<Cora> concentrates on making her rounds to ensure that certain items are left undisturbed and ready in case the shit really hits the fan in the future. She double checks marks in stone and brick as well, freshening them up as needed so they can be located when the time comes.
<Deveraux> steps over as Cora is freshening up one of the marks and idly comments, “Good evening. That is a rather interesting scrawling you are doing there. What does it mean?”
<Cora> whips around and looks the man over, the one hand behind her back now. “Huh? Oh, uhm, I don’t know. Just kinda found it here and thought it looked weird. Like a little crop circle or something.”
<Deveraux> “I see.” He looks at her studiously a moment before blinking and forcing, what is for him, a signature emotionless smile. He then pronounces what she wrote with the inflection of a question.
<Cora> gets a very trancelike look over her face before it turns over to something a lot more nervous. She glances briefly toward the end of the alley, and pushes her Celerity, just in case. “I uhm, you… Who are you? What do you want?”, she almost speaks too fast.
<Deveraux> “I did not meant to frighten you with my words. For that I apologize. I merely wanted to see if you were telling me the truth, which you clearly were not. All I seek is understanding and interesting conversation. My name is Deveraux.” He removes his tophat slowly so as not to startle her further and bows in greeting before replacing it. “I am new in town. Might I have the pleasure of your name?”
<Cora> watches him, and swallows a little before speaking up. “Cora. Uhm, sorry? Its just… Well no one really is supposed to be able to speak that anymore… Like seriously. I have only ever heard it aloud twice.”
<Deveraux> nods, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cora. Who did you hear speaking it, if you would be kind enough to indulge me?”
<Cora> “I don’t think I could pronounce uhm, her name. She spoke mostly in my head cause she didn’t know any languages that were spoken anymore.”, she still talks fast, nervously, caught between debating if she’ll get in trouble for talking… Or what might happen if she doesn’t. “The other I never saw… It was in London just before I met Mithras.”
<Deveraux> nods again, “How long ago was it that you visited Mithas’ court?”
<Cora> thinks a moment before answering. “About 5 years. Uhm… How do you know that language? Not exactly common knowledge…”
<Deveraux> “No, it is not. I came across it in my travels. I am a scholar and historian. Who taught you to write and read it?”
<Cora> debates that a second before deciding that being honest is probably in her best interest. “Uhm, Lynn. My boss. She learned it from some old Brujah. You’d have to ask her for specifics… We use it because noone else does and it really just looks like crop circles. Most don’t even realize it is a language much less what it means.”
<Deveraux> “Obfuscation by means of obscurity is rarely an acceptable method. In this case, however, it is most likely acceptable. How might I get in touch with your boss, Lynn?”
<Cora> “I could call her. She can’t be that busy.”
<Deveraux> “If you are sure she is not otherwise occupied I would very much appreciate this. Thank you.”
<Cora> looks relieved and takes a couple of steps away to dial up Lynn’s number. She whispers into the phone, “No I am not done yet. Some Saint Germain looking dude just showed up speaking crop circles. He wants to talk to you. No I did not. Hell no. Okay. Okay. I will relay that and gtfo.”
<Deveraux> would activate Heightened Senses providing the area isn’t overly noisey as soon as she reached for one of those infernal communications devices.
<Cora> turns back to him and then points toward the Quarter. “Lynn will meet you on Cherry and George. It’s not too far away. She looks like a tall blonde cowgirl. Can’t miss her.”
<Deveraux> “A cowgirl. Ah, yes. The American Wild West. Very well. Thank you for your assistance, Cora. I wish you a good evening in further checking on your… crop circles.” He again removes his hat to bow before walking off toward the mentioned intersection.
<Lynn> wastes no time in getting to the location, just as Cora wastes none in going her own way. She is, as Cora mentioned, dressed in rugged clothes, wearing a cowboy hat. She is watching, not entirely sure what to expect given Cora’s description.
<Deveraux> makes a direct path toward the only cowgirl his keen eyes can see and stops a few feet from her as is respectful. Once she’s looking his way he’ll bow in greeting while briefly removing his tophat, “Good evening. My name is Deveraux. Based on your attire I would guess you to be Lynn?”
<Lynn> nods to Deveraux, lightly tipping her hat. “Yes. It seems Cora forgot to tell me your name in the commotion, but since you recognize me I will guess you are the one she spoke with?”, she says as she looks him over somewhat curiously. Her posture is relaxed, and she smells lightly of clove smoke.
<Deveraux> studies Lynn for a brief moment and then nods, “Yes, she seemed rather agitated after I spoke the words she was writing. I was hoping we might talk about how you came to learn such an old language? Myself, I am a scholar and historian.”
<Lynn> walks over to a bench and takes a seat, nodding as she watches him. “It was taught to me by a historian. I was seeking information about the origins of my kin at the time.”
<Deveraux> “If I might inquire, what kin would that be?” He follows toward the bench, “May I sit? I promise to be gentlemanly and keep a respectable distance from you.”
<Shotgun> smiles and gestures to the bench beside her. “Yes, please. Cora can be… excitable. But she is fiercely loyal and she has faced down things most wouldn’t in the defense of others she cares for.”, she turns the ring on her finger as she thinks for a moment, and then looks back to him. “I am Brujah.”
<Deveraux> moves to sit next to her, but with enough space between them that another could sit easily. He rests his hands on his walking stick in front of him, “Brujah, you say. Might I ask you a personal question? I would understand, of course, if you choose not to answer.”
<Shotgun> raises an eyebrow but nods. “Sure, and then maybe you can tell me a little more about yourself in return.”
