Character Journal

• Deep In The Heart

  Journal Entry — November 5, 2023

  Journal Entry — November 5, 2023 San Antonio... The heat, the dust, the shadows that stretch longer than they should. I came here thinking it would be just another job, another favor for another Prince. But then again, nothing’s ever that simple when Vera Velasquez is involved. The problem she handed me was a mortal one. A messy, unpredictable thread in the tapestry she’s so carefully woven here. Someone had stumbled onto one of us feeding—right in her domain. And when her people tried to wipe the memory clean, it didn’t work. Dominate, forgetful mind, none of it took. The mortal just shrugged off our tricks like they were nothing. Vera called me in, her eyes glittering with that cold, calculating look she wears so well. “Three hours, Oliver,” she said, her voice like silk over steel. “Three hours to make this disappear. Quietly.” Three hours to fix it, or I’d be stuck here with a mortal liability she couldn’t afford. So I dug in—interviewed the mortal, scoured the scene, but came up empty. No hidden wards, no mystic bloodline. Just an ordinary human who, somehow, was immune to all our tricks. With the clock ticking, I turned to mortal solutions. I had a plan—a risky, clever one. Use some mind-altering drugs to erase a few hours from their life, stage a scene to make it look like a bad drug trip gone wrong. Have them wake up in an ambulance, dazed and confused, none the wiser. It would have worked. But Vera shut it down. But when I laid it out for her, Vera didn’t even blink. “No,” she said, her tone as final as a guillotine’s drop. “No drugs.” “Listen, it’s a quick fix,” I argued. “They won’t even remember their own name, let alone what they saw. A little haze, a little misdirection—” She cut me off with a sharp gesture, her eyes narrowing. “I said no. Drugs are sloppy. They raise questions. We are not the Sabbat, indulging in crude theatrics. You will find another way.” “Then what do you suggest, Vera?” I shot back, a touch more sharply than I should have. “I’m working with limited options here, and time isn’t on our side.” She gave me that tight, practiced smile of hers, the one that never reached her eyes. “That’s why I asked you to handle it, Oliver. If it were simple, I wouldn’t need you. Be creative. But no drugs, no loose ends. This is my domain, and I won’t risk even a whisper that things are out of control.” And that was that. The clock kept ticking, and she turned her back, leaving me to figure out how to clean up her mess without breaking her precious rules. So, left with no other options, I did what I’d sworn I’d never do again. I ghouled the woman. A mother, with a young daughter who’s always hovering on the edge of her life. The desperation in her eyes made it easy—she was practically begging for someone to take the reins and save them both from death. The blood took root faster than I expected, the hunger and the power lighting her up like a candle in the dark. Now she’s mine, whether she realizes it or not. Eager to please, hungry to learn. Tori was with me in San Antonio when it all went down, her presence like a thunderstorm on the horizon—chaos bottled up, ready to break. This city fits her in ways I didn’t expect. The heat, the noise, the constant churn of tension—it all feeds that fire in her veins. Together, we’re playing a dangerous game, splitting our time between here and D.C., while Ada and Sigmund hold the line back home. But distance doesn’t ease the strain. If anything, it pulls the tension tighter, stretching it to the breaking point. Ada feels it—I can sense her unease, even from miles away. But for now, this separation is what we need. It’s easier like this... or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. And then there’s the Auroral Shield—our noble attempt at pretending we’re more than just monsters playing dress-up. Guardians of the Masquerade, protectors against the madness of magic. I suppose it makes sense on paper, joining forces with them. After all, Vera’s city is a crucible of secrets, and she sees the value in the Shield’s mission to keep dangerous artifacts from falling into the wrong hands. Tori and I pretend to play the part of guardians, but really, it’s just another excuse to keep our own demons at bay. San Antonio wasn’t supposed to be a cage, but here I am, caught in Vera’s web. She’s clever, and she’s got me exactly where she wants me. But that doesn’t mean I’m not planning my next move. I train my new ghoul, sharpening her into a tool I can use when the time comes. Meanwhile, her daughter remains blissfully unaware of the darkness that’s swallowed her mother whole. I smile at Vera, pretend we’re on the same side, but I know better. Freedom's just another illusion in this city of shadows and secrets. For now, I keep the mask on, pretending that everything is under control. But when the time comes, I’ll be ready to break free. Because if there’s one thing Vera taught me, it’s that survival means always being ready to strike first. God help me... I can live with it. Oliver