StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Captain Cyran wrote:I'd suggest, for your safety and for ours, that you," Mark looked at Kergan as he arrived "Either of you, do much to antagonize anyone."

Kergan looked thoughtful, as if remembering something truly horrible for an instant, but hiding it behind a calm demeanor. This feeling echoed very slightly in his voice, though he answered Mark in a moment by meeting his gaze. "Given that I'm simply trying to settle in this city peacefully, I shall hold respect and honor foremost in my bearing."

He smiled calmly at Mark, looking him directly in the eyes. "I'm not an assassin, though I'm not without talents."

Imperial Overlord wrote:"He is indeed," said Tanner. "I believe he is in the Prince's study."

"Great," said Jack, as he moved past Tanner. "Thanks." He strode away from the rest of the group and in the direction of the Prince's study. On the way, he began formulating a plan that would catch Jake's attention without getting him into trouble with one of the court's heavy hitters.

...or, at least, without getting him into too much trouble.

Franco nodded respectfully to the Senechal as the group was greeted. This was not the place and these were not the people for his casual nature. He nodded again to Kergan as the man walked in shortly after them.

With no one else in the room besides their make-shift band and the Senechal, he watched Jack move further into the building and waited to hear the response to Mark's question of who else was about.

"Madame Tierny and Regent Windholm are both present, as well as Mister Silverstone," said Tanner. "Others may show up latter in the night, or so I am told, although Fingers will not be making an appearance. Morley has been sent to act in his stead."

Joscelin grunted upon hearing that the Ventrue Primogen was not present, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest once more, casting a glance in the direction of the Lasombra, "Well, I'm of no use here. I'm going to grab my bike."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, palming it into Mark's hand, "My cell phone number's on this card. Give me a call once you guys know something, and I'll play catch-up."

With that, he turned and made his way out of the building, heading back down the street to get his motorcycle, grumbling beneath his breath, looking around warily.

Jack passed Lucky Jim on the way to the study. His fellow Brujah waved at him and smiled.

( OOC: I'm going to assume you meant Jack when you said Jake. We Brujah need to start getting names that don't begin in J. If you meant Jake, well, I'm guessing I'm probably going to run into Jim on the way there, too. )

"You are looking rather chipper," Jack said as he passed Jim in the hall. "Enjoying your new trophies, I take it? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were making yourself a necklace."

"Keep those babies?" said McDonald. "Why on earth would I could do that when I could sell them?" He cracked a big smile.

"Yeah, I suppose there will always be a demand for our canines, what with those pussy goth bitches who wish they were like us for some unknown reason." Jack shrugged slightly at his own musings. "Though even though you might make less, you have to admit there's a certain mystique about a fang necklace, though with the shit that's going on, it's probably good that you aren't keeping them. Might send the wrong message."

Jack gestured vaguely in the direction where he was headed. "You might save me a trip. I was just on my way to bug Jake for information. Have you heard anything from him?"

McDonald rolled his eyes. "You really need to to learn how to do business. Fucking goths? That's a possible Masquerade violation. Why would I want that heat for just a little money? You got to think big time my friend. Our fearless primogen is putting Wright's feet to the fire, so to speak. Making sure he takes this shit seriously. Which he seems to be. Gotta give Wright one thing: he may be Ventrue, but he'll get his hands dirty and he knows how to kick ass."

Joscelin stopped outside the Art Gallery and climbed onto his bike, starting it up and revving the engine a couple of times, before debating what to do. He figured the others were going to be busy chit-chatting for a while, so he thought he might have time to go back home and grab a few things. If they were going to be getting involved in violence, he'd rather be prepared than not.

With that thought in his mind, he pulled his bike out onto the street and headed back towards home as fast as his wheels could take him.

Mark pocketed the phone number as he listened to Tanner. "Indeed, and where is Morley now, if I may inquire?"

"Probably in the study with the Prince and the others. The meeting is not closed."

