Eugene "Brody" Wright | Love Cassandra Goodchild | Rasa; April 5-6, 2009
Love Cassandra Goodchild; April 5, 2009
Goal: Help Rasa to locate Zappelphillip for the purposes of arranging a meeting.
Cassandra and Rasa had a brief discussion in which she tried to explain the situation with Zappelphillip and the importance of finding him before the rest of the Camarilla did, lest they kill him before he can achieve "True Reality" in Rasa's words. In the course of conversation, Columna manifested to deal with Rasa's suggestion that Zappelphillip be physically killed that he might ascend to part of higher consciousness. Columna has grudgingly assented to this, and assumes Cassandra would not undestand (She probably would). They are willing to help Rasa in his endeavor.
As such, Cassandra/Columna is attempting to use her limited powers of network manipulation to try to aid Rasa in finding Zappelphillip. She's tries flying sober this time, and tries to focus on the project for half an hour to an hour each night for the remainder of the week.
Her basic modus operandi for this Zappelmission is to try to find the correct Zappelchord in Zappelbrainspace and re-realize him as the errant Prince in a psycho-dramatic brain-production of Dvorak's The Rusalka. In this reenactment, she is assigning herself the role of the foreign princess, Rasa the role of the Rusalka and Pangloss as the witch. The Gastronome that lives inside of Rasa's brain gets to be the Water Gnome... because...they're both gnomes and all.
The idea is to create a psychic allegory in which Rasa's calls to Zappelphillip represent a desire for a reunification with the concept of eternal love, as represented by Rasa's need to devour all his clan mates into a singularity - an emotion which mirrors the Rusalka's desire for her errant lover and which should hopefully resonate with Zappelphillip's self-destructive impulses toward "enlightenment."
Cassandra, in that she feels regret for her betrayal of Zappelphillip in the Miranda Turner incident, takes on the role of the absent rival that initially helped to divide the Prince from his true betrothed. Pangloss, as a supernatural element external to the actors of the play takes on the role of the lake witch. She includes Pangloss, not out of necessity, but rather to extend his cover such that Rasa won't suspect he is not an involved member of the Clan.
She also just likes making sure her metaphorical fictions don't leave anybody out.
Further actions with this may occur if she can get sane input from Danny (whom she suspects deals with people who might actually have seen the NYC Met production running through March). This action may also be impacted by any changed Rasa might make to his plan, as Cassandra is generally willing to defer to him.
Love is short. Grief will be long. All sacrifices are futile!
Every madman needs a soapbox to stand on, for then they can spout their tyrannical views upon the world, and there they can pretend to be significant for the few moments before they are brought before the mob and executed. [[An image of an opera house flashes before you.]] Perhaps you will grant me those moments. Then again, perhaps I am not a madman.
Ah, the Rusalka. [[An image of a small woman, fragile, stunted, vicious, savage.]] Could I know love again, except for the one who is gone? Will *I* choose to? Perhaps not as long as I remain here. Perhaps not as long as she is present in my memories. We live forever.
But if we die, we die alone, just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us. Just like the rest of us.
I DON'T WANT TO DIE I REFUSE I CANNOT I HAVE TO LIVE LOVE TRANSCEND THIS PAIN WHICH IS MY OWN I AM FOOLISH WHAT IS GOING ON THESE HANDS THEY'RE MY HANDS THEY'RE MY HANDS WHAT AM I TO DO WITH THESE HANDS
[[His hands reach out. They are sensitive, almost like a lover's touch. A mess of wires enters your field of vision."
...And suddenly, you are everything. Which is to say you are nothing. There is not much more.
Flawed. Fragility. Prosperity. These thoughts which ruminate. What do you want? What do you want? [[A wall, scribbled in indecipherable writing.]]
This is where it all ends.
Rasa; April 6, 2009
Summary: Rasa intently focuses himself on finding ZapplePhilip's pulse in the network. He spends the rest of the week doing so, with a goal towards 1) having a vague idea of ZapplePhilip's location and 2) learning how much Awareness Zapplephilip has. While doing this, he consults with his masters as to their thoughts, curious as to their directions.
- Awareness x 5
- Ability Aptitude: Awareness
- Mentor x 5
- Disembodied Mentor
Trees flickered by, the small jerks and bumps of the car coming into Rasa's being through the plate of glass his face was pressed against. Memories not his, of winters long past and half-forgotten floes, flitted through his mind as his tongue rolled out of his mouth, the tip drawing against the dirty glass.
Though the small questions, demands, pleas and insights of his masters never ceased, he could hear beyond both his ears and his mind, connected to the great weave of his family through the pulse of his veins. Eyes struggling to create light enough to banish the darkness of the world. A coin with two faces, one smiling, the other glaring. An emptiness where there should have been another. Their presence reassured the man in him, though he sought something else.
A flowing river of notes, ebbing and flowing in pursuit of perfection. Echoes of Austria's glory brushed past his deepest skin like a shower of parchments against wet ligaments, as she recalled the power of that moment they had shared. Yet, his song was ever-changing. Identifiable only by its dynamism...
Looked after by his aged caretaker, the elder's mind trickled through the cracks of his kinsmen, heeding only the trail of that protean melody, and the call of those who had formed him.
He is unaware of your presence, quietly observing him. A swirl of colors and voices, waves of light and sound echo about the blackness of the room. From the quiet murmurs, you can hear... German. Götterdämmerung.
There is focus to his thoughts. He allows the waves of despair to wax and wane over him, but still his focus does not waver. For a brief moment, his mind touches yours, and suddenly you feel everything.
Beethoven, Schubert, Liszt, Wagner, Verdi, Dvorak, Tchaikovsky, Debussy. All significant. All meaningful. What does he hear?
He observes you observing him. The connection is cut.
[[From the images, you get the impression that Zappelphillip has been haunting various opera houses. He also has at least 3 Awareness.]]
Eugene "Brody" Wright; April 6, 2009
Stealth x 5
(This is likely more of a High Society thing)
Brody's looking at Orchestras, Operas, and other sorts of musical installations that correspond with Zappelphillip's presence in the city.
He is applying the P.I. skills, and looking for signs of anything out of the ordinary - especially if anyone shows signs of maybe being a little crazy or anything.
Assuming he gets anything, he'll continue looking for a pattern. Busts out the trusty old Bulletin Board, thumbtacks, and red string, and has a go trying to triangulate this with addresses that Phil's been linked to.
Grasping at straws, really - but doing so in a fashion that should hopefully not attract any attention.
Goal: Desperate men chase wild geese, it seems. It's astonishing how much nothing Brody has to go on. So he's grasping at some straws.
The hotel in Staten Island was holding a conference by the Schubert Society.
You can look at all of the operas going on in the Metropolitan area here. Investigation into the insanity attendance of these operas shows nothing.
Beethoven's Ode to Joy.
What do all of these have in common...?
Romantic music. Beethoven, Schubert, various operas that are currently performing- Tchaikovsky, Wagner, Verdi...
Perhaps it might be better to bring a Malkavian with you to figure things out. But these operas - they can't just be a coincidence.