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| − | ===Death of a DJ Man===
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| − | On Thursday night I got a text from Gabe asking if I was still looking for Little Jim because he was at the Capitol Club where he was spinning tonight! I told him I'd be there in 5 minutes. When I got in, cover-free, of course, I didn't see Little Jim, nor was there anyone on stage, but it looked like a DJ's equipment was still up there. I asked a guy nearby if he knew what was going on and said that there was a DJ, but must be on break. I waited for about 20 minutes, but he still didn't show up so I decided to go look for him. I charmed my way past security to let me into the back rooms. I'm with the DJ, okay?
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| − | The back area was a hallway with three doors, two on the right. The first one was a restroom and was locked. A guy grumbled from behind the door saying it was occupied. The next door was slightly ajar and peeking in, I could see that it looked like a dressing room. I saw a mirror and there was a message scrawled in what looked like red lipstick on it, but it was backwards so it must be a reflection. I poked my head inside and to my horror, saw that it wasn't lipstick at all... unless some weird brand makes drippy, copper-smelling lipstick. It was another message written in blood. This time it said "Dialogs? Ascend to the Void abomination!" On the floor in front of the dressing table was a woman lying in a pool of what looked like her own blood. In the corner of the room, there was a knocked over chair and a pair of legs sticking out so I crept over there to confirm what I already knew. It was Gabe. He had a stake through his chest and his skin was shriveled up starting around his mouth. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!!
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| − | I knew Gabe was Invictus so I whipped out my phone and called Blade. Dammit! Straight to voicemail. Can't a damn elder make sure his phone is charged?!?! I left a hasty voicemail saying it was an emergency and to call me back as soon as he could. I stepped out of the room to look for a back entrance and found one, but it was patrolled by a security guard. I had no trouble convincing him to let some people in if they had the code word "orange" and to direct them to the dressing room. I went back to the room after making the arrangements and sent a mass text to Mike, Vince, and Xavier saying it was an emergency and to come to Capitol Club right away to the back entrance with the code word. As I paced around the room waiting for them, it crossed my mind that the guard must think I have some strange and varied tastes in men considering the party who was about to show up.
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| − | Xavier was the first to arrive. He took one look around, got some stuff from his car, and asked me to stay out of the room while he documents the scene. Mike was next to show. I told him what was going on and he asked if I was okay. I asked him to stand guard here because I was curious what the other room was. When I opened the door, I saw a man and a woman seated on a couch inside and the man demanded what the hell I wanted. I hastily apologized and let them do their lines in peace. Vince arrived shortly after and as soon as I filled him in on what had happened, he said he should get a hold of Blade since Gabe was one of their boys. Just as I said I left him a message, I got a call from him. I told him what had happened and that I thought he should come down, and he said he'd be there in 10.
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| − | I decided to wait for him just outside the door. When Carlos' truck pulled up, Blade got out and I ran up to him. I explained that that I hadn't told him the reason why I ended up here in the first place so I relayed the info that I got a text from Gabe saying he saw Little Jim here, but by the time I got here, he was no where to be found. Blade nodded along to my story and when I was done, told Carlos to go pull the fire alarm and that he would take care of the crowd. The rest of us poked around the dressing room trying to find anything out of the ordinary. The only thing I found was Gabe's phone which had Nicolai's and Evgeni's, both Elena's retainers, numbers in the contacts list. I let Mike know of this because it sounded a bit strange. We waited around until Xavier finished his work and because he wanted the bodies for a full autopsy, he got the idea to have me open up some loudspeakers to cart them out in. I thought it was brilliant; they're JBLs anyway.
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| − | After an hour or so, the crowds dissipated and we had done all we could do. I caught one of the security guards I saw inside the club and asked him when the DJ went on break. He told me a few minutes before 10pm. On my way home I checked the time stamp on my texts and he had contacted me around 9:45pm. Of all the time windows...
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| − | The following night the first person on my mind was Jericho. I hadn't seen him in a little while and because he was acting so strange the last time, I thought I'd pay him a visit. Plus, given another murder and someone still missing, I would feel better seeing those I care about with my own eyes. I left him a note in our usual spot while secretly hoping he'll get a more modern way of communication soon.