"Eh, cut me some slack," said Jack. "My shtick is hired muscle, always has been, ever since I gave up wandering. If someone needs leaning on, they come to me. If someone needs shady business deals, they go to someone who specializes in brain work."

"Fair enough," said McDonald. "Everyone needs their niche, even sister fucking, corpse raping, money laundering whop slimeballs."

Joscelin pulled up his motorcycle outside his modest home, turning off the engine and climbing off, walking up to the front door. He unlocked and opened the front door, stepping inside and heading down into the basement.

Walking over to the far wall, he opens a large cabinet to reveal a selection of rather stuffy-looking black suits, before leaning down to pull away a false bottom, revealing a selection of weapons. He briefly examines his small arsenal before selecting two stakes and a silver-plated dagger of about ten inches long. For a moment he considers grabbing a firearm before deciding against it.

Finally, he grabs a thick, black leather jacket and pulls it on, tucking the weapons away and straightening his clothing, heading back out to his bike. One stake was hidden up his right sleeve, the other stuffed in his back pocked, with the dagger sheathed at his ankle.

Mark nodded to the man and moved on his way to the study, coming across Jack and his Brujah friend conversing in the hallway as McDonald said some rather unbecoming things of his heritage. The Lasombra kept his tongue for now but smiled to them both as he passed by.

"Hey," said McDonald. "How do you Lasombra guys manage to share Italy with those sister fucking Giovanni douches anyway?"

Mark stopped and looked back at McDonald with a smile on his face. "Because the incestual corpse-fuckers know not to bother us or they'll find their precious graveyards burning."

((Finally! I've been waiting for pages for someone to call Franco the douche that he is!))Franco, who had kept in step with Mark rolled his eyes at the slander and bravado. If anyone was able to set their 'precious graveyards' ablaze they would have wiped the Giovanni out hundreds of years ago when the they were being openly hunted.

"Well our sisters aren't sheep, McDonald," he said. "But to each his own taste.

"How did I know you'd run straight here. Manage to string together enough grunts to blame your temper tantrum in the street on the wicked Giovanni?"

"No," said McDonald with a smile. "Just had to make a transaction." He showed fangs. "Turn your undead ass to gold, so to speak. You're lreally fucked, bitch." He threw back his head an laughed.

Seeing only charming small talk occurring, Kergan decided to wrap things up for now, and take care of personal business - namely, a comfortable long-term stay in this city. With this in mind, he approached Jack, Franco, and Mark within eyesight, and making sure to walk loudly enough to be heard, which was politeness considering his normally silent, smooth gait.

"Gentlemen, pardon my interruption, but I've personal business to attend to for now, if things are moving slowly with your investigation. Jack, Franco, and Mark, if I could get your cell phone numbers and give all of you mine? I'd like to be contacted if something interesting develops and you could use my assistance."

"I'm sure," Franco replied to Jim, trying to remember any spells or rituals he might have heard of that used fangs in their conjuring.

To Kergan he handed a business card before taking his number. "Keep in touch."

Joscelin climbed back onto his motorcycle and checked his watch for the time as he started up the engine, revving the motor a few times. The Lasombra hadn't called back yet, so he figured he had some time to kill. He briefly considered looking into the matter solo before realising that he knew none of the details. "Fucking tight-lipped bitch..." He muttered, deciding instead to head for the nearest nightclub where Kindred are known to lurk. He wasn't going to get any information around the Prince's Court, but perhaps the Anarchs or some worthless little neonate had heard something.

As Joscelin found good hunting but no vampires in the nearest nightclub, Kyle was taking more drastic steps. The vampire wrapped a scarf around his face and invoked his rudimentary powers of stealth. The jack from his trunk made a good glass shattering tool.

An alarm blared as he broke down the glass front of the real estate office. There were a number of disks, papers, and forms in the three sub offices inside, but the really good stuff was probably in the minisafe in the largest office.