy.

"I'll arrange something with St. Martin," he said. "You two get ready for a trip. And about that offer," he said to Simon. "I can think of a few ways special effects could come in handy..."