The new forums will be named Coin Return (based on the most recent vote)! You can check on the status and timeline of the transition to the new forums here.
The Guiding Principles and New Rules document is now in effect.
[IC] Vampire: The Masquerade | Southern Hospitality
cj iwakura
The Rhythm RegentBears The Name FreedomRegistered User regular
The Rhythm RegentBears The Name FreedomRegistered User regular
Southern Hospitality: a World of Darkness Vampire Chronicle
Animis opibusque parati
Animis opibusque parati
Upon rousing from your slumber for the evening, you discover a envelope waiting within your Haven, addressed to you in formal writing.
The envelope is sealed with a familiar insignia, emblazoned in red.
The contents appear to have been hand-written with the same formality.
Esteemed Kindred from other regions,
It has come to my attention that several of you have recently entered my domain.
As with all regions operating under the veil of the Camarilla, your presence, whether temporary or otherwise, is welcome.
In keeping with tradition, you are formally invited to attend this evening's Elysium, which will transpire at the St. Andrews Church in the township of St. Andrews.
I strongly request that any means or thoughts with which acts of violence may be incurred remain at your Havens, as proper protocol will be strictly enforced.
As the venue is one that several consider sacred, I do hope that this expectation goes without saying.
Rest assured, our Elysium is secure, and the First Tradition will be similarly enforced.
Should you find the place of our gathering troubling, or otherwise not to your liking, such complaints are to be composed in a message, to be left where you discovered this invitation, and I will see into alternate accommodations.
However, whether faithful or not, I trust you are not the sort to let such a thing as a building's spiritual affinity prevent your attendance.
The gathering will formally begin well into the late evening, though early arrivals are commonplace.
This is more of a social event than a formal gathering, so attend at your leisure.
Be advised that should you arrive during especially early hours, those not of our Kin will likely still be in attendance.
Through whatever means, I look forward to making your acquaintance.
I expect not to be disappointed.
By my Hand, in Camarilla's name,
Natasha, Prince
Attached to the letter is a small map, which contains individualized directions from the reader's Haven to St. Andrews, and the aged church located at its outskirts.
Arrivals will discover that the dark building is all but derelict, and seems to have existed, unchanged, in the very same location for decades, if not centuries.
The towering steeple is the first immediately visible aspect of the Church, namely its rustic bell, and the large wooden cross secured to the faded exterior.
Despite the practically ancient material that was used in its construction, the building appears quite durable. Judging from the calendar fastened to a wall near the towering wooden doorway, the venue remains a popular venue for worship and other related activities to this day.
Whether you arrive at evening, the middle of the night, or even the earliest of morning hours, you will discover a man beside the door, waiting without falter for the entire time.
The figure seems content to pass the time smoking. Despite his ragged clothing and unshaven appearance, it seems not a single individual entering goes beyond his notice, nor will any who attempt entry carrying weapons of any sort.
____________________________
OOC/fine print:
All posts here should only be made by those within the game, and are strictly for conveying the actions and words of their characters.
The players are as follows:
-Firematic.
-Hylianbunny
-MundaneSoul
-Raslin
-Shamus
-Wildcat
[strike]-Cardboard Tube
-Sisters of SEXY
-The Laughing Man
-KrataLightblade
-lonelyahava[/strike]
Dice rolls, if and when needed, should be posted in a Spoiler Tag, ideally using Invisible Castle.
All out-of-character proceedings should be posted within the OOC thread.
cj iwakura on
0
Posts
He pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. He wasn't really sure why he smoked anymore, he never felt any satisfaction out of the actual tobacco anymore. Still, it felt nice to relax for a few minutes, with something easy to do. He kept an eye on the other man smoking, but didn't pay him too much attention. He mainly was focused on why he had been given such a personal invitation to Elysium, something he wasn't used to.
Is there anyone even in there? Maybe its all a trap... A personal invitation, to a church... But who could I have angered to make that happen? Maybe I'll wait around until I see others go inside...
