It had been a month since the finale of the Magocracy crisis happened, down in Savannah. A month since I’d apparently gotten thrown into another game’s past, and seen, if only for a moment, someone I’d never expected to. But as much as I wanted things to just settle down and be normal, the whole incident had changed my status irrevocably.
Which is why, for the first time, I was heading to the Grand Abattoir. The ghoulishly named place was not an actual slaughterhouse, of course, but the center of the Community’s presence in Atlanta. Well, if one was being honest, then it would be the center of all things in the Community in the state of Georgia, though the groups from Savannah had a good deal of influence, as well. The ghosts, in particular, from Savannah were quite strong due to the length of history in the place. If Atlanta wasn’t at a nexus of ley lines and the center of mortal power for the state, then Savannah could have laid a solid claim to be where the Community resided.
That, unfortunately, had no bearing on why I was stepping into the hidden realm beneath the Five Points station. So far, I’d been able to avoid dealing with the local powers that be in the Community. As a lone vampire, I was not worth their notice, provided I didn’t cause trouble for the Community. However, I was a very visible super in Atlanta, and the Vampire King had shown interest in me personally. Now the different Vampire Courts were trying to pressure me into joining them. It was a political game to them, of course. They talked about rules and traditions, but they simply wanted the bragging rights of being able to ‘claim’ me, while some simply wanted to deny me to their rivals.
It was all a major pain in the neck, which is why I hadn’t put in an appearance before now. However, I had gotten a letter the other day, which changed things. It was an actual physical letter, on parchment, written by hand with a quill, an actual quill pen. There was a lot of very fancy language, which made things go on beyond the few lines it ought to have taken to being a multipage document. The long and the short of it was that the Fullripper Clan had ‘claimed’ me as one of theirs, and was now demanding I give tribute to them as I had not been contributing to their dues. And the assholes were summoning me before the Court since I hadn’t presented myself to ‘my’ clan leader.
This, naturally, pissed me off. Fortunately, when I contacted the King about this, he told me that these kinds of challenges were common when dealing with new vampires, especially vampires that did not have a clan already. He also gave me some really good advice on how to deal with the situation. Especially since, given how the whole ‘Court’ process worked, I’d been given a month’s lead time to have Web Mistress and Temptress track down something that would give me just the kind of edge I needed if these vampires proved they couldn’t be simply talked down. Oh sure, I had plenty of tricks already, but my tools for fighting other undead were sorely lacking if I didn’t get into a swordfight with them. That was a problem, since older undead were probably going to have more skill with a blade than I did. And I didn’t want to risk losing.
My trump card was sitting safely in my lair, in the lead-lined box that kept it ‘safe’ for people to be around, and also hid it from magical scans. Getting a priest to perform the ritual that bound it to me was actually fairly simple, since I was VERY popular in many of the low-income (read: minority) parts of town, and a Catholic priest at one of the local parishes wholly approved of my having the item. I left it at home so I wouldn’t be broadcasting its presence, but also because if they wanted to play nice, I could play nice. Moment things turned not nice, though, I could summon my trump card, and some vampires were going to get religion in a hurry.
Since I had never been to the Grand Abattoir before, I had to go in the ‘public’ entrance. I was a mist as I floated into the elevator at the station, and as soon as the last mortal stepped out, I solidified, and pressed a combination of keys that sent the elevator down, past both the East-West and North-South lines, to an area that would not show up on any blueprints in any office, but was known to those who were in the Community all the same. Some might wonder how the spacious cavern the elevator doors opened up on had been carved out under the station without disrupting the trains. In fact, the station was placed there to provide easier access to the Abattoir than the old entrance. I was told that the Vampire King saw to that little bit of work personally, to ensure that the humans retained their free will despite the influence in the design process.
The Grand Abattoir was done up in a Gothic style, since this was the place the Masquerade types hung out most of the time, when they weren’t being broody alone instead of broody in public. It was, frankly, beautiful, and lit by magical flames that were enchanted to never go out and give off no heat, making them perfect for proper mood lighting. Looking around, I could see beautiful works of art on the walls, and all the furniture looked to be antiques. It was the kind of understated elegance you see in ‘old money’ estates, not the gaudy pretension of ‘new money’. Personally, I preferred something more low key, since I’d found sweats and a t-shirt to be very comfortable when I wasn’t out saving the night.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Looking around, I saw the entire Vampire population of Atlanta gathered here. Evidently the population had grown since supernaturals had revealed themselves to the world, because I was counting at least two hundred vampires here, other than myself, with more than a couple having that ‘deer in the headlights’ look that told me they were new to this whole conference thing, and were awed to just be here. Of course, this might be more than just Atlanta. Perhaps all of North Georgia? At any rate, they were definitely more than the fifty or so that I had thought lived in Atlanta. And that was just the vampires! I could see plenty of other members of the Community there, including mages and weres and even a couple Fae.
