[img]http://i.imgur.com/6it2Rjl.png[/img]

-The Pocket Dimension.

Katarina reclined wearily on one of the leather sofas that dotted the room in which she had made herself comfortable in. Say what you would about Merlin, at least she knew how to make a guest feel at home. Thirst lay on the floor beside her as she looked up at the ceiling, rambling away to herself. Soliloquies were an odd habit of hers, yet they often helped her make sense of the situation at hand. Besides, half the time Katarina was actually talking to her sword, not to simply herself. "[b][color=921111]So much to attend to, so much to catch up on. Four hundred years of human history to read up on, so much to understand. I suppose I should attend that poor man's funeral to thank him for imparting his knowledge of modern society to me. I was [i]hoping[/i] that I would wake up because of a group of attendants, not as a naked museum exhibit, and then to have some people level guns at me, not the wake-up call I was wanting. Speaking of which... I should probably clothe myself in something. Eva got an eyeful, the poor girl.[/color][/b]" Katarina conjured some shadows in front of her and then began to spin them into the form of a loose-fitting gown that would simply afford her a degree of modesty. Katarina wasn't used to the sensation of shadowthread on her skin - it was strangely stimulating, almost akin to a silken dressing gown crackling with energy. Katarina could see the tendrils of shadow slowly snaking their way into the local environment and then dissipating into nothing, and she smiled with satisfaction. "[b][color=921111]I still have it. Four hundred years, and I can still maintain some of my magic. But there's so much I don't know... or can't remember. My masterpiece, my pride and joy, my life's work - the Liber Necronomica. I haven't heard anything of it - it was probably lost in the Fall of Neuhausen, burned along with the Black Library. So many things that I've lost, so much to recover.[/color][/b]"

Katarina relaxed, lying back on the couch and reaching down to pick up Thirst from its place on the floor, when a loud, harsh and grating voice boomed from the screen in front of her. Her knowledge gleaned from the guard's blood told her that this was a television, a device used by modern humans for both entertainment and educational purposes, and its usual programming had been interrupted by some announcement from an organisation. Allegedly, they saw themselves as the guardians of humanity against those that would threaten it, against the supernatural. They had supposedly eliminated the premier counter-supernatural agency responsible for public security in the process, no doubt deeming it superfluous to their requirements. Kat snickered at the short-sightedness of the group's actions; counter-intuitive in the long term, though potentially a source of new recruits disillusioned with their previous commanders' actions, they had also taken the offensive, attacking several areas - high profile targets, they had called them - and no doubt declaring their intentions to the supernatural community. Kat shook her head. It was akin to her actions in the invasion of Pomerania in 1594 - by declaring her intentions to spread her rule into the lands of the Griffon and with her initial salvoes of disease spreading like wildfire, she had instead laid herself vulnerable to attack by those who would seek to bring about the Fall - and ultimately succeed. It was interesting to note their rhetoric - they sounded similar to another individual that she knew of... the hated Plantagenet. 

However, he was no terrorist, unlike these men and women, the Hounds of Humanity. By striking at the government, it was likely that they had drawn the ire of the American leadership - perhaps even the President himself. President. That was a new concept to Kat. The rule of the majority, the tyranny of the common man made manifest in the United States of America. She didn't trust it as far as she could throw it, as far as she was concerned. Rule of the people by the people for the people was doomed - they were too selfish, venal and corrupt to be trusted with power... far better to allow the enlightened to rule over the masses. Though monarchy, too, was riven with problems, it made more sense to her - much of the monarchies' problems were succession-based, and there will be no succession crisis if the King is a vampire, after all! It was why Neuhausen, for all its faults, worked for so long... she was the ruler, her word was law, and she would never require a successor. She would have reigned forever more... were it not for those bloody Polish. Maybe Neuhausen was doomed to fail? She had forgotten that she didn't exist in a power vacuum. Maybe she hadn't counted on the tenacity and resourcefulness of humans.

Maybe it was time for a change. She frowned and hummed to herself, whilst her shadowthread gown flickered and danced about on her body. She remembered dimly a large collection of people a couple of days... maybe even as little as a day before her full awakening. She remembered one of them was different from the others. They were all human, except for this one. A werewolf, someone who could help her regain her lost power, perhaps even her artefacts? Perhaps she could track him down using his life signs. Werewolves were very noticeable compared to regular humans, after all, though quite how she'd go about it she had no idea. She remembered seeing a flyer on the floor; the District Attorney of New York City - some kind of mayoral position or something similar, she reckoned - was a man named Reeves. This man was likely a powerful person, and may have information relating to the werewolf. Perhaps the werewolf was a member of his family? Perhaps *he* was the werewolf?

There was nothing for it. Katarina took up Thirst in her hand once more and made her way towards a portal out of the pocket dimension. She looked at the magical conduits linking the portal to the material realm, and nodded. She stepped through it, and she was ejected into the material realm... It still looked like New York City, but a different part.