3ds friend code: 2981-6032-4118
Damn
Tristan made her way towards the church, her classic black shoes made little noise on the cobblestoned sidewalk as she turned and walked into the parking lot. She made a casual glance over those gathered there, the man at the door, and Caleb.
A smile came over her face, though she did little more than that, walking up to Caleb and standing to his right, and then moving in front of him. Her evening wear was simple, an ivory satin dress that hung from shoulders of almost the same color and fell to just above her knees. Her brown hair was swept up in a simple, but almost luxurious looking do, soft curls that should have been both impossible and unnatural on her hung down over her ears and brushed against the curve of her neck, still a fair peach color, even now.
Tristan waved in greeting to Caleb, and gestured to the cigarette that he was smoking. She pulled a black lacquered cigarette holder from her clutch and made a quizzical gesture with a tilt of her head and a raising of her eyebrow, her smile never fading.
It was nice to see a familiar face.
Democrats Abroad! || Vote From Abroad
"Well, if 7pm is early evening, and 12pm is midnight...or is it am? I guess it doesn't matter. That means mid-evening would be 9:30...so late-evening would be...10:45? Or is late evening mean the same thing as early morning? Well, the note did say I could come early, and as it seems the party has not decided to come to me, I guess I should go. Let me read it again.
Yep, well, I guess this is it.
Wait, let me refresh.
<mirshaan goes over the pictures again, muttering names before he flips them over>
I must thank Sir Haman for getting me these things. Do we even show up in normal cameras? I'm stalling again. I think. Well, I guess this is it.
<he looks around his vehicle>
Well, if anyone is going to steal anything, they'll go for the Japanese one. Shiny. I wonder if it comes in my size?
<Walking to the building, Mirshaan tries to keep a low profile. He does not want to be spotted outside, and despite fearing the gathering, is more afraid of being stopped outside. He dashes to the door, past several people who were not on his photos, and enters briskly>
If the locals were so brazen as to send ghouls into a Kindred's haven during the day, then Joseph would have to take extra precautions. He was, to say the least, nonplussed. Penny was going to just love hearing about this little breach of tradition and etiquette.
Still, if they'd gone to the trouble, it was probably important. Joseph felt it would've been more polite to simply leave it in the mailbox, though. He'd've checked that before going out. He resolved that he'd have to have a few words with some people about that... He wondered for a second whether this was normal for Columbia... or whether he was being singled out.
Damn it, Christopher, you did enough with all your other 'presents', did you have to give me your fucking paranoia, too?, the Gangrel thought to himself, adding a few more swears at the end just for good measure. He let himself rage about it in the privacy (he hoped) of his own mind for exactly five minutes, then determined to stop stewing over it, and went to get dressed.
Elysium. And a church, no less. Well, good, at least he wasn't expected to wear a fucking suit or something. Still, he didn't much go for the Brujah Biker Chic that a lot of his clanmates back West had. And this was the South, now. You want to fit in, you dress like a fucking hick.
Then again, he didn't want to fit in that much. But he didn't want to stand out, either. So I guess fuck it, casual it is. He got himself a pair of clean jeans (this place wasn't that nice, but it had a laundry room... he'd hate giving that up. Laundromats were not his favorite places... At least he didn't shed dead skin anymore. There were perks to being dead all over, and not just a little around the edges...) and a heavy shirt. He did make sure to grab an umbrella and a jacket for the rain outside. It was pretty nasty out...
It was a long walk to the church, but Joseph didn't have much choice. He couldn't afford to waste money on a taxi. But he got there. Bet the Ventrue have a full-on shuttle service if they want it. Bastards. He wasn't happy about being drenched, but hell, it wasn't like he'd get pnumonia. Unfortunately, the umbrella didn't help much.
Joseph was pleased to see there was someone watching the door. He didn't now if this raggedy sonofabitch was the local scourge, or just one of the Sheriff's bullyboys, or hell, the Sheriff himself, but he was happy to say he also didn't care. He gave the man a long level look from a distance, then went for the door, casual-like. He'd remembered to bring along the invitation (in a plastic baggie so it wouldn't get ruined by the rain... fuck them if they'd have that easy an excuse to throw him back outside...), so he felt pretty confident that he belonged here, as he headed inside out of the rain. He was actually a little surprised that he wasn't asked to show proof of invitation.