<Deveraux> “A fair exchange of knowledge. This is rather refreshing given my recent experiences before arriving in this area, and having already met some Tremere that tried to be sly and get me to admit things without directly asking me. We shall trade questions until one of us chooses not to answer. Agreed?”
<Shotgun> smirks, that sounded about right. Then she nods in agreement. “Alright, sounds fair to me.”
<Deveraux> “Very well. My question is thus; what are the names of your direct lineage as far back as you know to Brujah?”
<Shotgun> coughs. “Oh well, that is a personal question. For me anyway. Most might not know their lineage anymore but I looked into mine… My Sire was a jerk known as Smiling Jack… (and Critter forget the rest bet she did trace it all the way up).”
<Deveraux> “Jack the Prince Slayer. Interesting indeed. Your question?”
<Shotgun> looks thoughtful for a moment and turns the ring over again, “I’ll start with something simple enough. Your Clan?”
<Deveraux> “I am of Brujah’s blood.”
<Shotgun> nods and stretches a bit, breathing and moving normally as if very much still alive. “I see. Your turn.”
<Deveraux> on the other hand is a vision of the past when addressing a lady in public and engaging in polite conversation. Some might accuse him of having borrowed the Ventrue stick by his posture. “What duties do you currently perform?”
<Shotgun> glances over and then looks off toward the gardens. “I serve as an Archon to Lucinde.”
<Deveraux> “That would allow me to deduce you claim membership in the Camarilla.”
<Shotgun> smiles a little bit and looks over at him. “Yeah, pretty sure Lucinde wouldn’t go for that otherwise. So, tell me about your lineage? Guessing since you asked me, you know your own.”
<Deveraux> “I am sired by Belit-Sheri, who was in turn sired by Brujah.” He pauses a moment, “Who is Prince of this region and where can I find him or her?”
<Shotgun> actually pauses for just a moment. That was an awful short list. Well. “Well, the Prince is Michael Bishop, currently … indisposed.”, her voice changes slightly as she speaks of him, clearly not liking him at all. “But William Dupre is currently handling all the formalities for him.”, her voice softens a bit as she speaks of the other, having far more respect for him.
“I can show you where the Elysium is, if you like.” After a moment of pause she looks over at him. “Why did you come here?”
<Deveraux> finally turns to look at her before answering, “I felt there was something worth seeing in this city, in Baton Rouge, and in the forest and swamp nearby. Are the Prince’s true whereabouts known or has he gone missing?””
<Shotgun> turns the wedding ring over a few times before nodding. “Yeah. He’s in his home, which I also know the location of, if that is your destination.”, she almost seems relieved at his response, and watches him curiously.
<Deveraux> “It is not at this moment in time. You seemed relieved when I asked about Bishop. Is this because Dupre means something to you personally?”
<Shotgun> shakes her head at that. “No, it didn’t have to do with them.”, she pauses, a bit hesitant, “Is it true you can manipulate time? I will explain what it was about after you answer.”
<Deveraux> answers with no hesitation, “It is true. Please continue and I will count what you wish to share as my next question.”
<Shotgun> takes that in and nods a little bit to herself, it was confirmation she had failed to find before. “In London there was… an incident. During said incident I came into possession of something. What I believe to be a piece of black wooden stake. It has an effect on those of my blood, and is currently locked up for safe keeping. I had thought someone might come looking
into it eventually.”
<Deveraux> “You are wondering if I am that person, are you not?”
<Shotgun> tilts her head a bit as she looks at him, then smiles. “I was afraid you might have been. For a while I had been looking into it, and its origins. Then I got called back into my work and hadn’t thought about it much since then.”
<Deveraux> “I might be of use in discerning its origins if you would have my assistance. What sort of effect does it have on Brujah? Perhaps we can turn the hourglass and see where it came from and what it has done?”
<Shotgun> frowns slightly but nods. “Well, if the lore is correct I have a feeling what it has done. And this is just a sliver of the thing. Why I thought you might have an interest in it. Going near it makes me uncomfortable, touching it causes the Beast to immediately react with Frenzy.”
<Shotgun> glances down for a moment before looking back again. “I would be interested in exploring it some however. I would like to know for sure.”
<Deveraux> “That is most interesting. It is possible to focus ones mind so intensely that nothing can invade it, including the Beast. That being said, what is it you think this sliver is?”
<Shotgun> frowns again, and sighs. “Well, the lore I have found says that Troile used a black stake on Brujah before destroying him. The only other person that knows of the piece thinks it may be a piece of that very thing. He said it carries her crime with it, why it effects my blood.”
<Deveraux> “If that hypothesis is true than I would further hypothesize that it would not effect me in such a way as I am not descended from Troile.”
<Shotgun> nods softly. “The others in my group did not seem to be effected by it when I brought it back with me, so it is likely that is true. It only effects me because I share her blood. It is not here but back at my home in New York, but I would be interested in you taking a look at it as well.”
<Deveraux> “This certainly qualifies as something interesting to see. Whenever is convenient for you to make a trip to New York, then, I shall make sure I am also ready to travel. For now, however, I must take my leave.” He stands and turns to face her and removes his tophat to bow, “It was a genuine pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lynn. I have thoroughly enjoyed our conversation and I eagerly look forward to our next.”
<Shotgun> stands and tips her hat to him as well. “For me as well, Deveraux. I appreciate you talking to me and would like to do so again.”, she smiles and starts off toward home. “I should probably call Cora and let her know nothing untoward has occured. Good night.”
<Deveraux> nods, “Good evening.” He heads off as well.