"It is a rare catastrophe, for a Fledgling to be away from their kind. Yes, all Kindred must endure a similar condition. Our always present hunger and the struggle to master The Beast permeates our entire existence. Every bloodline and every clan share this struggle. But while the challenge is of equal quality, it is of a different kind for each clan.

Clans and bloodlines are not social clubs or constructs. Each has its own compulsions and banes, which are almost entirely common knowledge at this point. But more than that, the basic essence and temperament of a clan member are different. The blood they have taken will ensure this. For instance: Both the Ventrue and Toreador clans thrive on social dynamics. They're compelled to ingrain themselves in both kindred and mortal society and have a shared love for material possessions.

But, generally speaking, the Ventrue focus is on power and influence. Friends and wealth are only as desirable as their utility. All are in the service of building an enduring and manageable system of power. The Toreadors are both simpler and more esoteric in their social questing. They enjoy a thing for what it is and try to discern the inner nature of their desire. They love the thing for the thing itself, as the Greeks used to say. It is a romantic outlook, which can sometimes give way to obsession.

A fledgling will never be able to navigate such nuances without a mentor. And no outside mentor will help them find their identity in the way a fellow clanmate will.

Translated from old German texts recovered from Prague.

Author unknown, but likely of Clan Tremere.

*********

"Shit...not again." Jessie had broken yet another bed.

That was no joke. Most vampires were still during their day sleep, but Jessie had the rare privilege of being able to toss and turn during it. This was mostly due to the many nightmares she'd had of late. They were a common occurrence before in her earlier years, mostly amounting to weariness, not unlike a hangover.

These days, the nightmares were of such intensity that she would flail about during what was meant to be her safe rest. Resulting in the destruction of whatever she might be sleeping on, and most things near it.

"That's kind of a good thing, right?" This thrashing about, coupled with Issacs's rigorous strength training, ensured that Jessie could unconsciously break most objects around her with ease. The beds previous to this fourth one were some of the luckier casualties.

Isaac would have been happy to get another, but this latest breakage convinced Jessie not to ask.

"I'll just move to the ground floor and get a futon. No more furniture breaks." She would have knocked on the wooden desk across the room. If she wasn't so afraid to break it.

Annoying as her furniture troubles were, they certainly weren't the main concern of her time. Especially on this very special day. She didn't know the exact details, but Isaac and his staff never missed an opportunity to tell her: "Prepare yourself!". Considering all the troubles of months past, Jessie had a good idea of tonight's agenda.

Since Amaya's death, the entirety of the Phoenix Camarilla was being rebuilt from the ground up. Some old faces would remain of course, specifically those that had helped against the recent troubles, but new kindred would be assigned to old offices.

As one of the key players in Amaya's downfall, and the repulsion of Inquisition forces, Jessie was a natural candidate for key offices. Most in her position might feel honored. Not Jessie though.

"Yay, more red tape." Of course, Jessie didn't expect to be catapulted to the top of the pyramid, or to be left outside of the command structure entirely. But she'd hoped not to serve through any more pretentious elders or ancillae with an inferiority complex. That shouldn't be too much to hope for.

So it was with a heady mix of feelings that Jessie prepared her attire for the evening. Her room, her own room for the first time in years, was lavishly decorated. Most of the late princes' possessions were destroyed with her mansion, but the basement and all the plunder within were untouched.

Jessie received the first pick of the loot considering how long she'd suffered under Amaya's reign, and how instrumental she'd been in her fall. Glass chandeliers, velvet curtains, and hand-carved dressers and chairs from so many different cultures and eras that Jessie hadn't finished counting.

Most importantly of all, many of the occult objects in Amaya's hoard were up for grabs. And while several of the texts had been greedily taken by the Tremere mages, many talismans and tablets were now kept safe in Jessie's appreciative hands. She'd even learned how to focus her Oblivion powers with them. And was building up to perform a true necromantic ritual.

Despite all these luxuries, Jessie had no interest in changing her wardrobe. Not by much anyway. She still kept to the brands one could find in any thrift store and refused most designer clothes gifted to her. Yes, many kindred had tried to by their way into Isaac's graces through her.

Still, she knew she had to appear suitable for whatever her new office was. A simple white blouse, a black pencil skirt, and some not too high-heeled shoes would be fine. She wore stockings as well. She had no idea why she liked them but had started wearing them as well as knee socks one night and never went back.

"I think they make me look classy. And they feel so warm."

With all the superficial tasks out of the way, Jessie made her way to Isaac's office. They still lived in the Montrose Enterprise factory. As did most of the staff working there. This would not remain the Court for long, but until a new Prince was chosen and could establish a new Elysium, all general business would be brought and handled here.

