Trump smiles smugly, satisfied with Mirella's reaction "Of course, of course. You just didn't know how quick I'd get control of myself, huh? Well, I'm tough, not just some child. This prince is such a dummy, thinking he can boss around the president of the United States. I know Wales, I've done business here, made a lot of money, but these people aren't so tough, they know America's stronger than them. That's why he brought me here, isn't it? He needs a real businessman to close the deal with this anty-die guy. I'll show him how good I am at dealmaking, he'll know how tough America is."
‘That’s… Perhaps close enough.’ Trump would have irritated Mirella but the aftereffects of his Presence lingered and so she didn’t mind his narcissistic rambling. She, after all, knew she was the real power in the room, and she knew the prince had spotted that right away. That’s why he made her matron of this brood of hatchlings, he could trust her, and knew her power. ‘We will get you weapons you can use.’
Morgan is still mostly frozen due to Divine Intervention, but this will start to wear off.
[1]
Very soon.
Mirella cautiously watches Morgan, she can see the swirl of emotion occurring in her aura but she seems outwardly calm. ‘You do not like this, do you? You are provided with unlife eternal and power beyond your imaginings and you cannot appreciate that?’
At hearing Mirella can't hear Count Spoonicus, Cesar frowns and looks genuinely sad. He whispers something unintelligable to Spoonicus and then looks back at Mirella before slowly turning to face Trump.
"Y-You're the President of the United States?! You must speak with Count Spoonicus, you can do dealings and things that world leaders do!" Cesar grins like a child on Christmas morning while gesturing towards the silver spoon in his left hand. "H-He's the Count of the Dinner Table!" Yes, let me converse with the President. It may be an unexpected appointment, but I can always make exceptions for President Trump.
‘Spoonicus is your guide, dear Cesar. None others can hear him, even Trump.’ Mirella looks to Spoonicus. ‘And though I can’t hear you, my dear Count, I do appreciate your presence and guidance of my Cesar.
"I'm satisfied. When do we begin, great mother?"
‘Now, I take you out to the armoury. You’ll meet Serge, and he’ll set you up with some basic gear. Those of you who are ready will learn to hunt.’ Mirella knows that the ultimate hunger a vampire feels will not yet be under their control. The moment they see a human again, they may simply lose control of their senses. They must be taught to resist this urge in a controlled environment.
"I'm sure the others have explained what's going on. I would have preferred a certain other of the personalities take control first, but she gave control to the vampire. Yes, I would be able to hear them as long as I'm quiet. Now, as to what 'President' Trump is saying. I'm not the right person to talk about this, but if you never heard of this prince before now, then he succeeded. If I understand the Masquerade correctly, vampires are not allowed to reveal themselves to the world at large. Matron, as to you panicking the other Ash, from what I could tell she panicked herself." Ash finishes talking to the others and mutters under her breath, "Lyssha should've been in control."
‘That is the curse of your condition, unfortunately, my dear. You may not choose who is in control or when. You may only work with what you have. Don’t think you won’t be useful though, you have great importance as part of the whole being that is Ash.’
Alright, well then, let's prove ourselves and get a bit of a homestead. Where do we start?
‘First you must be armed. Then you must learn self-control. The beast within you thinks only of food, and constantly so. If you can control it, then you may begin work for our prince.’
"Of course матрона, I welcome your tutelage."
((матрона=matron))
Of course. If you will move with me, I will introduce you to Serge. He will help to arm you.
Mirella had a skip in her step as she turned to the door. She will have everyone follow her out of the room and down an elaborately decorated corridor with beautiful vases, carved ceilings and seemingly ancient artwork decorating the walls. This place seems ancient, a perfectly preserved portrait of the past, yet it is lively and buzzing with activities. The corridor opens into a lounge dotted by old couches, a few vampires sit around, most are curious at the presence of the fledglings, some sneering to themselves. A group of brujah in the corner seem to be taking a wager of some kind. Mirella leads the team up to a counter at one end, it may have once been a bar but has since been converted.
‘Serge, I have your next victims.’ Mirella grins as she speaks to the man behind the counter.
Serge is at least 7 foot tall, and is an imposing figure with broad, muscled shoulders and a shaved head. A serpent tattoo snakes its way across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, the head resting on his bald head. In spite his intimidating figure, the man smiles warmly at the fledglings as they approach.