Clan Inquiries

Time: Oct. 24, Thursday, the afternoon following the meeting with Lacroix. Place: San Francisco Police Department    

Frank Kouhanek's glance slides again over to his partner, Sonny Toussaint, before he makes another attempt to make sense out of the report before him.  Since the meeting with Julian and Frank's discovery that Sonny was Kindred... he's been doing a lot of thinking.  A lot.

Shifting in his chair, Frank twirls a pencil around his finger.  He's got a zillion questions, but mainly some... issues.  He's just never talked to Sonny... Kindred... before.

Sonny looks up, almost as if the glance had been felt.  No longer having to hide his true self from his partner, but still having to keep it hidden from the others in the department was wearing on him.  But at least he could finally speak openly to Frank.

"Frank, that paperwork isn't going to get done by fidgeting with it."

Still another glance, but Frank blanches as he sees Sonny looking at him.  His eyes flick away again.  He tries vainly to smile.  "What paperwork?" Then snorts as he obviously has a report in front of him.  "Oh, that, yeah, well..."  Shift, twirl, fidget... Frank wishes he could just come out and talk to Sonny.

"Frank, I am *not* going to bite you."  Sonny sighs at his partner's nervous twitches.  "We need to talk."

The brown eyes flick again, not making contact yet.  "Yeah.  We do.  Not here."

"Definitely.  Do we have anything that *must* be done today?"

The mortal detective waves at the report in front of him.  "Just this - the Emerson case.  I just can't concentrate on it, you know?"  Nervously he runs a hand through his mop of brown hair.

"That can wait until Monday.  Let's get out of here."

Only too glad, Frank grabs his jacket and follows his partner out of the department.

They go to Frank's apartment, the only place Frank feels secure talking about Kindred stuff.  He tosses his jacket on the floor and heads to the fridge for a beer.  "Want one, Sonny?"

"Please."  Sonny knows he won't take more than a swallow or two, but anything that makes him seem 'safer' to Frank is a good thing at this point.

Frank brings two opened beers back and hands one to Sonny before flopping down on the couch.

Sonny sits on the side chair in the big main room, trying to at least appear at ease.  A very faint, very old smell of phosphorus teases his nose, sending a faint chill of unease down his spine.  His partner is a paradox in the Kindred world, not Kine -- not knowing as much as he does, not someone's mortal lover or thrall, not a fledgling....

Frank takes a sip of beer, then looks over to his partner for the first time.  "So... how old are you, anyway?"

"Frank, I was Embraced in 1916 when I was 36 mortal years old.  My parents were born into slavery."

"Oh, my God," is the first thing Frank can think to say.  "Sonny, if you don't mind my asking... why?  Why did you become Kindred."

Sonny leans forward, looking at his bottle.  "Because I was dying, Frank."  The voice is cold, precise, uninflected.

"Oh, shit," Frank murmurs.  The hand goes into the hair again, messing it up more.  "You don't have to tell me the rest, it's okay."

"No, you need to understand this."

Frank erupts from his chair, walks around in a circle, then sits again, his hands on his knees.  "Okay.  Yeah... I know I need to."

Sonny takes a deep breath and explains, "Julian took me out of the hands of a mob, they had beaten me to the point where I was dying.  The KKK had no reins on them in those days.  I was a black man and that was enough.  Julian saved my life, saved my family, *became* my family."

Frank nods, thinking of Alexandra reluctantly.  She'd given him the only true acceptance and love he'd ever felt, at least since his wife's tragic suicide. And now he knows Julian better.  "Julian..." he starts to say, then takes another swallow of beer.  "Julian is... special."

"He is my sire, Frank.  The one who Embraces is *always* special, but Julian is *more*."

[Julian Embraced Sonny...] The thought gives Frank a twinge, and he is out of his chair again, facing away from his partner, his mind spinning. He does not know what to say to that, so he says the first thing that comes to his mind, which unfortunately is a question he was the most afraid to ask, but needed an answer to.  "Do you know Cash well, Sonny?"  He'd seen Cash in action when they tried to bring Starkweather down, the serial killer who'd been unfortunately Embraced as Gangrel.  Something about Cash...

"Not *well*, we are not the best of friends, he is Julian's head of security, we sit on the council of the primogen together."  Sonny takes a sip of beer.  "Hot headed sometimes, like all the Gangrel, but loyal."

Frank emits an ironic noise.  "Sounds like me, eh?  Hot-headed..."