Huh. Must've gone to everybody...
Again he wondered if the locals had gotten the same B&E treatment he had...
He'd have to invest in a guard dog or something in the future... Yeah, that was a good idea. Guard dog. Big one. Fucking Great Dane or something.
He'd have to think about that. First, though, there was the "party" tonight. Which was good, even if it wasn't important... he needed to get the lay of the land here, and that meant watching Elysium. And, if possible, avoiding pissing off the Harpies too much...
And look at that. Someone's smoking...
Why the hell the locals let people get away with that, he'd never understand. It took balls to pull it off, and in Joseph's experience, the Camarilla was a singluarly emasculating force of balllessness. Note to self. Talk to that guy. But don't let anyone fucking see me doing it, just in case.
He thought about making a remark to the two standing in the rain, one smoking like it still mattered. But as much as he wanted too, he didn't want to be soaked for, what could quite possibly be his public execution. It was only a matter of time before someone came sniffing his way.
He stepped inside, past the doorman.
"What, you want a cigarette? You should have said so." He said, with a chuckle. He pulled out a cigarette, handed it to her, and offered a light.
"I wish I had been given more notice for elysium, you know." He said, looking towards the church. "I had plans tonight... nothing important, but I'm getting shafted by Jack Daniels. Its practically cheaper for me to buy whiskey at the store, than to get it directly from them. Still, though, I'm sure I'll get their representative to see it my way..."
Caleb dropped his cigarette to the ground, and put it out. He was wearing his normal attire, though some would probably think it business casual; A suit and tie, black slacks, and a nice pair of black loafers. He also had his briefcase, which he hoped the man standing guard wouldn't check. It wasn't that he had anything to hide, he just preferred to have his privacy.
"Anyways... when you ready to go in, I am." He said to Tristan, as he checked his pockets. Not that he suspected anyone of wrongdoing, he just had a tendency to lose what he put in them.
3ds friend code: 2981-6032-4118
{For those of you who are locals to the city, you would know him as Ezekiel Cooper. He is a low ranking member of the local Tremere whom most locals don't pay much attention to. Zeke is known for being rather unremarkable and simple minded but often displays incredible levels of insight from time to time.}
Zeke reaches the parking lot and begins to walk towards the Caleb and Tristan. As he walks towards them, he cracks a very distinct ivory smile. When he reaches them he says, "Good evening my friends, I hope this evening finds you two well. I hope that the business of this evening's Elysium will not be too severe." He extends a gloved hand to each of the kindred one by one.
"I am Caleb Lajoie, and this is Tristan. Mute, so don't mind her not introducing herself," He said, glancing over at Tristan. "Its raining pretty hard, I'm surprised you walked, at least with no umbrella."
3ds friend code: 2981-6032-4118
She looked up as Zeke walked over and offered him a small nod, but she kept her eyes glued to Caleb and Zeke's lips as they spoke to each other.
She had taken Zeke's hand when he'd offered it to her. Tristan's movements were precise, genteel, and exacting. She watched them both speak and nodded where she agreed with their words, and remained still when she did not.
It took her only a few moments to finish the cigarette, and she removed the butt from the holder with a dainty motion and tossed it upon the ground of the church parking lot. Taking a look around at the others arriving, she made a slight motion with her head and hands.
The first motion to get Caleb and Zeke's attentions, the other gestured towards the church. There might not have been any words said, but the meaning was clear.
Shall we?
Democrats Abroad! || Vote From Abroad
Those who enter find that regardless of the sound, few if any gazes turn in response to their presence.
The interior is far from welcoming.
The entrance gives way to an expansive length of space, designed in a rectangular build.
A few dozen pairs of pews line the singular aisle which leads to a distant altar, the path lined with the dim glow of flickering candles; the only source of light given to the otherwise dark interior.
The altar is by far the most well-lit feature in the chamber. Numerous candle-lit flames highlight the crimson table cloth they've been arranged upon, in addition to the stained glass mural behind it.
