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She could hear her heartbeat. Kathump, kathump... kathump kathump... she imagined she could hear her blood in her veins, sluicing through her body. She felt the pulse in her wrists, under her chin, at the backs of her knees. Blood. She felt the stirrings of a craving, felt a deep hunger/thirst/passion small... yet growing... only in its puppyhood, this beast, yet with promise of such growth as to put the chill of fear in anyone.
She watched carefully how the young mice reacted as she fed their mother her dose of vitae. Yes... mama mouse craved it... her eagerness palpable as she suckled at the medicine dropper full of rich Kindred blood. Her offspring, though, seemed not to notice; they were growing as quickly as the other two litters, that of the former ghoul mouse and the mouse who'd drunk only ordinary human blood from the beginning, all born the same day, all about the same size. Mason was relieved that the effects did not seem to pass through mammalian milk.
Already thinking ahead to the baby, when its growth inside her would be her body's priority, that and its cravings fighting daily, nightly, for supremacy. Anticipation, anxiety, planning, it seemed all of those yet none, something more, foreknowledge perhaps, or... maybe it was empathy with the memories Nick and Constance had of her withdrawal agonies, the scars those times had left were tangible.
She recognized, already, the pull of the addiction on her own cravings. It was a mere matter of days before the changes would begin in earnest... her body undergoing the beginnings of pregnancy, and the withdrawal from addiction; she had a moment's frisson of fear before she carefully blocked off that thought for the moment, and went back to her work, careful notations, entering observations into her computer in the codes she'd developed for Masquerade purposes.
Later that Night (The Cure, by millie)
The Cure
"Lucille's.... " Millie asks with confusion after the concert she had attended with the Toreador Primogen and the childe of the Club Manager. She hops out when her senses tell her that the driver and passengers had acquiesced to her request, barely waiting for the car to stop and not aware if they would wait for her, leave, or follow her up.
Millie rides, dazed, up the elevator to Lucille's penthouse. Any who were watching at the top would see the doors open with no one inside, though the surveillance cameras would see a very intense little waif stepping into the corridor. A loud thumping on the door to the Semingsworth suites coalesced into a visible form as she was greeted at the door. "Millie, please come ..." was started, but not finished before the little Malkavian was through the entryway and heading directly for where Lucille was upon Millie's last visit here.
Lucille was in fact there again, in a guest room. She was propped neatly amid the tranquil setting, with those who cared about her all around, tending to any indicated want. She looked so... comfy, like the corpse she was.
Millie's fists clenched and unclenched, looking at the once proud, strong Ventrue: her protector, her friend. Anger flashed more, and images of the concert darted in her mind. Entropy is death. Serenity is for the dying. How DARE Lucille try to die, how DARE her 'friends' lull her there.
The music raging in her mind still, the Malkavian reached up as if to stroke the side of Lucille's face. Then, with a sudden, harsh, swift movement, she raised her hand, the flat of her palm slapping Ventrue's cheek with a crack that echoed through the small room.
Suddenly, Lucille leans forward, eyes wide with anger. "Of...all...the IMPUDENCE!" Lucille blinks a few times, looking around. Her angry gaze focused on the little one before her, causing Millie to cringe in fright. Seeing her huddling, Lucille clears her throat, straightening her blouse, and addresses her. "I mean...how uncouth. Surely, we've taught you better than that."
Millie, still cowering, manages to creek out, "Color me rude."
"That color doesn't suit you." Lucille stares down at the little Malk imperiously. "Never do that again."
Millie answers softly, shakily, "Never make me do that again."
The Ventrue glances around the room in bewilderment. "And...why am I situated in the guest room?" She then puckers her lips in a dainty, effete smirk at the waif and holds out her hand for the newly stolen items.
The Malkavian relaxes a bit, shuffling her feet, fishes in pockets, and sheepishly hands Lucille some shiny trinkets gathered on her last visit. She answers Lucille's query with quiet concern, "You were... not well."
"I wasn't?" Millie shakes her head no in answer, studying Lucille's face for a moment. The Ventrue stops and gives Millie back one of the trinkets. The little urchin's eyes grow wide at the present. Lucille stands and pats Millie's head as she turns to place the rest of the items back into their proper places.
"Oh... wow... um... thank you." Millie smiles, following the Ventrue around her penthouse, pocketing items in their wake.
Mason had been in the kitchen during the exchange... she walked back out, heading to the guest room, and when she saw Lucille walking around, replacing trinkets, millie trailing her, she gasped, dropping the glass she'd been holding. It hit the plush carpeting and its contents splashed out, but it did not shatter. She had taken one step, then two, then run into the room amid the titanium weaponry, face ablaze with relief and wonder.
Though she got a confused recital of the events that had led up to the recovery, it was only later, at her leisure in the early dawn hours, recounting the event to Nicholas, that she managed to piece together what she thought had happened.
"Millie had some kind of vision at a concert," she told him. "It told her that Lucille felt like a corpse... or something... that she needed a reminder that she was alive, that she couldn't ignore... her pride would not let her.... millie.... um... insulted her. Slapped her face, I think. And then... Miss Semingsworth realized... finally... maybe it's like pinching yourself to make sure it isn't a dream? Something like that. Visions... I wonder. I really do."
Mason had stayed with Lucille until Lucille was sound asleep, and the sun was in the sky. She'd watched, and noticed that Lucille's sleep seemed far more peaceful now than it had before. She considered mentioning this to Nick, but, decided she was not sure enough that it was significant, or that he would be interested, to bring it up. Instead, she curled up against him and fell asleep... it had been a long night. And she'd need her rest, as Lucille would probably want a full review of events since the kidnapping very soon...