[Storyteller] There is a loud *beep beep* outside of the motel that Esmond is staying in upon his arrival to the city. After another fifteen seconds or so, it repeats.
[Shotgun] grumbles a bit under her breath and beeps the horn of the jeep again. “I swear if I have to get out of this car…”
Esmond finishes buttoning up his overcoat and gives himself a final look over in the elevator mirror and decides that he looks the part for tonights big meeting. The doors ding and he swiftly exits the cheap lobby and finds his expected ride waiting for me and without muttering a word he gets into the jeep. Buckling himself in and looking over to the blonde “kept you waiting, huh?”
[Shotgun] “I refuse to be late.”, she says and swings the jeep around in the parking lot before taking it out onto the street. “Technically, this is a formality. He can’t not let us in the city… but I have found things go smoother when you don’t get into pissing contests. Besides, Ventrue love their formalities. No offense.”
“None taken” He sighed out, taking in the sounds and smells of this new city. He admitted to himself it’s not half as bad as the gators and people wearing overalls he expected. Digging in his pocket for his cigarettes he fished them out and tapped the packet on his chest lightly and held them out to Lynn “Want one” he offered, looking at her from under a raised brow.
[Shotgun] nods a bit and reaches over, taking one and sticking it in her mouth and then taking the flameless lighter from the dash to light it up with. “Oh, there’s a bag in the lockbox in the back for you. Has some things you might need in the near future, don’t get caught with that shit on you though. Like a flaregun and junk.”
“Smart, I’ll grab that when we’re done with the boss man” Esmond answered cigarette hanging from his mouth before lighting it in the exact same fashion as the Archon beside him. “I do have one question though and it’s a broad one, is he more imperial and rules with an iron boot or is this one a softie?” he mumbled out after a heavy drag.
[Shotgun] pulls into the parking lot and offers Esmond half a shrug as she puts out her cigarette and dusts herself off a bit. She is wearing her usual comfortable cotton top, tight jeans, and cowboy boots and her hair is a rough, wind-blown mess. “Eeehhhh, I’ve avoided this till now, so I haven’t actually met him yet. And I don’t usually listen to gossip as a form of news.”
“Again, smart” he unbuckled and straightened up the crease in his pant leg with his forefingers, he’d swear she was trying to impress him but she didn’t seem the type. “Well I guess we better go kiss boot and wave hello” he stated before swinging out of the jeep onto the street and extinguishing the cigarette under his freshly shined shoes and straightening up a little more.
[Shotgun] makes her way to the doors and passes by the bouncers, going into the club proper. She pauses just inside and looks around the place a little bit, just taking in the music and people before making her way to the second set of bouncers outside the VIP section. They too, allow her and Esmond to pass and enter a much more softly lit room with very few patrons.
Esmonds eyes darted around the room trying to remember as much detail as he could, he wasn’t partial to bars but this place looked busy and busy meant loose lips. Especially when alcohol was involved. When they entered the dim room it was almost like a mute button was pressed, he knew what was about to happen next and he prepared to put on his airs and graces.
[Shotgun] takes a couple of natural breaths and then walks slowly up toward the bar, taking her time. The closer she gets to the man now turning to face the pair, the more a wave of warm feeling seems to eminate from her which collides like two ocean currents against the feeling also coming from him. She waits for a moment, giving him ample time to observe them both.
[Michael Bishop] watches the pair approaching and takes a long drink from a black wineglass before setting it back on the bar. He stands up fully, but doesn’t move otherwise aside from the piercing gaze that moves over the pair.
Undoubtedly he knew exactly who he was facing he could feel it in his now cold dead veins as they approached. Esmond watched the man turn and look them over and waited for Lynn to take the lead before he got to introducing himself.
[Shotgun] speaks up after the moment has passed. “I’m Lynn, this is Esmond. We’re working for Lucinde and we’ll be staying here for a while.”, she says calmly, as if it is something well practiced.
Esmond nods along as she talks, hands tucked behind his back formally and when she finishes he gives a small bow forward when his name is mentioned, making sure not to let his gaze linger too long.
[Michael Bishop] focuses his gaze on Lynn, then drifts down to her left hand and he raises an eyebrow as his gaze goes back to her face again. “I see.”, then his gaze falls on Esmond, giving him a long but not harsh look over. “I of course do not have a problem with this.”
[Shotgun] sighs softly and nods her head. “Well then, thank you.”, she says and takes half a step back without turning her back to him.
‘I sure hope not’ Esmond thought to himself, the prince was overwhelming in person and he was regretting somehow losing his voice but his sire had told him to be curt at court although he was beginning to feel he was overdoing it. Lynn on the otherhand seemed cool and collected, he followed her step backward, preparing to leave.
[Michael Bishop] smiles, almost catlike. “Why don’t you stay for a while? Relax a bit. Isabella really has set up a lovely place for us here.”, he says with a friendly air to his voice.
[Shotgun] manages to suppress her first instinctual expression and smile back, nodding softly. “Maybe for just a little while. Then we have some things to attend to.”
