Bright Lights, Bloody Nights, Big City: Vampire Game Thread

[Josh]

He nodded at Cassie, reaching down to give her a slap on the ass. "Yeah, go do your thing, baby."

She had a habit of fading into the woodwork. Once again, he'd forgotten she was there. And he still had to give her the nightly sip, for that matter.

[Bratty]

Whatever talents she has are raw and untapped, including being able to read the language spoken without a word from the two gentlemen. She goes back in the crowd to show them a good time with renewed zeal. After all, she has incentive and motivation to do so.

[imperfect vision]

"Oh, in all the nights of the world, one can slip out of the great game for a brief blink." Waxing poetic about the Jyhad again.. he almost laughed at himself for doing it. He offered a small bow to Cassie as she was sent away. "Evenin', Miss."

"Now, you know as well as I do that one doesn't go through an apparently open door with good intentions and a box of chocolates."

[Josh]

His eyebrow rose.

Was this guy some kind of faggot redneck? Fucking chocolates? Or wish this some kind of effort to pretend at social grace?

"What sort of chocolates are we talking here?" he asked.

[imperfect vision]

"..." His brow furrowed, and he looked left and right. The kine were more than likely absorbed in the magic of the evening. His gaze returned to Wright, curiously. "...The kind bought from the store? Fresh from Switzerland? Beats the tar out of me. What I'm sayin', is that ya don't set a meet without havin' an angle." He visibly ponders something.

[Josh]

Well no shit. Fucking redneck. Couldn't even follow his own dumbass metaphors, the stupid fuck.

Losing his patience, he waved a hand. "Wanna go talk in my office?"

Maybe some bluntness would get through to this goddamned queer hick.

[imperfect vision]

"Perhaps that would be best." His lips purse and he allows his host to direct him to someplace a little quieter. It was obvious that euphemism in the interest of the Masquerade would be lost on this one.

[Josh]

He waved him into the office, then shut the door and walked over to his desk, plopping down in the chair. He noticeably didn't invite the other sit down.

"So, you wanna talk angles and shit. Have at it." he waved a hand.

[Bratty]

Cassie looks up from the men she is entertaining and sees the two go up to the office. She looks at the main "suitor", a big lug named Al who looked more like a suitor of broken kneecaps then thoroughly modern women. "I'll be right back" She says as she excuses herself and takes up some champagne to the office. Didn't she say she would make herself useful? Time to take dictation and pass out the bubbly.

[imperfect vision]

That lack of invitation was definitely noticed. He moved to stand in front of the desk, hands still clasped in their position.

"I only say that I'm surveying places to cool my heels before I talk to the big cheese. Would you walk into a den of frothin' coyotes without some place to run to?" He quirks his brow, hoping this description is more Wright's flavor.

[Charon]

Marcus came to a stop in front of Wright's place and stepped out after slipping his handgun into his back. Walking up to the door he waved at the doormen, he was known now to have contacts with Wright, and was let in with minimal fuss. Heading upstairs Marcus saw the party was still in full swing. Wright was gone, and there went Cassie to his office. With a few brush offs he followed after the girl.

"Hey! Cassie! How's the party going?"

[Bratty]

She stops on the stairs and turns to face Marcus. She is positively beaming, and it seems to illuminate from within.

"Happening, Marcus. Care for some bubbly? I expect that business will be booming soon."

[Josh]

'Frothing coyotes'? Did people actually talk like that, outside of the radio?

"Gettin' the lay of the land, yeah, I gotcha. Well, let's talk the quid pro quo here... you wanna make sure you got a way out of town, you gotta lay something on the line to secure my interest in the matter."

Although if the fucking Kraut had a mind to take this hick's head off, far be it for Wright to stick his neck out...

Unless it was a fuck of a good offer.

[imperfect vision]

He smirked again, lifted his foot to rest upon the chair, and he leaned his elbow on it. "Look; I ain't interested in leavin'; I'm lookin' for interests. Preferred places of business. Elysium. Where the grandstanding greyhounds run and where the downtrodden lick their wounds. Information is the food of the 20th century - the War should have taught us that."

He leaned forward. "If you're willin' to share, I am sure we can come to some agreement. Financial backing for a glitzy place like this don't fall from the sky, and that liquid courage down there don't make itself."

[Josh]

He refrained from rolling his eyes. This fuck had no idea what was what in Chicago. Hell, he could pile the greenbacks up on his dance floor and burn them for a bonfire, money was so fucking easy to come by in his town.

If... if this fucking hick was as stupid as he talked, he could be useful. So rather than piss in his face, he decided to play along.

"I could do for ya, sure," he allowed. "Give you some dirt on the key players and places..."

He refrained from the comical urge to totally misinform the stranger. If he was a spy, his backers would already have him prepped, and it'd be a waste. If he was some hick off the trains, well, Jason had turned out useful, he could do for another one like that.

[imperfect vision]

"There now..." He offered a slow cat-like smile. "I knew we could get along like gentlemen. After all, the lady downstairs holds you in an awful amount of regard; what, with giving her that chance she's been lookin' for."

[Josh]

He shrugged. So the cow learned her place? Why did that matter for fuck-all? People were made to serve him.

"So let's talk specifics on the dough and the supply, and I'll figure what that'll buy ya in terms of dirt."

[imperfect vision]

"Well, it depends on what you're lookin' for. got plenty of ice, liberated from lovely Memphis, Tennessee. I'm sure you've got a decent fence waiting in the wings for strange occasions as such."

He checked his fingernails briefly, and looked at Wright again. "How 'bout we start with ten G's and build up from there?"

[Josh]

"Twenty," he said without hesitation.

[imperfect vision]

"Acceptable." Holden replied with an even tone.

[Charon]

Marcus shook his head "I can't." With a smile he continued. "So where's the boss? Busy getting revelers drunk as skunks?"

[Bratty]

She laughs softly. "That is my job, I suspect. Speaking of which, I will see you later. Time to being the boys something to wet their whistle." And with that, she turns and enters the office door.

[Charon]

Marcus caught a glimpse into the room, someone was in there with Wright. Fancy suit, probably a Toreador, maybe a Tremere but he doubted that, a Ventrue would never set foot in a place like this or talk one on one with a Brujah. With a nod of his head Marcus headed to a corner away from the party.

[Bratty]

Cassie moved into the office with grace and ease, without a sound, setting down the bottle for the gentlemen and grabbing a pad and paper.

[Josh]

"Twenty is good then," he said. "Don't need to hang around for this, baby," he told Cassie dismissively. "I got it covered."