Stage Fright // Deluge Redox

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Krispy
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Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2021 8:35 pm

Stage Fright // Deluge Redox

Post by Krispy »

The Cainite stood in the dressing room of her low rent strip club, borrowed from a girl who went by Cali, staring at the mirror. “Jacket or not? Red hair or blue or black?”

The woman shakes her head, exasperatedly “Jacket, I guess. It gives you a bit of this tough chick vibe. And I dunno, black? You’re giving a speech, not trying to get into a guy’s neck.”

And Alexis just turned back into the mirror, staring for a long moment, glancing down at some note cards she had scribbled all over. She crosses some lines out, scribbles in others. “Brothers and Sisters” She starts in her normal flat affect. “Brothers! Sisters!” She repeats in a louder, shout. And then “Nous Sommes Le Deluge. Nos Sommes Le Deluge! Nous. Sommes. Le. Deluge.” Alexis repeated in different tones and inflections and volumes as if trying on different outfits... or faces. “What do you think?” She asks her… captive audience. Easy enough to hold attention when the audience is on your payroll

‘Cali’ rolled her eyes.
“I think you’ve got stage fright, Ms. Big Scary Vampire.”

“I don’t have stage fright.” Alexis shot back, sharply. “I’ve faced down and killed monsters that you can’t even imagine. I’ve gone through earth and fire and water for the fight against the Camarilla. I’m not afraid of giving a damned speech.”

The woman rolls her eyes in response “You’ve been talking to that mirror for an hour, you’ve re-done your hair three times, your face twice, you’ve been scribbling all over those note cards - and there is a notepad app on your phone by the way. You’re stalling. I may not be as old as you, Ms. Ancient Monster, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Ok. Fine. This is my first time as Warchief of an Anarch campaign and I don’t want to lose face in front of the Movement or be seen as a pale imitation of a Figurehead. The Movement, Caine bless it, is in love with appearance and posturing and if I’m going to have any credibility as a warleader moving forward…” She trails off with a scowl. “Damnit I’m not a pontificator, I’m a fighter.”

“So I’m just going to tell you what I’ve been telling all the new girls we get.” The young mortal replied with an amused grin “Your audience wants you to succeed. They want to be thrilled. And you’re better at this than you think you are. So just get out there, do what feels natural, give it your all and you’ll be fine. Your audience is waiting” She gives an amused chuckle “You know you’re not as different from us as you make yourself out to be.”

Alexis just shook her head. “Fine. Let’s do this. The sooner we get this done the sooner you can get back to work and the sooner I can get back to actually figuring out how to un-fuck this situation.” She says picking up the cards and turning to the dressing room door, throwing a leather jacket on.

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And less than ten minutes later, Alexis was standing in a corner of a storage room that they had cleared out. One advantage of owning a strip club was access to good lighting and sound gear, though the camera was just Cali’s cell phone. Alexis was standing still as a statue, eyes closed, listening for a break in the electro-house music pulsing from front of house to end. And when the music finally takes a break her eyes open and she begins.

“Brothers, Sisters, Comrades in Arms” She begins, staring unblinkingly into the camera with a smile on her lips, her words seeming to carry much more… kinetic energy to them than usual, like she’s some kind of rockstar speaking to a crowd at a concert. “The foundations of the Tower in the city of the Houston are crumbling before our eyes. The brave warriors of the Movement have liberated vast swaths of the Limits from the clutches of the Camarilla, and dragged two of their number to the all-consuming flames. Tonight marks the beginning of the Free State of Houston.”

“To my Brothers and Sisters of the Night laboring under the yoke of the Camarilla, join us as Sisters Grace and Ember already have. You can be free of the eternal backstabbing, the twisted strangulation of boons and status, the honeyed words hiding poison that make up the night by night purgatory of the Camarilla. Your freedom - your birthright - is yours for the taking, all you must do is reach out and grab hold of it. Soon the cleansing Deluge of the Revolution will reach all of Houston and wash the foul edifice out to sea. What will be left behind is a city where all Kindred have the freedom to live their unlives as they wish. To achieve their own perfection, whatever it may be to them. That is the promise that I, Alexis Delacroix, Warleader of the Free State of Houston, make to you.”

She pauses for a moment, her grin widening and her speech taking on a bit of a mocking, sardonic tone as she continues.

“And to those of the tower who think that the Fat Prince Alderidge can protect you? Don’t delude yourselves. The Fat Prince and his blundering band of minions sat by and did nothing as the Heretical Cult festered at your doorstep - Built a Flesh Cathedral right under the nose of his handpicked Primogen and mustered an army in the Reaches. The cult festered long enough to construct an entire building made from dozens, perhaps hundreds of humans – and maybe Kindred - crafted together into a writing barely sentient mass. A temple to perversion and the Cult’s Heretical Gospel – an alter atop which any Kindred in this city could well have been dragged for the sacrifice if we the Anarchs hadn’t done the job that the Fat Prince and his pet Rat and Warlock failed to and burned the thing to the ground.”

After another beat she continues, her voice and tempo rising again and her movements becoming a bit more animated.

“Now Theo Bronson is dead, and packs of Cultists are loose about this city, out for your blood. And don’t think for a moment that your dear leader is some kind of military genius who can save you either. Why don’t you ask Henry Mitchell and dearest Devon Champlaigne how the Prince’s last great military campaign went?” She pauses to chuckle to herself “No. We, the Free State of Houston will stamp out the foul cult that Fat Prince Alderidge allowed to fester in this city, and we will liberate the downtown of Houston from the foul tyrants who have ruled it for too long.”

By the time she enters the home stretch Alexis’s gestures, volume, and timbre have reached levels somewhere between Rock Star and Revival Preacher as the speech comes to a climax

“So to those whose hearts yearn for freedom, to those who have the strength to stand up and say no more Join Us! Throw off your shackles! A new era for Houston begins tonight and I promise it will be glorious. And to those of you who can’t imagine life without the Tower’s jackboot on your throat. Run. For traitors like Robin Saint Claire run faster. Because the water is rising and Nous Sommes Le Deluge!”
Alexis Delacroix
Resident Murderbot
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