EchoicChamber — Roleplayer Guild

The Kings of the Night were gathered here.

Some were immortals, beings of unspeakable power who had carved their names into the world in much the same way water carves a path through stone. Others were mortals, who had- in some ways, arguably more impressively- wracked up their own fair share of horrors under their belt, who had their names whispered in the dark alongside ghouls’ and demons’. The shadows themselves bowed at their feet. They were gods among men. They were the Council, and they were the top of the top.

And rather predictably, the room smelled so heavily of pride that it permeated the room, clinging to the curtains and becoming just as much of a backdrop as the wallpaper was. It applied more strongly to some than others, of course: that little, smug sense of “I know better. I am the smartest, or the strongest, or both, even. I am a King among Kings- no, a God among Gods.”

Gael was no stranger to pride, himself. His father did so adore that particular sin, and had passed it down to his child the moment that he sired him. But even Gael could recognize that there was hardly any room to strut about feeling superior. They were a collection of big fish in little ponds, and had now found themselves in the biggest pond of them all.

Though not all of them, he conceded, were the same size. Both literally and figuratively.

The Prince Abomination sat at his place at the table, cheek propped up in one hand, idly chewing on a praline cookie he had produced from his bag (he had packed clothes for himself, of course, but the Antichrist had a terrible sweet tooth, and he was well aware that he probably wouldn’t arrive to cabinets stuffed to bursting with candies when he arrived). In order to actually meet the eyes of his fellow council members and not just be left peeking over the table, he had set several cushions on top of his chair, and was perched on them now as the meeting began. Though Dracula didn’t have any plans to run a kindergarten out of his castle anytime soon- to Gael’s knowledge, at least- it didn’t change the unpleasantness about navigating the place as a young boy. He had been forced to let himself get scooped up like a newborn kitten and dragged to the castle if he wanted any hopes of making it to the meeting on time, and even now his collar still reeked of raw fish. 

If Dracula came back, or was replaced, perhaps he could speak to the leader about some improvements to make things slightly less annoying until he was older. Arriving to Cluj-Napoca had been the easy part, as all it had taken to get to the airport was some sniffling and "I lost my daddy"s, but everything else? Absolutely terrible. But that would have to wait for another time. 

First things first was to address the points raised in the room. 

“I must admit, Monsieur Garnier,” Gael began, “that I believe Mr. Talbot and Mr. Marsh have raised good points. We have no reason to think that this Doctor is an enemy, outside of the Count’s disappearance. It could have been a warning or a threat, but we wouldn’t know for sure unless we find the letter. It could even be a test.”

He kicked his legs back and forth as he spoke, taking special care to mind his pronunciation of longer words. There was still something inherently high and babyish about it despite his efforts and articulation, though, softening the edges of some words. 

“And Monsieur- I was hoping to ask you about your plans if the humans tried to trap us.” There was an implied “and of course you would have them”, there. “I, the child, wouldn’t dare think that the genius who trapped the opera house, who ran his sway through Paris, had no plans for the worst case scenario.”

Gael had done a bit of light research on what council members he could. People usually liked knowing that they had been heard of, and he doubted creatures of the night were any exception. Especially with the amount of ego getting waved around like a flag.

“They could agree to give up Paris, yes? But then once we are gathered there, they could destroy it. They have many different toys to use, Monsieur, and not all of us could survive them.”

He could see it now. A gathering in the town square. A party, celebrating their escape from humanity once and for all. And just as the toasts were lifted, the warhead dropped, flattening the city and turning them to ash, and that ash to dust.

The City of Light, forever in darkness- just like how Monsieur Garnier asked. How deliciously ironic.
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Something Forgotten

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