Upon hearing the knock at the door, the primogen minimizes the screens she was working on, each section briefly visible as the title of a politican flashed and disappeared. Turning to the door, she calls out, "Enter," and is in turn rewarded with entry of Mason, who leads her recent acquisition, the ghoul named Constance, into the study. The woman's beauty did not seem marred in the least by her apparent, all-consuming catatonia. She has seen this in subjects before, ones she had done this to herself...where the mind simply withdraws and refuses to accept the trauma unleashed upon it. Mason leans down to Lucille and whispers, "Here she is, Miss Semingsworth...she's very upset by all this. I hope you can do something for her." They both glanced at Bastian's former ghoul for a moment. "Thank you, Miss Weston. Please leave us," Lucille ordered after the traumatized ghoul was seated, to which Mason answered with a simple, silent departure. The Ventrue watched her new charge for a moment, observing her lifeless posture and vacant stare before saying, very softly, "Constance..." No reply, but Lucille knew she was still in there. She continued, "You must be hungry...tired...alone...and very, very frightened. For the first time in her stay, the vampire saw Constance's sapphire blue eyes look up, bereft and hopeless. The Cainite softened her gaze so as not to frighten the child and proceeded with, "Your fate seems precarious right...much like being a vampire and not realizing it yet, I suppose." "He...left me..." the ghoul murmured. "Bastian...yes, he did," she offered. "And you wonder if you can survive without him, don't you?" to which Lucille's companion gave a strangely calm smile. He granted you something that empowered you as a fountain of youth might...a life eternal..." "I cannot survive without him," the ghoul answered. "You can...if another Cainite grants you that same ichor," the elder replied, picking up the glass her plasma was in and finishing its contents as the young woman watched her with an eerie calm. Picking up the letter opener, Lucille traces its edge deep into her palm as her fingers curl into a fist, letting loose a red river into the container until full. The stream ends just as she closes her eyes briefly and withdraws her hand, and leaves the full glass and the letter opener on the desk. "No one can help you if you don't communicate with me," the undead noble spoke, noting her ghoul's look of perplexity. "I am...to be yours now?" Constance asked. "Yes. Does that disturb you? The glass and its contents are yours after I am satisfied with our conversation. The ghoul smiled oddly, animating her beautiful features, and saying, "Yes. What would you like to know?" This one might require watching...but at least she seemed willing to speak for now. "Let's begin with your full name." "Constance Marie Martinez." The Ventrue looked over the young woman...her long black hair fell to waist length and contrasted her sapphire eyes and lightly tanned skin...she wondered if Bastian had exercised a healthy libido with this one. "Your age, Miss Martinez?" "I'm 19. Or I was...when Mr. Thorne took me into his employ...60 years ago, to my best recollection," she offered. Lucille nodded slowly, continuing, "To what capacity did you serve Mr. Thorne?" Miss Martinez's eyes dropped for a moment, then slowly returns, meeting her new mistress' directly, and softly replies, "I was his personal assistant...I arranged his contact, kept his schedules, spoke for him when he required a spokesperson. I was his pilot when his interests took him abroad, and am an excellent markswoman." "I see...quite a formidable array of services. And would you prefer to continue serving in such a capacity?" the vampire asked. In the most unchallenging manner Lucille has ever heard, Constance replies, very quietly, "It is for you to determine what capacity I serve in." "True, but if there is a problem or deficiency in some aspect of your service, I need to know," Lucille countered. "So I pose the question again, Miss Martinez." "I serve best as an escort, Miss Semingsworth. But I am equally capable in any of the areas I've mentioned." The Kindred watched her companion for a moment in confusion before stating, "Escort... forgive my fragile grasp of your modern vernacular...do you mean as in prostitute?" to which Constance nodded her head ever so slightly, closing her eyes. "Noted. You will no longer serve as an escort. I have no interest in degrading my servitors." The primogen recalled the days when she used such tools in her own Yorkshire... "Yes, Miss Semingsworth." "Your education will