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| − | Mike sent me a text saying Sarkozy managed to get surveillance tapes of the club and that we should come to the Seattle City Library to go over them and the photos Xavier had too. We rented out a media room and started playing the tape of the club's main floor. Gabe was up on stage and though it was grainy, it looked as though he did mess around with what could be a phone while on stage so that part of the story was plausible. He stepped off the stage a few moments later and went into the back. We switched the tape to the one of the hallway in the back. We saw Gabe walk into his room with a woman in tow. Then a man dressed in Carhartt's and a hat, looking like an electrician, came out of the room and went into the room next to it; the bathroom. A chill washed over me. Not 30 seconds later, I came into the hallway and knocked on the very door the killer was behind. As soon as I went into the dressing room, the man stepped out of the bathroom and walked out the door. I hung my head. We scrolled back to the middle of the day and saw this guy walking into the room around noon. So we can at least rule out that he's Kindred so that would make him just a well-educated mortal or a retainer. Sarkozy and Vince seemed like they were onto something, relating this back to Genevieve, but I had had enough so I said goodnight and went home. Fuck, the killer was RIGHT THERE!!
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| − | I was playing a Saturday show for a change so it was nice to take a break from all this private eye bullshit and just sing. It felt great!
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| − | Then Sunday came the first of the it-must-have-been-horribly-expensive-to-get-them-here series of shows put on by Genevieve. I put that dress to good use again and went up to Seattle U. I saw a few familiar faces, including a guy who gave me a wax sealed envelope. It was a note of thanks from Genevieve. We all had box seats for the concert and I met up with Rafael as planned. I looked around before the show started and saw some Kindred who must have been from Tacoma in the audience. Strangely, though, I didn't see any of the Seattle Sanctified; not even Genevieve herself! The concert started before I could put too much thought into it and it was spectacular. Classical music always makes me wistful and misty-eyed.
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| − | After the show, we gathered in the mezzanine and that was when Genevieve and Liam showed up. Genevieve made a motion to make an announcement of thanks for coming, but only got a word or two in before her features hardened at the sight of Sarkozy. She demanded to know what he was doing here and when he mentioned that he got into town about a week ago, she EXPLODED. She was appalled that he had been in for so long and hadn't presented himself yet. He claimed to have been trying to get in touch with her, but she paid no attention and said that if he weren't gone by tomorrow, his life would be forfeit. Whoa... She gave her speech and afterwards, turned to Blade with an odd smile and asked why he had been calling. Blade's face twisted in frustration and he stormed out.
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| − | I took Genevieve aside because she had asked to speak to me at the concert and she asked if I had come to a decision on her proposition. I squirmed a little and told her I was still thinking about it, but she just smiled and said to come see her when I was ready. I feel like I'd be more at ease if she were doling out death sentences rather than making pleasantries... I found Rafael again in the crowd and he was talking to a gentleman who he introduced as Jim Ables from Tacoma. Apparently they go way back... like everyone else in the city, it seems. They invited me to come along with them to the Tacoma Museum of Glass which I accepted. I've only seen pictures of the place so I was excited to be able to see it in person.
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| − | Why is it that everyone is so wary of Rafael, but yet he's the one of the ones who gives me the most feeling of normalcy?
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| | ==Previous entries== | | ==Previous entries== |
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| | ===[[Anthony's and Mister The Eye]]=== | | ===[[Anthony's and Mister The Eye]]=== |
| | ===[[A Dog, a Murder Mystery, and Being the Messenger Who Gets Shot At]]=== | | ===[[A Dog, a Murder Mystery, and Being the Messenger Who Gets Shot At]]=== |
| | + | ===[[Death of a DJ Man]]=== |
Jacqueline is a year-old neonate Gangrel who has the appearance of a 21-year old punk rocker. She is new to the Seattle area from Boston (or so she claims) and is the vocalist and frontman of the punk band Seven (no relation to VII). She resides at the bar/club where she performs most at the edge of downtown. At first, she had no covenant ties due to being so new to Kindred life, but after witnessing things nearly erupting in a war, she is extremely hesitant to even consider joining one for resentment at being used as a pawn. Though she has her secrets, being the new kid and having no one to even truly call a friend, she is quite naive and may get herself into trouble just by following her heart to what she thinks is salvation from her loneliness.
Not officially a domain, but Jacqueline has been known to hang around the club, El Corazon, often. Her band performs there regularly so the owners and employees know of her and give her nearly free reign of the place.
They say inspiration can come from anywhere. I don't know who "they" are, but given that I have quite a bit of time on my hands, I suppose I can give their theory a thorough test. So here I am writing in a little black notebook about the daily events of my alleged life. Maybe some hack will want to publish it for me to become the next Anne Frank (I don't recommend it, wannabe publisher), but the hope is that maybe "they'll" be right and I'll get inspired for a song or two out of all this. So let's begin from when I arrived in the emerald city.
