Which may explain why Rare Breed, the inforcered of the rules, who are a group of Mortals (admittedly very talented and well trained mortals, but on paper mortals non the less)
So in your red court example (which if you note from the rest of the background are not exactly 'welcome in the city since they were wiped out by a combined effort of all other factions around 200 years ago because they wouldn't play by the rules) a red court vamp turns up.
Option 1: Rare Breed's watchers clock him at the doc/airport/train station etc and he is approached by a large crowd that say 'back on the bus pall, your kind are not welcome here'.
Option 2: he gets into the city by some other route and has a go at a homeless person-A 12 foot tall bronze statue lands on his back and breaks it- your vampire is a squashed mess on the floor having not expected a a statue to move like that. (Dickie lewis doesn't like people hurting his friends). Local paper carries a story about people being killed by a collapsing wall or something.
Option 3: Red court makes the kill without anyone stoping him. Rare breed track him down and by pure weight of numbers plus all the tricks and items they have, kill him. if red court investigate all they find is that thier guy was taken down by the mortal authorities of the city, so he looks like a bit of a chump and they would probably want to keep that quiet.
Option 4: Red court makes the kill without anyone stoping him. Rare breed track him down but draw the conclusion he is too much for they to cope with on thier own. Request goes into the council for greater assistance.
What happen next depends on whoe in tray that request goes to:
A) Elijah gets it. Red court is approached by a 'fellow vamp' and invited to a party. Sex drug rock and roll distraction, whilst red court is 'distracted' party is raided by the police, and oh dear he was resisting arrest...
Back to option 3
B) Callum get it: red court finds himself getting on the next plane out of the city with a feeling he never wants to return and no idea why- because it's only breaking the laws if you mess with the minds of MORTALS
C) its full moon and wolves get it - 15 lycanthrope drag the red court member to Croxteth and feed him to 3 Loup garou. Whole thing is put down as an 'unfortunate accident, you know how these beasts are.'
D) the Fisher king get it. Under the accord, Longarm challenges the red court member to a duel, duel takes place out of the city and red court is given the option to walk and not come back.
E) china town gets it - hmmm. I think we'll just say he vanishes never to be seen again.
The thing is liverpool is a city where "You never walk alone." if you are one of them there is a solidarity and the rest will cover your back. They do not like outsiders interfering - just look at then history of the place: Militant labour under Derek Hatron, the effect they had on the sun news paper after Hillsborough. The way they drove off the moss side group during the 1990's drug wars. They may bicker between them selves but if the threat is from out side all gloves come off.
There is a bit in the final fiction that covers this. I'll pull it out and copy it across, see if that helps explain it.
In the end as far as the rest of the world are concerned - it is just one city, is it worth kicking the hornets nest? What are you going to gain from it any way? Better to leave them on their own in peace and let them get on with it. It's not like they are bothering any one outside the city.
Plus Like any source book, as a ref you lift out what you want and ignore the rest. If the council concept doesn't work for you, maybe rare breed are independent vigilantes under Ream. You could still use the Zanders as a lesser WCV house; The china town concepts can drop into any china town in the world; the militant feminists of the river witches could turn up in any city. The fisher king is a fairly solid legend across Europe so he and his 'grail knights' could be struggling to hold back the wasteland any where.
edit: to include fiction mentioned above -
End games
Angela stands in the V.I.P. Departure lounge of John Lennon Airport, staring out over the concrete as the plane is loaded.
A figure joins her, his cool blue eyes checking the scene himself. "So Miss Hughes, we have an understanding.” Ream states.
She moves closer to him, lowering her voice. “Why did you show me all of that?” She asks softly. “You could have just put me on the next plane home. I mean, if I didn’t know it I couldn’t write it at all.”
“Consider it a calculated risk Miss Hughes. I am not stupid. You will write your book. People will read it. People will come here. If they come here it is better if they come knowing that on our turf, you play by our rules.” He fixes her with a penetrating stare. “You see Miss Hughes, this is our city. I know there are factions out there who would be all too interested in us, and want to interfere, but it is not so simple. Should that tiresome group of wardens think they can come here and tackle our mages for their past indiscretions, they will discover they are facing more than just a wizard and his few apprentices; that there may be a whole load of faerie that might just have a say. And should the white court wish to dispute Elijah’s right to rule, well he may be a devil, but he the devil we know and he is our devil.”
“And the fisher King ?” Angela asks.
Ream smiles, it is wry and teasing. “Is just a sad man old man, who would want to hurt him?” He says.
She nods. “I’m not sure what I am going to tell my publishers. I don’t think this is what they were expecting.”
"Tell them whatever you want." He says. His eyes sparkles and there is a touch of a smile on his lips as he adds “Just be fastidious.”
"And if I don't?" she asks.
He looks her up and down."We have our ways." He assures her. "But I trust you."
"Really?" she asks, almost surprised.
He looks past her to Cale, discussing something with the steward, a brief smile touches his lips, then he says "Yes." He looks back at her, his eyes turning cold again. "Let me tell you a tale by way of illustration Miss Hughes. It's a true tale, so rather sad. On the 15th of a april 1989 there was an important football match, FA cup semi-final. I think by now you will have gather that is a religion in this town. It was in Sheffield, there were road works on the motorway, unexpected delays. Many of the supporters arrived late. As the start of the game approached there were a lot of people still out side. The authorities feared a riot. So they opened the gate to let the supporters into the ground. Back then, because of trouble between supporters, the standing area were surrounded by cages. Desperate not to miss the start of the game the crowd surged forward into the central enclosure rather than spreading out to the ones on the side, as they would have done if time was not so pressed. It was a disaster Miss Hughes. People caught between the mass of the crowd and the cage and it's concrete wall. Crushed. Trampled. Suffocated. 94 people died at the scene. Another died a few days later and the final victim had his life-support turned off 3 years later. 96 dead. 766 injured."
Angela looks at him, despite the coolness of the man she can see the pain recalling this is causing him.
"The city went into mourning. I have never known it so quiet. I recall strangers comforting each other at bus stops. The crowds at the memorial shedding collective tears. The mortals pulled together. The people of my city put all their differences aside for the greater good, and I have never been more proud. But that is not the point I wish to make." He says. His voice takes a darker tone. "There was a highly successful newspaper. Claimed to be the biggest seller in the country. They printed lies Miss Hughes. They said that our people attacked the emergency services and robbed from the dying and dead. They thought it would sell more papers that way so they did not talk of the bravery: of people sacrificing themselves to push children over the barriers; Of people pulling apart the advertising hoardings with their bare hands to make stretches; of people tearing down the cages to help people out. They thought to show us in a bad light was more profitable. It used to sell 200,000 copies a day in this city, but after that story, it’s circulation collapsed. All this happened before you were born, and yet to this day you can not buy that lying rag in this city. If any one sees you reading it you will be met with anger and you will be humiliated for your treachery. I have seen people put a lighter to it to make the point.” He leans forward. "And that is just what the mortals can do." He leans back.
"Got it." She nods. “Like it says on the scarf, You’ll never walk alone."
He smiles. "Exactly. Together we stand, an attack against one is an attack against all.”