be furthered, with the onset of the coming quart--" she paused, watching the ghoul wipe liquid diamond tears from her eyes. "Why are you crying?" "I'm afraid," Constance murmured. "Of me?" "No...of change," the ghoul replied. "The world changes constantly...from what I've seen, the aspect of life is, partly, to change," the vampire offered. "And you certainly won't be alone in that change...Mason, Nicholas, myself, and Sinclaire will be here to help cushion that change." A sudden freeze in the woman's expression told the Ventrue that something was wrong with the preceding statement. "What is your relationship with Nicholas and Sinclaire?" "Sinclaire...he is...going to be staying with us?" "I was planning to keep him here...why?" Lucille inquired. Constance bit her lower lip and said, "Nicholas...is...very close to me. Very dear. We were going to be married." "You may continue with that plan if you wish. What of Sinclaire?" The ghoul struggled with the words for several minutes before answering, "Sinclaire is not safe to be around." This was taking far too long. The primogen leaned forward, locking her stormy grey eyes on her ghoul and speaking a simple word: "Explain." "He hurts things," she promptly reples. "Like?" "Me," Constance spoke. "How has he hurt you?" Constance frowned slightly as the words flow out of her mouth. "I'm sorry, I was exaggerating. I merely don't like him." "I somehow doubt that. How has he hurt you?" Lucille asked as she watched her charge with a calm patience. Constance glances at Lucille in confusion. "I don't remember." "Does he remember?" Shivering slightly, the ghoul replies "I'm not sure." "I see. If he is considered a liability, I'll need to know this. Is there anything you can tell me about his practices and personality that might help me in this?" "Mr. Sinclaire is very good at what he does.... he... fixes things. He hurts things. I... I can't explain any better than that. But I am very frightened of him, Miss Semingworth," the ghoul stammered. "Without Mr. Thorne to control him, I'm very frightened." Nodding slowly, the Yorkshirean answers, "If I find your fears founded, he will not remain here. Is that the change that you fear?" to which she receives a reluctant nod. "Thank you, Miss Martinez. You and Nicholas will occupy the apartment I've acquired on the floor just below this one. Mason will see to any provisions you require. "Thank you," Constance whispered. "Please...drink," Lucille spoke as she gestures to the glass of blood on the desk. "Enter," she calls out to the sudden knock at the door, which is in turn answered by the hesitant entrance of Mason. "Miss Weston, after Miss Martinez has completed her drink, I will need to speak with Nicholas." Mason nods to Lucille. "May I speak to you for a brief time alone first, Miss Semingworth?" she asks, watching Constance rise hesitantly, walking over to the desk, lifting the glass and hunching a bit. With an understanding nod, Mason turns and walks outside to wait as Lucille watches the peculiar scene...she must have guesses that this new ghoul held some taboo toward drinking with an audience. The Ventrue turned back to her computer and restored some of the screens, monitoring each of the politician's financial accounts closely as Constance drinks quickly, being careful not to spill any on either herself or anything else, deep relief evident on her features, though she does not meet her new mistress' eyes again, quickly departing without another word and blushing deeply. Mason enters promptly after, sitting with the vampire. After their brief exchange, the Blue Blood nods slowly, pondering aloud, "I'll need to speak briefly with Nicholas, then Sinclaire. I want you to keep Constance and Nicholas away from Sinclaire for now." Mason nods her agreement, continuing to detail Nicholas' requests. "I see...he may keep his pets if he wishes. Unfortunately, they are ill at ease with me. I would prefer not to befoul them with my presence," she spoke. Animals indeed did seem to turn tail and run or even attack when she was around... "Thank you... I'm sure it will help. What should I do if Sinclaire is... um.. difficult?" The Ventrue's face darkened. "Inform me. I'll deal with him personally," to which Miss Weston nodded. "Was there anything else before I speak with Nicholas?" "Just that Nicholas said he wanted something to do ... tasks to start with immediately..." the ghoul replied. "I thought maybe he could help me with my apartment... if you didnt need him for anything." "Interesting...I'm not certain what I need him for yet, so he's welcome to work with you for that time," Lucille