“Definitely” he managed to get out, suddenly finding a spine in him somewhere. “Anything you’d recommend?” he asked, trying to muster up a little more courage as he held his cigarettes in his pocket. Trying not to look at Lynn for support and stand on his own two feet.
[Michael Bishop] picks up his black wineglass and takes another pull from it before sitting back down in his seat. “That depends laregly upon your tastes.”
[Shotgun] does her best to not even look over at that exchange, rather taking her time to walk around the room, looking at the various paintings and sculptures displayed. When she reaches the trick mirror, she stares out, watching the people moving about on the other side.
“Well I have a seemingly biological predisposition toward those that have a darker hue, or in case that’s too subtle. A little larcenous?” Esmonds spine was back and his suave demeanour was cooly returning, he noticed Lynn disappear and he kept track of her movements before watching her stop in front of the mirror curiously.
[Michael Bishop] looks over to the bartender and says something to him in another language. After a moment, the bartender comes back with a black glass and gently sets it in front of Esmond without looking up at him, then goes back to his business more near to the other end of the bar.
[Shotgun] studies the people on the other side of the glass, the only movement offered that of her steady, rhythmic breathing.
Esmond looks away from Lynn and the people behind the glass and looks to the glass in front of him, it smelled right. He was hoping he wasn’t getting tricked into drinking more of someone elses blood and decided to hope for the best as he picked it up and swilled it and taking a sip. “Thanks” he muttered after licking his lips, hoping there was no obvious staining.
[Michael Bishop] just leans back in his chair, his eyes focused toward the long glass wall. He doesn’t blink, or move save for the occasional sip from his glass. Like a sort of living statue.
[Shotgun] seems to decide she has finally had enough and starts to move toward Esmond, gently giving his arm a tap as she tilts her head toward the door.
Esmond nods and downs the drink whole, following Lynn out of the club and onto the street. Thankful that they were finally out of the princes gaze once again and wasted no time in lipping another cigarette and lighting it with a small electric lighter. After a quick exhale he spoke “So I do believe that went well, free drink, no resistance. You got a clubhouse for us yet?”
[Shotgun] gives a look to Esmond like he’s crazy as hell as they make it to the jeep. “It could have been worse I suppose.”, she says as she climbs in. “Yeah. We’ll be meeting up with a couple others that I didn’t want on the radar.” Her hands clench and unclench on the steering wheel as she starts the car up, lighting a cigarette of her own, a clove.
The ventrue went through the motions as he got in the jeep, giving the lockbox a quick look. “And now for a third time I’m going to say smart” he remarked, ashing out the open window. “so now that there’s some distance between us and…. that. You think other than the usual princely shit he’s got something to hide?” he kept his voice low as he asked, making sure they weren’t overheard.
[Shotgun] pulls out of the drive and swings the jeep out of the parking lot, her eyes focused on the road. At a stop light she takes her hands from the wheel and spins the ring on her finger a few times, puts out her cigarette, and then puts her hands back on the wheel, decidely more calm. “Probably not, nor any of my concern. I do as I’m told, but he’s not my boss.”
His eyes catch the ring when she spins it and he takes another long drag, he had hunches and in his experience it was the more open ones that definitely had something to hide. “Thank you for the ride this evening, I’m still getting my stuff in from interstate but until that arrives Taxis for me” Esmond was making idle conversation now to ignore the questions that were beginning to bud about his new partner.
[Shotgun] sighs and pulls up to a duplex at the edge of some suburbs. “Home sweet home. You’ll be staying with Patrick, Cora will be staying with me.”, she says as she hops out and walks past the pair of motercycles in the driveway. “It’s not the greatest, but it’s cleaner than some places I’ve stayed and it’ll serve our purposes nicely.”
Esmond followed and he was starting to feel a little bit like a lost puppy tonight, he looked over the bikes as they passed them and then over his new home. “I must say it’s not as flashy as I’m used to but a cot’s a cot.”
[Shotgun] knocks on the right-hand side door and a girl with a bright purple streak in her hair answers, letting her in. She sticks her head out and smiles at Esmond, “Good luck with your buddy over there… he’s got some sort of british potty mouth. We’ll have work to do soon, so take the chance to chill.”
The kindred gave a mock salute and smiled at the purple haired girl and knocked on the door on the left, habitually straightening himself and his tie as to make a good impression. This city was panning out to be interesting so far and he was definitely going to have to take a walk later and pad out the rest of the night.
[Patrick] “OI!, I told you-“, the door flings open to reveal a skinny twig of a guy in a leather jacket and a generally scruffy appearence. “Oh, you ain’t her. Well, my room is the one by the toilet. You can have the other.”, he says as he just walks away from the open door. He grabs a couple of magazines up off the table and walks into his room, closing the door behind him.
The ventrue in him didn’t like the appearance of his new room mate but his attitude was something he could get used to, nothing better than a room mate who keeps to themselves. He somberly entered the house and made his way to the bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Home sweet home indeed.