Post by Ivan on Sept 25, 2010 0:34:09 GMT -5
Sometimes, often infact, it is best to let things progress on their own. This might at first seem counter to the idea of leading a clan as powerful as the gangrel, but it is still a truism worthy of consideration. Moreso than any clan but the Brujah, we embrace a pack mentality for our leadership, and this idea imparts with it a certain latitude as concerns members of the clan, and their dealings within the city.
This is not to say that I do not control the clan. No indeed, I am well respected, and infact feared throughout the city. I simply don't choose to micromanage every single event that takes place within my home.
The Aidoneus, my sometime ally regards such an outlook as foolish, naive, but then he does not fully understand the heart of a Gangrel. It is a pain to be held to strict rules and regulations, a pain to be collared and controlled. We are predators by nature, not cattle. We hunt, we feed, and we obey the pack only so far as it furthers out interests.
This is the nature of things, and it is a circumstance I have long been comfortable with. Of course, one cannot be lax in such matters either. A predator must maintain the balance between outward calm, and inward control.
The balance is why I am here tonight, outside the comfort of my estate, and seated in the uncommon confines of a kine resteraunt, observing the flow of prey past by table with amusement, and a mild peckish hunger. Naturally this place is not purely for the kind. The owner, and thus all the employees work for me, serving as an effective front for less legitimate business interests, and providing me with fine dining as a small recompense. The manager has exquisite taste in waiting staff.
Not that feeding is my sole interest in being here. There is business to be done tonight. A new gangrel has come to this city, who through ignorance and stupidity has not seen fit to introduce herself to me, deigning only to speak with the Prince, who saw fit to assign her as the ward of one of the lesser souls at my command. By anyone else, I might expect treachery, but this one, ill bred and unsanitary as he is, is not so stupid as to attempt it...He has simply forgotten who he serves...and thus it falls to me to provide a gentle reminder of this fact.
To that end I've dispatched a letter to him, informing the mutt that I wish to meet with him, and instructing him to bring his new charge in tow. Together we'll dine, and discuss the business of this clan...and how their continued unlives benefit me...or fail to do so.
It should be a delightful evening.
This is not to say that I do not control the clan. No indeed, I am well respected, and infact feared throughout the city. I simply don't choose to micromanage every single event that takes place within my home.
The Aidoneus, my sometime ally regards such an outlook as foolish, naive, but then he does not fully understand the heart of a Gangrel. It is a pain to be held to strict rules and regulations, a pain to be collared and controlled. We are predators by nature, not cattle. We hunt, we feed, and we obey the pack only so far as it furthers out interests.
This is the nature of things, and it is a circumstance I have long been comfortable with. Of course, one cannot be lax in such matters either. A predator must maintain the balance between outward calm, and inward control.
The balance is why I am here tonight, outside the comfort of my estate, and seated in the uncommon confines of a kine resteraunt, observing the flow of prey past by table with amusement, and a mild peckish hunger. Naturally this place is not purely for the kind. The owner, and thus all the employees work for me, serving as an effective front for less legitimate business interests, and providing me with fine dining as a small recompense. The manager has exquisite taste in waiting staff.
Not that feeding is my sole interest in being here. There is business to be done tonight. A new gangrel has come to this city, who through ignorance and stupidity has not seen fit to introduce herself to me, deigning only to speak with the Prince, who saw fit to assign her as the ward of one of the lesser souls at my command. By anyone else, I might expect treachery, but this one, ill bred and unsanitary as he is, is not so stupid as to attempt it...He has simply forgotten who he serves...and thus it falls to me to provide a gentle reminder of this fact.
To that end I've dispatched a letter to him, informing the mutt that I wish to meet with him, and instructing him to bring his new charge in tow. Together we'll dine, and discuss the business of this clan...and how their continued unlives benefit me...or fail to do so.
It should be a delightful evening.