allowed. "Thank you...I'll send him in..." Mason said as she dismissed herself. Some time passed as the murmuring of conversation echoed outside between Nicholas and Mason, Constance's name arising on several occasions before a polite knock catches the Ventrue's attention. "Enter." Nicholas enters, standing at strict attention a few feet from the door. He waits with an attentive expression on his face. "You asked for me Ms. Semingworth? "Please, have a seat." "Yes Ma'am, he answers as he takes a seat, the same bright, attentive expression on his face. Lucille nods and proceeds, "We don't have time for a full discussion. You will continue your orientation with Miss Weston as time permits. Miss Martinez and yourself will jointly occupy an apartment if this suits you both." Nicholas confirmed, "Yes, Ms. Semingworth. That is most generous of you. Thank you." "The subject matter of this discussion is Sinclaire," she stated, gauging his reaction for a moment. "What are your thoughts on him?" "On Mr. Sinclaire? Very devoted to his craft, good with his hands... good at getting information. Takes great pleasure in his work. A tad on the self interested side, and posseses of a most singular sense of humor," the ghoul answered. A man of few words." He falls silent. "And how do YOU feel about Mr. Sinclaire?" Nicholas slips into a blank expression for a few seconds, then glances back at Lucille and says, "I am not fond of him, Ms. Semingworth." "Does he exhibit sadistic tendencies?" the Ventrue asked probingly. "Yes." This appeared to be much more fruitful than asking Constance. "Has he expressed the desire to harm you or Constance?" The ghoul hesitates before replying, "Yes, Ms. Semingworth." "Has he ever followed through with this desire?" "I would need a more difinitive explanation before I could answer that," Lucille's companion answered. "Has he ever hurt either of you?" "Yes." "Which one of you...and what did he do?" she asked. "It would be very difficult to explain... Mr. Thorne had a rather rigorious set of checks and balances, Ms. Semingworth. A reward system? Constance was the reward on occasion." "So in other words...he condoned abuse of her on occasion." to which Nicholas nodded. "I see." "Sinclaire does not like me, I don't think. He does not work well with others, in some ways." the young man offered. "Thank you, Nicholas. You may wait in the living room for Mason. She should be along shortly," to which the ghoul rises quickly with a respectful bow before leaving. During the passing silence, the Ventrue begins to ponder the times when she let her Beast run free, and the way she acted back then. As she heard Mason and Nicholas outside, she paused long enough for them to leave, nodding to herself. As she looked up, her eyes and demeanor took on a monstrous light, and she softly whispered, "Come..." to which Sinclaire was all too prompt to answer. He knocked on the door lightly before entering, standing casually while his eyes scan the room. "Yes, boss?" he asked lackadaisacally. Lucille's eyes look over Sinclaire as if he were a peace of meat before whispering in just enough of an inhuman snarl that her Humanity seemed forfeit, "Sit." Using her power of persuasion, Sinclaire dropped right into the seat, watching her with bland curiosity as she spoke to him with the same reverbration of a snarl in the background of her voice that she possessed back in the day when she dangled close to the precipice of being Beastly for the rest of her days...she wondered, as she spoke, just how close she still was. I have a task for you...I need to know if Thorne kept certain... devices...I've been lacking in my household of late. Thumbscrews...bodyclamps...a human press...a rack...it's for a personal project of mine...I thought I might use Constance as my...shall we say...guinea pig?" to which Sinclaire did not so much as even bat an eyelash. "Everyone seems to lack the stomach to even utter a word. Would you like to help me?" "No, Ma'me. Mr. Thorne had no such things. Help you, Ma'me?" the ghoul answered with a cautious look on his face. Sneering, Lucille continued, "I'm going to acquire some anyway. If Nicholas gets in the way, I'll have to use them on him too...I hope he does, though. Do you have the stomach to serve me or not?" Sinclaire nodded and replied, "Sure, Ma'me. You let me know if Nick gets out of hand." He certainly did not seem unenthused. "Gooood...my kind of boy," she cooed. "What kind of experience do you have? I need to know where to train you in this," she muttered. "No need to train me in that, Ma'me. I've studied it for a long time. I get