The depiction of a gathering of angels around the cross at its center is a striking contrast to the rest of the church.
The inconsistent light offers the center of worship a peculiar color tone. Shadows line the walls furthest from the aisle, obscuring much of them from view. Even the rows of pews made visible by the light echo with a darkened tint, likely the result of the dark cherry wood they were crafted from.
It is clear that the hour is far too late for those not of blood to be in attendance. Among the persons scattered within the interior, the visages that can be seen each possess a pale countenance.
As many as eight, maybe nine persons are seated. Most waiting impatiently for some unforeseen event to take place.
Far less have their heads down in prayer. Three in all; two clearly female, one male, though little can be discerned of their character beyond this.
The others seem to be doing everything in their power to appear out of place. One well-dressed male is situated to the immediate left of the aisle, with his arms stretched out across the emptied space at either side of him.
Further back, a studious-looking woman waits at the far right of her respective pew, as distanced from the aisle as can be.
She is one of the few who takes notice of the arrivals, with an attentive look from behind thin, clear spectacles.
While the rest are too far distanced from the point of arrival for a glimpse of their actions, the numerous candles around the entryway suggest that each arrival is made highly visible to them, should they wish to look.
Above all, the interior is silent. For all the signs of impatience, a word has yet to be heard, only the occasional sounds of idle movement.
In noticing the ceramic container of holy water nearby, it is then that the Hispanic male can be seen beside it, watching those before him with a fixed gaze.
It's a wonder that he went unnoticed until now, despite his common build and manner of dress.
To those before him, he speaks in a tangible Mexican accent, in otherwise fluent English.
"Have a seat."
______________________
Outside, the rain continues to pour, without delay.
Thunder trembles in the distance, and signs of lightning suggest the ongoing storm is nowhere near past.
The man at the door glances up, and over to the trio occupied in conversation a distance away.
"If you're going in, get a move on. We don't have all night."
In this case, she would follow Zeke and hold onto Caleb's arm.
He was French. He would understand.
Her green eyes would take less time to adjust within the dimly lit church than others might, and she made a cursory motion with her right hand that might, or might not, have been crossing herself before the entrance.
France was a Catholic country, after all.
She glanced around at all that were present, gauging them as best she could, and catalouging them to the best of her abilities.
Her back, however was to the Mexican gentlemen, so she did not react to being told to have a seat. She would follow Caleb's lead, of course. But she did not sit on her own volition.
Democrats Abroad! || Vote From Abroad
Crossing his arms, he eyed the two from before, Caleb and Tristan, who were now joined by Zeke. He recognized them from one of the very few earlier meetings he had attended, but made no attempt at greeting them. Instead, he let his gaze drift elsewhere.
I really have better things to do than sit in a damn church, staring at the walls
He looked at Tristan as she sat down. He wondered why they were as close to eachother as they were. Perhaps it was making up for the fact that he had little female companionship in his mortal life, though he could hardly fix that mistake now.
"I'm surprised; they found a way to make elysium even more dull and uncomfortable..." Caleb said to Tristan, in a nearly soundless voice.
3ds friend code: 2981-6032-4118
Opening them, he grips his cane slightly more tightly in his hand and, leaning on it for support, walks over to the two figures and sits nearby, with Tristan standing between him and Caleb. He regards them with open interest.
"I wonder when this thing is going to start...maybe your reaction to the test is part of the test? Why do I suddenly feel like tacos? I do hope no one is getting killed tonight, at least not me."
Then again, if they were all that fucked up, Chris'd never have worried about them so much... Joseph eyed the man again, more thoughtfully this time, but looked away before he attracted too much attention for staring. He still hadn't spoken to anyone else, he seemed to prefer listening to the conversations around him for now.
If there's one thing you ever taught me, Christopher, it was that if I can't be smart, be quiet. Joseph, were he still breathing, probably would've sighed, and his head did shake, just a little, at the memory. Chris...
