Author: Storyteller

Tonight’s Elysium was a courtly gathering like any other. The typical wheeling and dealing was on display along with puffery and pretension, not to mention a ridiculous number of closed door meetings in order for every Kindred to pretend to exclusivity.

Terribly boring. Even if half those meetings were with the Giovanni coming and going out of various meeting rooms while currying favor; a few jumped-up ancillae with pretensions of age; my predecessor, who continues her fumbling attempts to redeem the name of her clan from her Sire’s misdeeds, a glimpse of the Josian, who loves to give us only glimpses; and that Ravnos that likes to stir up trouble.

As if there were only one of those. Less so since that week. But she’s the one that has caused the most trouble in Chicago over the years, and all under the guise of resolving it. Someone ought to take her in hand, but Prince Rasmussen insists that she’s keeping herself under control. As if those people are ever under control.

The next evening, I arose to discover reports from local ornithologists of seagulls and raptors having pitched battles on the beaches of Lake Michigan. After sunset. While one would not typically consider these to be territorial battles over nesting area, I expended considerable effort to convince not only the local universities and colleges, most especially those with land bordering the lake, but five of Chicago’s six most prominent birdwatching societies that, in fact, this unnatural behavior was perfectly natural.

Six. Six birdwatching societies. I have ignored the Illinois Young Birders. Did you realize that the bluestockings have organized a birdwatching society? Their minds would be more challenged with a rigorous academic study of ornithology, rather than the mere gazing upon of birds.

Since the night of the ornithology mishap, I’ve been burdened by requests from the Josian and reports of roaring cattle.

May the spirit of Upton Sinclair preserve us all.

Prince Guenter Rasmussen has unveiled the renovated Uptown Theater and re-established it as not just a mortal sanctuary, but as an Elysium open to all in a triumph for the Ventrue – a jewel in the crown of the Camarilla which has been boycotted by the majority of Chicago’s Anarch Movement.

Which might make the rabble’s unlives difficult, since the Elysium in their West Side territory is under siege by Lupines who accuse their Constable of theft. The new Baron of the Anarchs, Henry Morris, claims that his Constable is innocent, but after a near-disastrous post-election summit with Prince Rasmussen, rumors have begun to circulate among the crème de la crème of Kindred society that the Anarch hierarchy is harboring not just Lupine-harassing thieves, but a forbidden bloodline. But what could be that forbidden?

It might be summer, but no one can forget waking up to out-of-season snow that gave the fashionistas among us couture-related palpitations before giving way to a non-stop – quite literally – two months of rain that led to a run on umbrellas. They could have worn fashionable raincoats, should such a thing exist, but a number of the local Kindred have taken to wearing primitive melee weapons about their persons, which don’t mesh well with

A red-haired man with a strange aura waltzed into the Uptown Theater with impunity about the same time as the rain, knocked down a row of said umbrellas like dominoes, then sidled up to Prince Rasmussen, the old Anarch Baron – oh excuse me, Advocate. The new one prefers the more archaic title. It quite implies vassalage, don’t you agree?

Regardless of title, former or present, the red-haired man with his aura certainly was smug during his little tête-à-têtes. Even the Keeper didn’t dare approach him.

Lately the news, mostly local talk shows, are full of doctors talking about of swamp gas seeping through the bedrock into the sewears and up. Breathing it means it gets into mortals’ bloodstreams. We all know what that means.

Sufferers have reported hallucinations, including blue-skinned giants, growling in the underground L lines or the Pedway, and sightings of prehistoric mammals at the Lincoln Park Zoo.

Preposterous.

At least one Michelin-starred restaurant is serving a giant-sized “auroch burger” this summer and promising a picture on the wall for anyone who can finish in five minutes or less. Intervention has been required; at least two of the Anarchs have had their pictures on that wall.

The swamp gas even seems to have permeated the Chicago River and Lake Michigan. Someone at the Yacht Club called the Coast Guard with a report of a Viking invasion.