<Fiona> comes out into the courtyard, her single eye focusing on a book she’s reading.

<Cian> lounges in one of his favorite trees, right next to the fence that encloses the Asylum grounds. He looks quite pleased with himself for some reason, humming softly as he reads one of the books Antol let him borrow. This one is about the other bloodlines of Caine, their powers, curses, and other information the author had gathered over his centuries. Most of it had an

obvious bias, but there was still some good information, and as luck had it, the book was written in Irish Gaelic, so Cian didn’t have to settle for a translation.

<Fiona> actually reads, surprise.

<Deveraux> wanders on the other side of the wall a bit and stops once he comes to the fence part and can clearly see through to the courtyard. He stands that calmly, resting his hands on top of his black walking stick in front of him and barely moves another muscle except for his eyes behind his glasses.

<Fiona> stops by Cian’s tree and looks up.

<Cian> twitches his nose and looks up from his book. He glances around for a moment before spying a newcomer on the other side of this fence. He looks down to see Fiona at the foot of his tree and jerks his thumb in the direction of the stranger. “You seeing this shit Fi?”

<Fiona> looks in the direction Cian’s jerking his thumb in, scowling up at him after. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

<Deveraux> turns his head slightly to regard Cian and Fiona with slightly more interest.

<Cian> “Yeah yeah yeah, bigger fish to fry right now Fiona.” He puts the book in the inside pocket of his coat and crawls out on the branch as far as it will hold him, putting him slightly over the fence. Hooking a leg around the branch he swings hi body down, hanging from the tree and staring at the stranger. His long tongue flicks out a few times across his fanged maw and

his eyes gleam in the moonlight. In his raspy, hissing voice he finally speaks to the stranger. “You lost, friend? There’s scary shit in these parts, not a good place to wander alone.” Despite the implied threat, his tone seems more playful than malevolent. By the way the new guy stood so perfectly still, Cian had a sneaking feeling he wasn’t human, not to mention his lack of

reaction to his horrid appearance. Still, he couldn’t help but poke and prod.

<Deveraux> seems completely unphased by Cian, “I am not lost, no. Thank you for the warning, but I have yet to see anything scary in my travels around this area. I am Deveraux. Might I have the pleasure of your name?”

<Cian> cocks his eyebrow at Deveraux in curiosity, glancing back to Fiona long enough to shrug. “Cian. Pack calls me Freak Show. Take your pick.” He swings back and forth on the branch, eyeing Deveraux carefully. “If you’re not lost, then why are you here? I don’t recognize you and it doesn’t seem like Fiona does either.” He grins, scarred blue flesh drawing back tightly.

“You come to join up?”

<Fiona> just eyes the newcomer, her single eye seeming to burn into him as Cian speaks.

<Deveraux> removes his tophat briefly to bow in greeting, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cian. I have no interest in joining your pack, or any other pack. I am here simply to observe.”

<Fiona> “Observe what?”

<Deveraux> looks past Cian now toward Fiona and responds flatly, “Everything.” His tone is completely cold and lacking any sort of emotion.

<Cian> turns to Fiona and gives her a ‘What the fuck?’ look before turning his gaze back on Deveraux. “Uh huh, you writing a book or something? Cause, if it’s for…say…reporting back to the Camarilla fuck heads, we simply can’t allow that.”

<Deveraux> “I am not a member of that sect. You certainly have the outlook on them I would refer to as typical for a member of the Sabbat.”

<Cian> shrugs and glances back at Fiona again before replying. “Honestly? Dunno shit about them, but apparently we’re at war, and in war you don’t let the enemy just waltz up and check out your home.” He scratches at one of the scars on his face. “Course, you could be lying but…I don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to walk up to an enemy stronghold alone, so lets

say for now I buy it. Can’t be all that fucking interesting just staring at the grounds from across the fence. So what kinda shit were you hoping to see?”

<Deveraux> “The interesting kind. So far you two are the first Sabbat I have observed. Tell me, do you know who placed the wards on your perimeter?”

<Cian> raises an eyebrow at Deveraux. “You see why that kind of question from a stranger seems suspicious as fuck right?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Beats the shit out of me dude. Probably Zaluut, and he’s the kind of guy you don’t fuck with.”

<Fiona> just eyeballs Deveraux.

<Deveraux> “He and I are in the middle of a chess game at present. Also, this does not surprise me.”

<Deveraux> looks past them back at the buildings, “Are there so many of you that you require all this space?”

<Cian> laughs at that and looks back towards the Asylum. “No shit? I’ll have to ask him about that next time I see him. There’s a fuckton of us, yeah. Lotta roamers come and go too.” He stops and thinks for a moment. “You look kinda like the reading type, am I right?”

<Deveraux> “I have read a great many things, yes. Why do you ask?”

<Fiona> “Because he wants to ask you about his book, obviously.”