Idly, Joseph made a point of getting a good look at everyone around who let him, and to amuse himself while waiting, made up little stories for them in his head. The one he'd caught smoking and the ladyfriend he'd been smooth-talking ended were obviously, for example, Jimmy and Jessy Bondy, the worst secret agents ever. Their new friend, with the cane, became a doddering old sort. Joseph amused himseld with the thought of his beating the other two around the head and shoulders with his cane like one of those carmudgeons on TV.
A moment later he let his gaze pass off of them, and looked towards the pulpit. Candles--Joseph wasn't fond of that-- being the only light, and pews facing front. He wondered if he'd have to sit through a sermon. Christ, if I ever hear another sermon in my life I might go insane. Chris killed those for me.
Still, he wondered who was going to be here... and whether he'd get his chance to confront them. He was no master of the game, but he'd come to a decision; he remembered a Brujah from back in Seattle who won quite a bit of renown by challenging one of his elders's decisions openly, and while he'd eventually lost the debate, the attempt, and the skill he'd shown by doing it intelligently, had forced others to respect him.
Joseph wasn't, unfortunately, quite as canny as that brujah, but he also lacked the legendary Brujah temper. Maybe he could do something similar... and avoid having that respect stripped from him in a single fit of ill-advised rage... A smile crossed Joseph's face, and he settled back to wait. New city, new life, new chances.
And no fucking Sire to fuck him up this time.
And then, Dr. Mettin sat near by and Tristan turned her green eyes towards him. They caught a bit of the candle light in their pale, almost lettuce colored pupils and reflected in them as she looked over Dr. Mettin, looking the seemingly doddering old man up and down with a curious look on her face.
They had been seated a few spaces back from the Altar. Hmm, Hopefully whoever was going to be speaking tonight would not be too hidden in the candlelight, otherwise, she might not be able to tell what they're saying.
Tristan frowned for a bit and then reached into the satin purse, pulling out her small notepad and pencil, writing a quick note down and then handing it to Caleb as discreetly as she could, what with the Dr. staring at them.
Democrats Abroad! || Vote From Abroad
His line of sight passes over the assorted persons in attendance, as if taking a silent head count, before turning towards the wall, gradually fading from view into one of the more shadowed alcoves. One can only assume that the male is waiting against the wall, for lack of an apparent exit, though the darkness leaves that almost impossible to confirm.
The silence persists in wake of the man's departure, with the exception of a lone individual's muttering, which creates quite the attention-getting echo.
None seem to take notice, with the exception of the ever-attentive female seated across the way from the mutterer.
A skeptical look is given, though the person is soon looked away from in favor of appraising the other occupants. The trio... the solitary ones... the one seemingly dead set on being the last one seated. Yet it would be the dark-skinned one that received a look of recognition from her. Despite this clear signal, the woman does not act on it, and turns towards the distant altar, as if on cue.
One of the three occupied in prayer utters something under her breath, and makes a gesture that seems to mirror that of crossing one's self. As she rises to her feet, it is then clear that this female is within closest reach of the altar, and the pulpit beside it.
It goes ignored, in favor of making her way to the table, turning to face away from it in surveying of the sparsely-arranged gathering.
As if her previous occupation in prayer hadn't been indicative enough of her religious ties, the silver cross necklace settled against her sternum seemed a likely confirmation.
The auburn-haired female's attire walked a careful line between formality and casual wear, as the ebon jacketed suit she favored that evening was far removed from what she genuinely considered 'formal'.
It had the benefit of matching her eyes, if nothing else.
Those who had already been in attendance before the arrival of the invited had already given the woman their attention. In case the rest did not extent the same courtesy, the firm, well-accented tone of voice which echoed throughout the church would soon assure it.
"I apologize for the abrupt change of plans, fellow Kindred. I will do my utmost to ensure this is a short-lived relocation."
Natasha paused, as each hand rested across the cloth surface behind her, unpainted nails settled upon it before continuing.
"You've kept up with the news. These are dangerous times. Events are taking place, the sort that I do not welcome. Until I've assured the safety of our gathering, we will meet here until the threat is past."