"Hello, Jessie!" Most of the ghouls and revenants here knew Jessie by name and happily greeted her. It'd been awkward at first but eventually, the young vampire had relaxed to the point where she could return their greetings.

The factory floor was surprisingly quiet tonight. There were many employees talking among themselves and attending to paperwork, but the machines were off and the air was tense. Something had happened recently.

"Everyone's still breathing and saying hi...someone new must've walked in."

Nothing else piqued Jessie's interest. So once she made it to Issac's stately though understated office, she knocked on his door.

"Jessie? Come in my dear." The Archon seemed in a good mood, perhaps even excited. "There's someone here for you."

Jessie did as she was asked, opened the door, and nearly tripped with her new heels on the thick carpeting.

"This is the young woman I spoke of." Isaac was seated on his desk rather behind it and wore his usual toothless and not quite full smile. Though he did seem very proud when speaking of his latest protege. "Jessie, say hello to our guest."

"Good to meet'cha hon." The guest in question was a youthful-looking woman, clad head to toe in biker leathers. She was a petite gal, though quite buxom, and had a head of gorgeous and curly red hair that reached her thighs. "Name's Clare, I've known Isaac since the fifties."

"Nice to meet you too." Jessie felt odd next to this newcomer. There was no exact description for it. This instinct, for it was so primal, seemed an odd mix of familiarity and defensiveness. As if a close but far more glamourous family member were making the others self-conscious. "I'm sorry, I hope I didn't interrupt."

"I invited you in my dear, you're perfectly fine." Isaac looked so cheerful as if he were introducing two friends and showing both of them off to the other. "Clare shall be the new Sheriff of Phoenix. During the interregnum at least. After that, she can do whatever she likes." He chuckled, even shaking his head smiling a thin but toothful smile. "Which she always does anyway."

"I like moving around, there's a lot to see in the world." Clare seemed like an older sister coming to visit her younger but more responsible brother. Not many vampires smiled, not in an honest or non-terrifying way at least. Clare's smile was honest, open, and ran ear to ear. There was a history between these two. 

"I'm also Clan Hecata, like you." Clare delivered this information as if she were a first grader talking about her favorite dinosaur. "Lamia bloodline, if you wanna get all technical."

"Oh? Really?" Jessie was surprised by this. The only other Hecata she'd really known was her sire, Ian. And he was a piece of shit through and through. Clare seemed vibrant compared to him and did not reek of any of the insecurities that were all too present in Ian. "I didn't know they were many of us in the Camarilla."

"Your sire was not at all respected by his fellows." Isaac was ever the teacher, but did nothing to disguise his contempt for the dearly departed Ian." And as such, he had neither the means nor the right to school you on the various intrigues of your blood." There was a tinge of regret in his voice. From what though? "Suffice to say, the various bloodlines of Clan Hecata are unified, but independent in nature."

"Isaac's being nice. Most of us are mercenaries." Clare's laugh was as full as her grin. Both only increased as she saw Isaac's eyes roll. "But I've been a regular in the Cam for a while now, like he said."

"And you're going to be one of her Hounds." Another small but apparent surge of pride from Isaac Sharpe. 

"I...I'm what?" Jessie had expected some kind of administrative position. Being a Hound meant helping to enforce the masquerade, hunt down rogue or out-of-control vampires, and generally answering only to the Sherriff and the Prince. Or Archon, as the case may be. "Wow, that's way different from what I expected."

"But yeah. I'm honored and pretty excited for this actually." This wasn't too different from her old job. She was still hunting down enemies of the Camarilla. But now she wasn't enslaved to a crazy sadist and she wouldn't need to do deep cover nonsense. "Is there like a ceremony or something like that?"

"Nope, we're starting right now." Clare flashed her teeth even brighter, tossed her hair to the side, and put her surprisingly large right arm around her new protégé. "This is gonna awesome hon, just wait."

"B-but I don't even know what to-" Jessie couldn't even get a word in as Clare practically carried her out of Isaac's office.

All the while she was leveling compliments, saying hi and bye to the different office workers, and regaling her with small anecdotes about her previous outings.

"I remember some shovel-head in Houston tried to hit me with a fucking baseball bat. Really? A baseball on a Vampire? Was he fucking stupid?" More laughter, more bravado, more unnatural liveliness from a supernatural creature. "Doesn't matter. Because I slapped it out of his hands and broke his head off with it. Broke the bat too!"

"Shovel-head?" Jessie knew she'd heard that term before, but couldn't remember what it meant. "I think Ian said it once or twice, but I never found out what he meant."

"Just stick with me, hon. By the end of the week: you'll know more than you ever wanted to about every kind of asshole the night has to offer."