In the Mirror

[Alex]

The lights flipped on as Alexis walked into the room, a converted walk-in closet in her nook of the Caine Manor. With the mirrors on the door, the ceiling, the floor, and angled around the rest of the room she could see every square inch of herself.

In the mirror she looked back into eyes she barely knew. It was true in the literal sense of course, it was a temporary form she had twisted herself into for her mission with Catherine. A mission that had been an unqualified success in spite of it going against everything she had trained herself for years to do. And that… was what had finally brought the long simmering feeling to a boil. And she needed to talk with someone. Someone who could look at it from the outside. Someone who knew her before all of this

“Computer, call Joker.”

And in a moment, after a few rings the young - well, going on sixty now but young to her - Catiff picked up on the other line “Pilate. I was starting to miss your voice” He started, the smirk on his face clear enough over the audio.


“Cut the act Joker.”

“You and I both know that’s not happening, Pilate. Especially since you can’t rip my throat out over the phone. So what can I do you for?”

Alexis took a seat on a stool, grabbing one of her legs. Continuing to yank and tug at the muscle, bone, skin, and sinew as she spoke she replied to the clanless. “I need a frank assessment. I’ve always trusted your judgement back to Richmond. Have I gone soft?”

Her question is just met with dead silence for an uncomfortably long time. “If I didn’t know you have no sense of humor I’d think you’re joking. You? Soft?”

Alexis switched over to the other leg, stretching and reshaping it to match her preferred frame. “We’re facing a situation here with the Camarilla having influenced a gang leader, a councilman, and a prominent businessman. I didn’t even propose killing them.”

“OK Pilate, you’ve figured out that even though you’re a hell of a hammer not everything’s a nail. It only took you, what, 150 years? Because murder left, right, and center worked so well for us in Richmond. For crying out loud, learning ”

Alexis moved on to the hands, yanking at the individual fingers and them smoothing them over, the popping and realigning knuckles probably loud enough to be picked up on the call. “We went to interrogate some goons this evening. I’d been planning on kidnapping them and interrogating them till they sung. But we were able to get it out of them by… flirting.”

“So someone taught the murderbot to love??” He exclaimed with a laugh. “I’m shocked but… it worked right? You got the information right? There’s no shame in not having got your hands dirty.” And then after a beat, he added a more teasing “Oh I wish I was there to see that though. Sounds hot.”

Alexis quickly, and sharply replied “I haven’t fought anything since Atlanta, and even that was mostly psyops and manipulation.”

“Again, Pilate, hammers, nails, we’ve been over this. Atlanta was a success, it was your brain-baby, the fact that you apparently don’t have the same bloodlust in your youth doesn’t mean you’ve gone soft. It means you’ve got wise.”

By this point Alexis was to the body - first a quick snap and twist of the shoulder joints so we could swing them around to her back, and then a series of pops as she spread back out the spine and the ribcage. She let out a prolonged sigh, before continuing with a frustrated edge to her voice “Joker for the last fifty years, I’ve spent most of my time dealing with the Children of Seth in my part of town. I broker deals on a black market. I act as a go-between for gang leads to keep the peace. For the love of Caine I spend good chunks of my nights working as a doctor for these people. I have patients. I’m a damned pillar of the Mortal community.” She hesitates for a moment more. “I’m a warrior, Caine damn it. I was given these blessings to destroy the Camarilla and the Elders, not to be some kind of Shepherd of Mortals Joker.”

The voice on the other end replied quickly, the previous mirth completely gone. “OK, first, Pilate, you got your gifts because your shithead of a sire plucked you off a street in New Orleans and drained you. Don’t put some kind of… mythic origin story on it. Second, if your beloved Caine does return someday and strikes down the Tower and Antideluvians and Elders with you at his side, well, guess what. There’s going to be a lot of Mortals living in your brave new world. Someone’s going to need to shepherd them in your Utopia.”

“I suppose so.” She conceded

“So since you’re going to need those skills eventually, you’re just practicing now, aren’t you? And anyway it’s putting you in a better position to strike at the Camarilla, isn’t it?”

“Yes” Alexis simply replied, as she smoothed over the flesh on her torso and started stretching and shaping her arms.

“So with all due respect Alexis calm your tits and cut your mid-life crisis bullshit. I saw you fight in Atlanta. You’re as sharp as ever. The fact that you aren’t up to your neck in blood and guts every night doesn’t mean anything. When the Camarilla exposes itself, strike. I know you’ve still got it in you.” He said, before adding

“Thank you Joker.”

“No problem, Pilate. But I’ve got a holo-vid to get back to before bed so… later?”

“Goodnight Joker.” Alexis said, killing the line. She stared back into the mirror. The reshape still had some work to do… the lines weren’t quite right, and her body art needed to be put back in place. But it was Alexis staring back, not Emily this time. It had been good to get all that off her chest… but she wasn’t sure that it really helped. But when her time to strike came… she would be sure to prove to herself and others that her claws were as sharp as ever.