information. I fix things. I guard. That's what I do," he stated plainly. So he's obviously done it before... Lucille gnaws on her lower lip as if it were the most delicious thing in the world as she continued with, "Hrmph...but how out of practice are you?" "You tell me what you want. I do it. You judge for yourself," Sinclaire replied. This one did not, apparently, like answering this question, which only made her even more curious. "I asked you a question. I don't know how carefree things were in paradise, but you serve me now, not Thorne." "Yes, Ma'me. And I answered you. I am not a far judge of these skills. Only your opinion counts, Ma'me," he answered. This was not, to her, the normal human reply. He seemed even more guarded than the others... "You know what you can and can't do...I need someone creative. I need someone who's not out of practice," she reiterated. "I am not out of practice, Ma'me," came the answer. So he's used his skills often enough, which so far corroborated the previous stories... "What was your last session like?" the Ventrue leaned forward with an eager glint in her eyes. "A business associate of Mr. Jenkins... like wise an associate of Mr. Thorne... was double-dealing. I asked him a few questions.. about who stold the money." he described plainly. No revulsion in his expression. No regret. "He answered... after a few teeth were removed... as well as his eye, and scalp." "That's it?" "Ma'me?" he queried. "Oh, come on...you can do better than that...what was your best masterpiece of torture art?" she purred. She wanted to see how proud he was of his "work". You're starting to disappoint me." "I'm sorry to hear that, Ma'me. I'm not real good with words. But I always get what I'm asked to get from whoever I'm asked to get it. "Have you worked on anyone I know?" Without batting an eyelash, Sinclaire answered, "No, Ma'me." "Whom do you want to work on?" the vampire inquired. "Anyone you tell me to." "I didn't ask that. Whom do YOU want to work on?" she queried, the difficulty of speaking with him beginning to actually grate on her dead nerves. "Whoever done that to Mr. Thorne," he replied. So...he did want to torture...it was not just following orders. "And.. whoever you tell me to." "What? You've never wanted to do your work on Nicholas or Constance? I find that hard to believe..." she mused as she rolled her eyes. "Nick and Constance are Mr' Thorn's property. Now... your property, I guess. Me too." "Don't pay to go messin' with the Owner's stuff." "I didn't ask that. I asked if you'd ever wanted to." she whispered. "No, Ma'me. I have never wanted to work my art on either of them." "You know...if I thought you were lying...I could just interrogate you." "Yes, Ma'me. I know you could." "Do you want to now that I've mentioned doing so?" she asked. "Only if you want me to," he replied. She noted that he seemed even more guarded then when he entered. "So if it wasn't for me ordering you to, you'd never want to torture people?" "You like Mr. Thorne, Ma'me? I don't know nobody that never had a bad thought in their head.... specially not you folk. But I don't turture people unless you tell me." This man was obviously very testy... Lucille lowered her voice to a deep growl and ordered, "Answer...the question...before I feast on you." This one obviously seemed intent on taking his opinions to the grave, and she was not going to grant him that option. "Yes, Ma'me I did. I don't torture people unless you tell me." "I asked if you wanted to, not if you were doing so." "Want to torture people, Ma'me? No." Aha...unlike his previous statement, which she surmised he was now starting to regret, she gathered, he is now starting to say that he does not want to torture anyone...she clearly recalled him stating that he wanted to torture anyone she asked him to, and even the person who had dealt with Bastian. Perfect. Lucille shifts her countenance back to a more regal demeanor. She had what she needed to know. "You're lying, and now I'm positive of it." "No, Ma'me. I'm not," Sinclaire had the audacity to reply. "Silence," she countered, locking eyes with him, and her will silences him immediately. "You stated very clearly earlier that you enjoyed such practices. If you had been telling the truth, you reactions would have remained consistent. You are to remain in the guest chambers until further notice. Any deviation from that room will result in your extermination. Any questions?" "No, Ma'me. I'm sorry we could not work with one another." he replied. "Likewise. Dismissed." she answered, watching the ghoul rise and depart. Preparations would need to be made.