<div class="floatleft"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Andrei Sokolov</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/46/87/4b/46874b6e6dbff3d743b541f5e3f36296.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Andrei Sokolov<br/><br/><strong>Clan:</strong> Tzimisce<br/><br/><strong>Nature:</strong> Bon Vivant<br/><br/><strong>Demeanor:</strong> Monster<br/><br/><strong>Concept:</strong> Sabbat priscus who's a Vegas gambler &amp; power broker<br/><br/><strong>Generation:</strong> 8th <br/><br/><strong>Personality:</strong> Andrei's personality is a conflicting one. He has, after his long unlife, learned to embrace the ideals of personal freedom and monstrousness, but he's also grown someone enamored of sin and iniquity as concepts. Can't have freedom or sin without some idea of being trapped or morality, really. He sees the kine as useful social experiment tools and as avenues of pleasure, but litlte more than that. Andrei was around for the founding of the Sabbat, and he's surprisingly more laid-back than many members of his sect. He went to Vegas because he saw it as a melting pot of human sin and took a large interest in gambling. He was quite good at it and generally loves bets or games of any kind. The more something teases, taunts, or titillates him, the more intensely he goes after it. <br/><br/><strong>History:</strong> Embraced in 1270 somewhere in what is now Russia by an ancient <em>voivode</em>, Andrei's beginnings were humble. He was a servant in a Tzimisce noble's house, a ghoul. His Sire saw promise in him, particularly when Andrei showed no mental distress at being Vicissituded into various forms and shapes. Andrei didn't take kindly to the fleshcrafting or the unwanted Embrace, but he bided his time. During the Anarch Revolt, he got his chance to seize power. He found his Sire, who was in torpor, and diablerized him, effectively raising his Generation...and earning him the rank of Priscus once the Code of Milan was finalized and the Sabbat was properly established.<br/><br/>Andrei didn't have any desire to stay in Europe after the formation of the Sabbat, so he headed to India for a time, but found that studying the philosophies of the Ravnos and nearby Eastern Kindred to be nothing short of infuriating, so he returned back to Europe, this time Spain. He stayed in Spain quite a while, a Lasombra archbishop aiding him in remaining both secret and safe. Finally, in the year 1900, Andrei grew tired of the Spanish heat <em>and</em> the archbishop, so he immigrated to the United States of America. At first, he headed towards the South, as Mexico was a place the Sabbat had strength in, but it reminded him too much of Spain and the stagnation he felt there. Andrei wanted to <em>enjoy</em> his un-life, not be trapped in endless Sabbat ritual and pseudo-church bullshit. As a result, he's got some hang-ups about religion in general. Vegas being the place of quicky-divorces, Andrei feels like he's found the exact amount of religion he's comfortable with--a public showing, but ultimately just lip-service that lets people get what they want.<br/><br/>The irony is that when he finally settled down in Vegas, he came into his own as a powerful Kindred...but he became <em>exactly</em> as his Sire was, the type of person to trap and fleshcraft someone against their will, simply for his own pleasure. The hypocrisy of this is lost on him.<br/><br/><strong>Kinks:</strong> Gender transformation (of his partners, not himself), bondage, NC, bloodplay</div></div></div><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><div class="floatright">(https://67.media.tumblr.com/92f9513dd7d9b9c82872ba466f43f5bb/tumblr_my4w16nemf1r2afqho1_500.jpg) </div>The beauty of Las Vegas was that it was a city meant to be truly enjoyed at night. Yes, it was still bustling during the day, but the iconic look of Vegas happened with the sun dipped below the horizon, when the moon showed her gleaming face over the dazzling lights and glitter of the Strip. It was not a city that was easy to live in; crime was always rampant in Vegas.<br/><br/>But that was what drew the Tzimisce known as Sokolov to it. Vice was his pleasure--not just his own vices, but the vices of others. There was no real sanctity in Laz Vegas in his mind--prostitution was legal, gambling was the city's lifeblood, and the entertainment industry thrived, which meant drugs flowed through Vegas the way fish swam in a river. It was just Vegas's natural state.<br/><br/>Sokolov had spent time cultivating a base of power in Vegas; he was arguably the most powerful Sabbat vampire in Vegas, having the rank of Priscus. Not that rank meant overly much in the Sabbat; either you were strong enough to pursue the sect's ideals, or you weren't. And Sokolov lacked for nothing in that department. While he did not ascribe to the pathetic Masquerade that the Camarilla indulged itself in, Sokolov acknowledged that it was easier on one's existence if you didn't shout your undead nature from the rooftops. A man could live the night life in Vegas with no one questioning him. Bit of blood on his collar? Someone would just ask if he won any money gambling and got rolled for his wad. Flesh too pale? Well, he was a night owl--no mortal could blame him for wanting to avoid Nevada's heat and sun. After all, Vegas was a jewel at night--why not just switch to night shift.<br/><br/>He didn't need to keep a Masquerade here. Mortals leaped head over heels to hide his nature for him.<br/><br/>What Vegas wouldn't provide were protectors for him during the day or mortals useful to carry out his commands. He'd had his eye on one such kine for a long time--Alberto Davide. He had managed to meet him more than once on the Strip. Mortal men with criminal ties and military ties were drawn to the Strip like flies to honey; they needed work, and the Strip would provide.<br/><br/>The first time he'd met him, Sokolov had used Vicissitude to look like a beautiful serving woman and slipped his vitae into Alberto's whiskey sour. That was the first stage of the blood bond. Sokolov had endeavored to be more clever the next time--he hadn't minded contaminating an entire case of cold beers kept during a comedian's show for the guests, and one of those beers made it to Alberto. Of course, Sokolov had given the first stage of the blood bond to about eleven other people at the juncture, but that hadn't mattered at the time. What had mattered was that Alberto was in the second stage of the bond. It was important they'd met at that point...so they had, and Alberto had been given a job offer.<br/><br/>It was hard to resist job offers when offered by someone there was an unnaturally induced attraction to. Vitae did that to kine.<br/><br/>Tonight, though, was the night he was meant to pay Alberto, and he also had an assignment for him.<br/><br/>Sokolov's personal haven was a gorgeous penthouse--slim white furniture,<em>nouveau</em>artwork, spacious...but what it didn't have were a lot of windows. Sokolov didn't exactly want it to be easy to burn him to a crisp. Inside his private bedroom in a specially hidden lockbox was a long box filled with soil from his homeland. He wasn't inclined to sleep away from it.<br/><br/>Alberto was meant to just protect this haven; Sokolov had given him a key to get inside, and he'd also kept a spare room for whenever he required that Alberto stay during the day. Alberto wasn't required to be near every night, nor ever every day--just when Sokolov needed him. Tonight was a test of the blood bond--giving him more....criminally minded work.<br/><br/>One thing Sokolov was not good at was technology. He liked it, but he was not well versed in it. It took the monster over thirty minutes to remember how to send a text to Alberto, but once he did, it was curt and said everything:<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: courier;">Return to the penthouse. There is work for you.</span></div><br/>