"Oh, I am at my wit's end, Hannah! My! Wits! End!" 

Two women sat in the cozy Cafe Azure in Tacoma's Theater District. The first one, at her wit's end, was Ann Dirchs. A freckled woman with wildly curling blonde hair and vibrant hazel eyes, and a Toreador, part of the Colosses of Tacoma, the artful faction that dreamed big and emoted bigger.

The other was Hannah Winther, the calm and collected new owner of the Cafe. She was a woman with a young face but wizened expressions, whose stark white hair remained in a smart braid while her bangs were brushed to fall over the left side of her face. Not only was she a calm and trusted confidant, but the Overseer of the neighborhood, the middle management that Baron Fiore trusts and employs to watch over the most important districts.

"I remember you mentioning when you came in. What is rushing you to the end? That is to say, what's bothering you?" Hannah asked, delivering a cup of herbal tea that is mostly aromatic for Kindred guests, and sitting down next to Ann.

"Well!" She began, sitting up to attention. "You remember how those awful creatures last year took my darling maison from me, yes?"

"Yes, the Sabbat was quite fond of much of the classic architecture around here."

"Well! Come to find out, those devious little creatures not only tore us asunder and ruined countless lives, but they fully cleared out my closet!"

"...How fiendish."

"RIGHT!? I had lines that had gone out of business a century ago! Luckily a good portion of what wasn't already ruined I've found in local antique stores, but I'm missing one of my most important dresses! I've looked all over town, I've even leveraged a few favors I still had up in Seattle, and nothin'!" Ann enunciated her words with various swings of her arms and hands, almost falling over in the process.

"What makes the dress so essential? You're certainly driving yourself up the wall for it." Hannah asked, making sure the cup didn't fall victim to her friends' mannerisms.

"Oh, Hannah darling, it was a gift from my first love! Certainly, you can understand my pain!" She whined out with impassioned emotion.

"Well, from an outside sort of sense. That is to say, not personally." Hannah couldn't help but give an awkward grin. But then an idea crossed their mind. "This dress, it's carried that intense emotion with it for a while now, yes?"

"I suppose you could say so, yes! I've certainly kept it in my finest dressers since I lost him." Ann perked up a bit, tilting her head like a confused pet.

A knowing smile crossed Hannah's lips. "I think there's one place you haven't been able to check. Come back later when I close up the shop, and I'll take you there." She put a hand of support over the other woman's, and Ann took great measures to resist the urge to wrap her into a full hug, as such a strong touch wasn't pleasant for the paler woman.

As promised, when night pressed ever onward, even the newly late-night cafe closed its doors, and the warmly dressed owner locked the door. Her wiry-haired companion was already present, kicking her legs restlessly until the two departed.

Down the steep hill of 9th Street, the pair only walked down two streets, three if you counted the strange hairpin turn of St. Helens Avenue. Geographically, the street they land on is merely known as Broadway. However, this specific city block has a different name: Antique Row. Aptly named for the plethora of antique and thrift stores along both sides of the street, filling a block already full of city history with personal history as well.

It was the true domain that Hannah Winther presided over, as not only did many Kine traffic through here, making it a valuable hunting ground, but many Kindred enjoyed perusing the past and remaining firmly in the heart of the city. 

As Ann begins to talk about this-and-that, Hannah quietly listens and leads her to a yellow building on the strip, the home of Sanford and Sons, a sprawling multi-level antique store that also houses several smaller businesses within its structure. But, none of these businesses are Hannah's destination.

"Hannah, darling, I don't want to snub you or anything, but I did already look here. I even asked the ghosts for help and they had nothin'!" She said, waving to the apparitions that weaved between the halls of the store.

"I'm sure you did, and I'm sure they didn't as well. What we are going for is a true treasure. That is to say, a well-kept secret." Hannah answered, putting a coy finger to her lips in a 'shush'.

The two weaved their way down the three floors, coming upon a tucked-away library at the bottom. Once they made sure they weren't followed, Hannah took them to a thin corner of the space, one hidden away by the walls, and tugged on the corner of a book.

Instead of releasing some hidden lever, as Ann expected, Hannah instead used the book like a knocker against the back of the shelf. Three, two, and then three times again she tapped, and a small vent opened up to their left.

"What does the humble raven take?" A canned voice asks.

"Never more than he needs." Hannah replies, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

The bookshelf swung open slowly a few seconds later, revealing an orange-lit staircase, illuminating Hannah's smile. "Welcome to the real antique row."

They soon found themselves in a large underground tunnel, decorated with banners and paintings along either wall, lit with elegant dim orange lanterns and seating to be found in various gathering places. Every once in a while, a room was off to the side of the hall, with some appearing to be carved while others seemed to be a part of whatever purpose this tunnel originally had.

Many people seemed to be merely conversing, or sharing a vessel picked for the evening, while others seemed to be making deals, trading secrets, or selling wares.

Ann's mouth was fully agape and at risk of becoming a fly's studio apartment before she finally mustered up the wherewithal to speak. "What is all of this?"

"Oh? Were you not listening before? I explained quite a bit after my dramatic introduction line..." Hannah asked, a bit sullenly.

"I tried to, but you began with a lot of distant past stuff that seemed real tangential, and I got distracted by everything else!" Ann replied.

The leading woman sighed. "Well, to reiterate in a briefer fashion, this is an underground market-slash-exhibition hall-slash-meeting space many local Toreador founded at the dawn of our presence in Tacoma. They gather to discuss, to trade, to sell, and to brag. It's not solely a Toreador establishment, as evidenced by myself, but it is an exclusive club nonetheless."

"Doesn't sound too far off from an Elysium." Ann noted, passing by another circle of conversation whose table smelled faintly of sandalwood.

"In truth, it isn't. Perhaps it is more authentic than a 'proper' Elysium. That is to say, the underground market does not discriminate between Anarch and Camarilla. Although, few Camarilla wish to make their way down here lately." Hannah explained further, winding deeper down the halls.

"I've seen a few people making sales here, do you think someone's trying to sell my dress?" Ann asked as the voices were growing more silent the further they went in.

"I don't know if her intention is to sell it, exactly, but I am quite certain someone down here has it. She is a...collector of sorts."

"Well, I'm prepared to pay any cost to get back what's mine!"

There was a silence as Hannah looked back towards her. "Be careful with words like that." Her voice lost the soft pillow at its edge for that singular sentence, and Ann made a squeak of confusion in response, tilting her head.

"Nothing," the softness returned, as did Hannah's gentle smile. "Just keep this tip in mind: when it comes to antiques, sometimes the story is the real antique."

A beat of silence passed. "That is to saaaaaay?" Ann tried to lead, earning a chuckle from her pale companion.

"Perhaps you should figure it out this time."

Soon, the voices from the main area could not be heard, and even the soft light of the lamps had faded. All that existed now was darkness and the faint sound of almost mechanical clicking.

But, Ann does not have to wonder or wander in the dark for long, as Hannah soon leads her down one final left corner turn, and brings her into a larger room, with a circular domed ceiling. The lights in here were much brighter than outside, but it was hard to perfectly see them as the room was filled with rack upon rack of various goods.

"Watch your step." Hannah said, putting her arm out and preventing Ann from walking face-first into a net of taut wire. 

"Mademoiselle? Are you available?" Hannah asked, the question echoing through the room despite its filled capacity.

The sound of clicking stopped, and as the sound of rustling could be heard, Ann saw an article of clothing fly through the air towards one of the racks attached to the ceiling, pulled by another thread.

A woman parted the curtain of coats and gowns blocking the guest's view of her, and Ann had no idea what to expect. But it certainly wasn't what she saw.