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From: The Bane of Yorkshire
The primogen chuckled quietly at the witty comments of the city councilman she chatted with. Perusing the account information of each politician, she could see the capital gains quickly developing as they should...in no time at all, they would bloom into enormous net profits, as she expected. The cellular phone bill would likely amount to more in this month alone than it had in all the previous years combined, she mused, but it was worth it. Her increased activity had allowed her foot to be inserted into the doorway of the human political world, and a simple nudge would open that door fully. As she exchanged her fare-thee-wells with her fellow conversationalist and ended the friendly banter, the Ventrue noticed her email icon had shifted to show that she had received notification of at least one new message.
Lucille leaned forward in her throne-like deskchair, tapping the mouse pointer on the icon to bring up the program and begin downloading. In less than a second, the obviously tiny delivery had finished, immediately opening to a letter from Hanson Blake that contained the address of the local newspaper her Toreador employee, Bryon Endochrine, wrote for. She clicked on it, bringing up her browser, and skimmed down the listing.
The address of the building for the recent fire seemed vaguely familiar, but she could not quite remember where exactly...
If Lucille's eyes were disturbing when she was in a serene expression, it as nothing compared to the shift in visage to a mildly shocked one. She leaned forward and pored over the text closely, reading and rereading it as the realization of the destruction of Rebecca's haven and the death of Eric proved all too clear. The photographs of ash around the grisly scene, though faded by cheap photography, depicted the fate of the former Ventrue primogen.
As she regained her composure, disregarding the fact that no one was there to lose it in front of, her cellular phone chirped with a sudden call. Picking up the sleek device, the Yorkshirean recognized the listed number as the Prince's, no doubt awaiting her answer so they could mull over every possibility, their public statements, and their next course of action...