Sonny sits back, hands steepled before his face in an unconscious gesture reminiscent of his sire and his sire's sire.  "Yes, in many ways, Frank, you are very much alike, you and Cash..." His voice trails off, considering the possibilities [Frank as a Gangrel, that's a thought...]

"There *is* one other thing about Cash."  He looks hard at Frank, trying to judge his probable reaction.  "About all the Kindred to some extent or another.  Gender means little to our passions, we *Kiss*, and embrace both men and women."

Something in Frank comes together, gives him the impetus to press on.  "Sonny," he murmurs, turning back around, "I think... I'm ready to accept the Embrace."  An immense weight seems to lift from him.

Sonny smiles.  "Well, women are my primary passion, but yeah, sometimes."

His throat goes dry even as the suggestion tugs at something within him, stirring the passion he felt since Alexandra.  To his surprise, he nods, understanding.  "The passions are such that...  I get it.  Wow."

"Your sire, whether male or female, may or may not be your lover.  But you will always have a bond with her....  or him.  Strong if you share blood often, weak if you do not.  Julian and I are not lovers, but Cash and Julian are."

The blood drains from Frank's face, hearing this.  But he gets a definite jolt of arousal thinking of Cash... and Julian... together.  It's then that he knows.  "Sonny... I can't be Ventrue."

"Why not?"  [I think I know, but you need to say the words.]  "It's the clan of princes, of power."

The mortal's hands are all over the place, gesturing wildly.  "That's the point!!  Damn it, Sonny, how the hell can I work with you as my partner on the force if you... you... you're my primogen!  I just do NOT think that would work."  He laughs ironically again.  "I'd make a lousy Ventrue, Sonny!"

"And your soul is called elsewhere, is it not?"  Sonny spreads his hands, gesturing calmness, "I can't see you as a power player in the corporate boardroom, either, to be honest."

"Me... in a suit?  Can't see it.  I've got way too much street in me."  Frank paces, still restless.

"The wise ones among us say that there is a 'best' clan for each fledgling-to-be, and one or two more that he would be relatively happy as, perhaps another that he could survive as and the rest...."  Sonny gestures a slash across his throat "... might as well just walk into the sunrise if you are Embraced by them."  He sighs again.  "I was lucky.  pure chance.  But *you*, my friend, have a choice."

There is a long silence, broken by Frank's footsteps on the hardwood floor.  "If you are truly ready, you will need to choose.  A clan at least, perhaps even your sire.  That's very rare indeed, you are very favored by Julian, you know."

A jolt goes through Frank at the gesture made by his partner.  "Tell me... tell me about the other clans, please, Sonny."  His voice is hollow, quiet.

Sonny nods.  "Three main division of us, the Camarilla -- who want to live in peace hidden among the mortals.  Julian and those beneath his hand."  Sonny looks to Frank for a nod of understanding.  "The independent clans who follow only their own agenda.  And the Sabbat, our mortal enemies.  I assume you are only interested in the Camarilla Clans?"  That last is almost teasing.

Frank gapes at him.  "Huh?"

"Frank, you have only seen the very edge of the Kindred, there is a whole culture here.  With ancient alliances and rivalries and possibilities from both your dreams and your nightmares."

Frank drinks down more beer, exasperated.  "Yeah, okay, but can you start me out easy?  Geez, Sonny!  What clans are here in San Francisco?  I mean, what are my choices??"

Seeing that he is mostly confusing the mortal, Sonny backs up.  "Okay, you know about the Ventrue and the Toreador - the artists, you've met Lillie."

Frank nods, remembering the luscious Lillie.  He smiles for a second, then sobers.  Clearly there is more.

"There are the Nosferatu - the scholars, but they are all somewhat disfigured and keep to the shadows for the most part.  There are a few crazy Malkavians and the new Tremere wizards.  And the Brujah, of course, Eddie's clan, but you won't go to *them* surely."

"All in all, perhaps the Gangrel are your 'best' clan.  You are enough of a maverick for them."

"Gangrel?"  Frank blinks at his partner.  "Is that... is that Cash's clan?"

"Yes."  Sonny watches closely for the mortal's reaction.  "Yes, Cash is a Gangrel.  You should get to know him better if you are drawn to them."

"I... I want to," Frank admits, swallowing nervously.  "I think I need to before I can... decide."

"Just because *my* Embrace was in a crisis doesn't mean that's normal.  You have the luxury of both time and choice, Frank.  Use that opportunity well."

Frank nods, feeling surreal.  It's starting.  

The End