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From: Anastasia
Anastasia straightens a tome on the shelf as she selects a textbook on Spanish. One must learn the local languages. She was surprised to find that none of the people she had queried in this city actually spoke Spanish. Mexico being so close, this seemed to her a sign of apathy or perhaps laziness.
As she picked up a few stray writing instruments and pads of parchment and put them away, her mind replayed the recent visit to the Church. She closely resembled a not too well liked kindred in the city. The fact that both Riskard and Joseph had kept this information from her was almost amusing. Almost. She would get to know this Sally Fontenot if possible. Such seeming ill luck can occasionally be used to one’s advantage. Anastasia was not one to close a door on first impression of an abyss beyond.
The introductions at the Elysium seemed to go well regardless. She was proud to have met so many of the council there that night. The Malkavian Primogen’s gentility surprised her, as did the curiously polite reception of the Brujah Primogen. The Ventrue Primogen was as proper as any she had ever met, and the revelatory nature of the assumed Gangrel Primogen was intriguing. Anastasia’s mind pondered the other seeming newcomers to the city there, some possibly neonates like herself. Though such things were never easy for those of her clan, she did hope to make steady acquaintances of at least a few of them. Her packages of research materials would arrive from St. Petersburg soon, enabling her to begin research on the utterly hopeless task that she had promised the Malkavian Primogen. It was a sad case, as such interactions often are with the mad clan.
Resuming her studies, she found Spanish to be much like Latin and musical in the same way. She sounded the words in her head in time with her breaths. Most kindred stopped breathing when embraced and their pallor turned to that of a corpse. Anastasia was well instructed about these facts, but neither seemed to have happened. Indeed, even when she slept, one could, if one arose before her, witness the rise and fall of needless breaths on her chest. It perplexed her sire, but both saw the utility of such a phenomenon when dealing with mortals. Moreover, she had always awakened at the slightest disturbance in life and this quality, too, had followed her in death. Such was also useful, if one made sure to check the time of day and to always know the time of sunrise and sunset. And soon enough the day did approach, the time for sleep, and the never heard sounds of breathing slumber softly filtered through the chantry.