Murmurs of discontent came in subdued response, most from those seated as far back from the Prince as could be.
"If you're that displeased, then by all means, return to Columbia, and spare no haste in turning to dust."
The murmurs fell silent.
"While our investigations continue, I've requested that some of you look into any unusual incidents on the outskirts of the city. Townships such as this, for instance. You know who you are, and what I expect of you."
Leaving the statement to echo for a small time, Natasha soon looks towards the unfamiliar faces with a comparatively relaxed tone of address.
"And as I've already mentioned to those new to my domain, I extend our welcome, more formally than the prior means. You do understand the need for such caution, I trust.
Should there be no objection, I bestow upon each of you the Status of Acknowledged, in event that any of you lacked this prior to your arrival."
A moment's wait gave continued silence. "Good. You may all carry on with your business, as needed. I will be here for some time if any of you have matters that require my attention."
Some took this as their cue to leave, including each of the two that had been praying since before the speaking.
The man seated near the back was the first one to exit, signified by the loud creaking that accompanied his departure. The howling rain from outside followed, until the door came to an audible close soon after.
The rest remained, either seated as before, or already on their feet to converse with other, unfamiliar persons.
Natasha remained at the table, and was soon joined by the Mexican, again appearing from the shadows as if he had always been there.
"To the newly Acknowledged," the Prince spoke again, in the same formal tone as before. "I advise remaining to familiarize yourself with the locals. You may find you lack Primogen representation, as there have been some adjustments in employment as of late, though I hope one from your Clan can be found to voice your concerns.
Otherwise, I will heed them myself, and will welcome any insight you may offer to the plight of my Domain."
With that, her voice lowered to an inaudible conversation with the man at her side.
The woman in glasses is one of the few that remains seated, for the time being.
He then took a look around at the others. He didn't particularly care to talk to any of the others, especially none of the younger kindred, but he supposed it was best to seem busy, and he had already spent a lot of time with Tristan tonight. Caleb put his hand on Tristan's shoulder, just long enough to get her attention, and he whispered "I'll be back, you should go mingle also."
As he got up, he looked around again. The only half-inviting looking, yet not busy person, seemed to be Joseph. He walked to him, hands in his pockets, trying to seem casual. "Hey...Is it just me, or is this an incredibly uncomfortable place to hold elysium?" He said, with half a smile.
3ds friend code: 2981-6032-4118
"You don't find it a bit charming, eh? It has a certain "rustic" allure to it." A smirk played on his face as he entered the conversation uninvited. "The church has always been the center of a community."
"Though I'm sure," pausing as he gestured towards Joseph, "Our friend here would much rather be rolling around in some dirt."
"And I might be apt to join him. No offense meant to Natasha, I'm sure she has a damn good reason for meeting here, but I just can't it in here. The ignorant masses of kine, trying to hear voices in their heads, hoping that their pathetic lives aren't all there is... Then again, where I'm from, we rarely had to deal with them." Caleb said, realizing he was about to go on a diatribe.
He looked outside. Still pouring, he didn't want to get his suit any more damp than it already was, it would cost a decent amount to get it cleaned as it was. A cigarette sounded really good though...
3ds friend code: 2981-6032-4118
Very interesting.
Her eyes kept turning back, when the Prince paused for the murmurs and things, to look at the old man that had sat near her at first. He had kept staring, and while that had made Tristan uncomfortable, it had also piqued her curiosity.
So when the Prince adjourned the New Business portion of the meeting, and Caleb had moved off to mingle with other Kindred, Tristan turned back to see the good Doctor waiting to speak with the Prince. Well, she would have to speak with him some other time, find out why he had been so interested in looking at her.
Tristan pulled back and looked around the dim church again, her green eyes looking for Zeke. Finding him, Tristan moved over towards him with a gentle smile. She reached into her clutch purse and pulled out her notepad and pen and scrawled a small note on it, holding the note out to Zeke and positioning herself to be able to watch his lips.
"A lovely evening. How have you been?"
She smiled up at him while waiting, hopefully for an answer.