<Deveraux> looks at Fiona, but then turns his attention back on Cian.

<Cian> reaches into his coat and pulls out the book, stretching his arm down so that Deveraux can see the cover. “Next time you talk to Zaluut you should ask him about Antol. I’m sure he’d like someone smarter than me to talk to this shit about. There’s only like…seven of us that actually seem to give a damn about reading. Also..” he looks at Fiona and sticks out his

tongue, “Yes I had a question, if you’ve read it.”

<Fiona> just scowls at Cian, refraining from grabbing his tongue in polite company.

<Deveraux> glances at the title as he asks, “What do you wish to know?”

<Cian> points to the author’s name, “Is it just me or is this guy a pompous fucking dick? Like, it’s obvious as hell that he’s a Toreador right? He spends like three chapters sucking their dicks and then spits that load all over the Nosferatu and Gangrel in the next one. So I’m curious, this shit for brains still up and moving? I’d like to have a word.” A low growl rumbles

in his throat. “If you’re going to write something meant to be informative, check your goddamn bias.”

<Deveraux> “I am uncertain of the status of the author, but I would wholeheartedly agree that a book meant to inform should be written without bias of any sort and simply present facts, citing sources as often as possible.”

<Cian> growls again, this one sounding much like the strang hiss of an alligator. “Too bad.” He cocks his head to the side and gives Deveraux a critical eye. “You ever write a book?”

<Deveraux> “Several, yes, but none recently.”

<Fiona> listens to them both before looking back to her own book.

<Cian> returns his book to the pocket and crosses his arms. “Anything interesting? They got me on house arrest around here so I’ve got fuck all else to do.”

<Deveraux> “I suppose that would depend on what you find interesting. What did you do to be confined to the grounds?”

<Deveraux> reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out the pocket watch that was hiding there and clicks it open. It looks very old but well cared for. After glancing at it a moment he clicks it shut and tucks it back into its pocket before looking back at Cian for his response.

<Cian> scoffs and kicks the branch he’s hanging on with his other foot. “Not shit. It’s the other way around, something I haven’t done yet. Though, ” His voice becomes much louder and he gives Fiona a pointed look. “Nobody will tell me the fuck it is exactly!” He shakes his head and sighs in exagerrated exasperation, before smiling and looking back at Deveraux. “Just about

anything is interesting, if I can understand it. Skipped a lot of school when I was a mortal. Didn’t seem important for a street urchin not likely to live to thirty. But…” He shrugs. “Now that I could live forever, I’d rather not spend eternity as an uneducated dipshit.”

<Deveraux> “Your outlook impresses me. Perhaps we will talk more about things you do not yet know and philosophies such as bias as in your book. For now, however, I must take my leave.” He removes his tophat briefly to bow to them, “Good evening to you both.” He heads back behind the wall and a moment later the clicking of his walking stick on the ground just stops.

<Fiona> “Goodnight.

<Cian> hauls himself back up into the tree and looks over at Fiona. “Well that was fucking weird. You think we should got tell Kitt or someone about this?”

<Fiona> “Go ask her then. What do you think?

<Cian> shrugs and climbs downs from the tree, opening his book. “Probably not a bad idea.” Without looking up from the page he’s on, Cian leans against the tree trunk. “I’ll get to it in a bit. You know, ” He turns the page and scratches at his face. “We should fight some time. What’s the word for it? When you fight without trying to completely fuck each other up? Sparring

or some shit?”

<Fiona> “It’s called sparring. You really have shit for brains, don’t you?”

<Cian> “Yeah yeah yeah. So what do you say? You’d get to knock me around a bit, and I’d get to fight something other than fucking Ghouls.” He scoffs, and turns another page.

<Fiona> “Are you sure about this, shit for brains? I’d turn your face to fucking paste with a single blow. Or two, depending.”

<Cian> nods “Yep, that’s probably true. But as long as my head stays the fuck attached I’ll get better. Seems like the best way to get tougher to me. Plus, knowing how much it’d fucking hurt to get hit will be good practice for getting the hell out of the way.”

<Fiona> studies him. “I see.”

<Cian> shrugs and looks up at her. “Far as I can tell you might be the best fighter here. Seems to me that makes you the best one to train with too. Jimmy’s got my Discipline stuff covered. Eliza and Antol are getting me up to date on the Sabbat and Cainite history type shit. But if I had to pick someone to get me better at kicking ass, or survive getting my ass kicked,

you’d be my pick.”

<Fiona> “Meet me out here Wednesday morning.”

<Cian> gives here a sidelong glance. “Morning? As in, bursty into flames time?”

<Fiona> “Morning for us.”

<Cian> laughs “Gotcha. Thanks Fiona.”

<Fiona> just heads off, beginning to read again.

<Cian> wanders back into the compound to find Kitt and let her know about the visitor, reading his book as he goes.