Old and new

The Uber did not need much encouragement to drop Mira off and leave quickly. Mira knew she would need a ride home later. Someone would help her for a price. [i]Nights like this were always expensive[\i] she thought to herself and sighed.

She needed a ghoul and a car, maybe one of those nice young Navy or Marine Aviators. Most aviators were smart, ambitious, well disciplined, loyal, good candidates for the Tramere. Top Gun had not helped with this thinking. She still had a bit of the mind of an young woman even if she no longer had the urges. Being Russian might also put a bit of a damper on that plan, but a girl can dream, even an undead one, while she walks into a den of vampires.

As she approached the house, she rolled her eyes at the Voodoo Van that brought the Priomogen to the party. This was worse than she had been told when she was sent here by her Sire. She wondered about what he was getting for her presence here.
She reminded herself to be nice, the Priomogen was the Priomogen and could teach her things if she wanted. She also controlled access to the library so she could work on improving her magic. Most important she had control over her.

The breaking news about the attack on the radio made her feel a bit… Nervous and unprotected.

She knocked at the door and showed her invitation. She walked in like a ballerina, back straight, hands just so. Her long hair, nails, and skin was perfect. She wished she had brought her staff, but there was no real need for that. It would have been for show anyways.

She was advertising for the spa she was planning to open as well as the formalities of the introductions required by the court.

When it was appropriate, Mira approached the Prince and Primogen and did a low ballerina reverence. The bow was very low and formal and showed the fullness of her dress. She bowed her head slightly and both legs touched the floor. She had been in ballet classes as a child, but her breasts and hips gave her the wrong look and that ended any dreams of being a Prima Ballerina. Her Sire had hired a Ballet Master just to work mainly on her formal bow for court. Now she was using it. They would not recognize the two years of daily work that went into this.

“My Prince and Primogen, I am Turfanova Mira Inanovana of house Tremere. I offer what service I can provide to my Prince and present myself to the Court of New Orleans and ask to be received for admission,” she said in French.

Her old prince was a Tremere and if the form were not perfect, well. Tremere can be nasty when they do not feel respected.