Everyone turned to look at me as I entered, which was only natural since, unlike the rest of them, I was not dressed like I was going to a party, but in my costume, dressed and ready for kicking ass. A butler (human, but with the slightly slow expression that spoke of being enthralled) stepped up to me as I got off the elevator. “Good evening, Mistress. How may I announce you?”
“Vampyra.”
“And what clan, Mistress?”
I had to do my best to keep from growling at the man. He was, after all, just a brainwashed flunky doing his job. He was spared my sharp tongue for the moment when my communicator squealed the sound it always did when Web Mistress repurposed it for her own uses, and suddenly the rest of the Misfits were here, along with my two little Vampire thralls who were supposed to be enjoying the New Orleans nightlife right now. Web Mistress simply shrugged when I looked at her, and said, “You seriously didn’t think we were going to miss this show, did you?” The other Misfits simply giggled, watching me.
I sighed, and said, “Thanks, guys. But hopefully they won’t be idiots, so there won’t be a show.”
Temptress snickered. “As if that will happen.”
I smiled. Yeah, I didn’t think things would turn out pleasantly until after I’d put boot to ass, either. “Fine, fine. Just remember that if you get bored, I told you so.” Looking back to the servant who was still waiting for my response in a way that only an enthralled person would, I said, “You may introduce us as Vampyra of the Misfits, with her friends and thralls.”
“Very good, Mistress.”
With that, the butler turned to head into the ballroom proper, where everyone was gathered, and announced our arrival, just as I had told him to, unlike this ballroom which was the antechamber. In the ballroom, things were slightly less formal than they were in the Court chamber, but no matter how informal things were, a group of superheroines, all in costume, was NOT something that just passed unnoticed by the members of the Community. As we walked towards a buffet table filled with refreshments, I saw more than one group shift slightly to give us space to pass. Not quite clearing the road, but trying to stay out of what they all now knew was coming. The traditionalist tut-tutted, seeing just another new Vampire who was going to try and rail against the customs of ages, while the new vampires understood that there was going to be some ‘entertainment’ tonight.
“Ah, if it isn’t the ever-lovely Shuri, come to join in the Court at last! It will be so good to finally have you in your proper place here!”
I had just obtained a glass of bloodwine for myself, and had taken only a single sip when a voice came from behind me that was already trying to piss me off. Slowly, I turned, and saw the douche of all douches, Ignazio Vaughn. Apparently, the idiot did not get the hint the last time he had tried talking to me, and I made him roofie himself with the drink he was trying to give me. And the idiot still hadn’t figured out that I gave him the wrong name.
As I looked at the idiot with an expression reserved for unpleasant things one finds at the bottom of their shoe, Crimson Huntress and Dominatrix appeared on either side of me, and Huntress said, “Mistress, who is this strange, odious little man, and why is he calling you Shuri?” Ah, if Temptress wouldn’t give me hell about it, I could just kiss the little vampiress. Seeing Ignacio’s expression made it all the better.
Looking away from Ignacio, I said, “This is one of the pathetic hangers-on in the Community I warned you about when I sent you to New Orleans. He believes he is far more powerful and important than he is, which is why the idiot has never bothered to check the name I gave him when we first met. Otherwise, he would have realized that Wakanda is not a real place, but a fictional country in Africa, and Shuri is the name of a character in those stories. You can clearly tell the level of regard I have for him, by the fact that he does not know my real name.” I did not shout this, but I did project just a bit, so that all the vampires and other supernaturals who had enhanced hearing would be sure to hear it if they were listening in.
Vaughn clearly realized this, and was quicker than one might think in recognizing that I was publicly shaming him, here in the middle of the vampire society and supernatural Community. Anger replaced the smile on his face, and he said, “You insufferable bitch! You think you’re so much better than the rest of us, but mark my words, by the end of the night you will be properly broken and respectful to me! I won’t be made a fool of by you again!”
I scoffed at the idiot’s posturing, and said, “Oh, please, you pathetic excuse for a Vampire. You are barely more than a mortal human! The only Vampire I will bow to is the Vampire King, and even then only because he has proven worthy of my respect and honor. You are an insignificant worm who pretends to be more than he is, and is to blinded by your own arrogance to see that it is you who makes a fool of yourself time and again.”
“Ahem. The Court will be gathered in the Chambers now. If you would please make your way there?”
Looking to the side, I smiled at the same butler from before, and nodded. “Thank you. We shall be along shortly.” And with that, I drained by glass of wine, and led the way into the Court Chambers.