Democrats Abroad! || Vote From Abroad
He opened his mouth to respond to Caleb, when the other one joined in, and he gave him a level look that turned into a slow once-over at the rolling around in dirt comment, his voice very, very quiet when he responded.
"Yes, well, not all of us can be lucky enough to hide under our sire's skirts and ride on their coattails, some of us earn our keep."
He then turned back to Caleb to answer his question.
"I wouldn't say it's just you, but if their God bothers you that much, maybe it's less the church and more your guilty conscience that's the problem." He shrugged, then looked back towards the table the Prince was chatting with Dr Mettin at.
"Of course, that's perfectly fucking normal here, I guess." Joseph looked back at them, frowning.
"Did either of your havens get broken into, too? I woke up and someone'd decided the mailbox I use wasn't good enough, and they needed to break in and leave the invite inside. Sometime during daylight. Happen to either of you?"
Shortly after, the Doctor received her attention in his favor, accompanied by a straightening of her posture.
"Ah, the purveyor of antiquities. Your reputation in the market precedes you, Doctor, though I'm not as familiar with your field of expertise in the professional sense. I trust business is going well."
Natasha paused, and the latter comment resulted in an amused expression.
"You could say that. I do my best to keep my domain acceptant of newcomers, with the proper courtesies shown on their part.
From time to time, we've had our difficulties with less polite visitors."
"The church is the center of a community. We're creatures of habiat, somethings just don't change, no matter how your blood looks." Tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Stojka leaned against the pew. Of course the invitation had arrived, neatly placed on his kitchen table. It was unexpected, but not totally unusual. He was living on someone's good graces.
"My keep has been earned and I continue to pay for it nightly, cousin. It happened to the rest of us as well, I'm sure, though I'm curious; I thought your lot liked to dig a hole for their daily slumber?"
He paused, glancing back to where the Prince was now speaking to the cripple.
"The name's Stojka, boys. And I've got a proposition."
Joseph now remembered why he fucking hated Elysium. Then again, it was kinda a necessary evil. Still, a few good shots here and there made people less paranoid than trying to avoid everyone. If you tried to duck Elysium, everyone got ot be utterly certain you must be up to something big, and it got you into all sorts of trouble.
"So come on, Storkie. What's up?"
His gaze is drawn to the woman who has not said a word all night, although not for lack of trying. He looks at her notebook, pondering its use. He was never a fan of a paper trail. He continues his grand round, listening for any voice or topic he might be able to chime in on, equally hopeful and fearful the chance may actually arise, or worse, he will get pulled into a conversation.
He listened to the two's snide shots at eachother, until Stojka mentioned a proposition. "A proposition? Funny, the only propositions I've seen offered to strangers were of the worst kind. Hell, I don't even feed without at least buying the poor girl a drink, if possible."
3ds friend code: 2981-6032-4118
"And you are quite the gentleman for it. Not all of us are willing to indulge our food." The words flowed like honey, and a familiar feeling settled over him. Just like the old days.
"Before I continue, my friend.." He took a quick glance at Joseph. ".. and otherwise, with my proposal, you both do me a disservice. I've introduced myself. Please, indulge me with your names."
"If I could crave the prince's indulgence, I would like to be certain of any ascertations I would make before bringing them before you. I merely have a hunch. This may also be a somewhat public place to be discussing such things. You are familiar with the location of my antiques dealership I am sure, I would be greatly honoured if you would call upon me at any time that you have antiques that need to be... dealt with."
"Caleb. Or, Caleb Michael Lajoie de Rouen, if you'd prefer. Most do not." Caleb said, his french accent starting to show.
3ds friend code: 2981-6032-4118
God, sounds like the fourth Musketeer or something. He looked back to Stojka, filing all that away for later discussion, then shook his head.
"You know my blood well enough, you probably already know my name." He glanced at Caleb again. "For your sake, then. I'm Joseph." Then back to Stojka.
"But then, I know our sort, and I know better than to think you approached two total strangers without knowing anything about us, and want us to do something for you. So you don't need more than that. Get to the point already, would you? I do have other things to do, tonight."