You open the door to find a man dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and a black hoodie. Closer observation reveals the realistic mask - or at least realistic enough from a distance. He carries a Halliburton brief case.
"Hi. How ya doin'?" he asks, entering.
After the door closes, he asks, "Mind if I take this thing off? Makes it a little hard to talk clearly and I have enough problems with that without extra problems."
Maxwell's face contorts into a contemplative frown. Turning his gaze to Evelyn, he asks, "You trust this one? He's not going to give up the game prematurely?"
"No, I do not believe he will. The current system does not allow for him to achieve his personal goals. I believe those goals are close enough to a compulsion for him that he would not risk the chance your plan affords him."
Maxwell contemplates a few moments longer before turning to you and says,
"So be it. The ones who were just here are young and could use the aid of one who has social ties and knows who to talk to and more importantly who not to talk to in these matters. Gather your things, Dr. Baker, you are returning to the Windy City. Make what arrangements you need to, it is not a simple trip given the Lupine activity between here and there. We wouldn't want you to befall the same fate as Lodin."
Joey purses his lips. "A date at the prince's Elysium is always a big deal. Yeah, I got time for that."
Joey puts away his power drill and judges the stray boards to the corner of his room. He seriously doubts that the local ruler would accept 'I had a hole in the wall' as an excuse.
You do your best to look like you are just a guy out walking his dog in the neighborhood while you case the Scientology temple. Not too much out of the ordinary seems to be going on when you see a thin, just on the edge of gaunt, dark-haired woman leaving the building while texting on her phone.
"A wise choice, my Childe." Milena purrs. "Put something more appropriate on. We wouldn't want your 'uncle' to think poorly of you on a first impression."
Once you have changed, you go to the car with Milena and head toward the lake shore on the North Side. A thirty minute drive (it seems like it's a thirty minute drive to get anywhere in Chicago) later, you arrive in front of a luxury condo tower. Going inside a man behind a desk nods in your direction and says something into a radio. You bypass the first set of elevators in favor of another in a more secluded portion of the main floor.
Entering the elevator there is a hulking man who looks like he could be working for the Secret Service waiting for you. "He's ready for you." is all the hulking man says as he presses the button for the penthouse.
Arriving on the top floor the elevator opens into a lavish foyer. Another large individual guides you to another room where you see an athletic man appearing in his early 20s with a constant look of cool composure. His dark brown skin retains its original color of a man that has spent years outside. He wears a pressed white suit with a light blue shirt, tie, and brown dress boots.
Milena drops to a knee in front of the man and encourages you to do the same.
"Prince Jackson, I beg your forgiveness for not bringing him to the Elysium two nights ago, that error was mine and not that of my Childe. I present to you my Childe, Joeseph Hart, Childe of Milena Aronyan, who is Childe of Alan Sovereign, who is Childe of Horatio Ballard, who is Childe of Lodin, who is Childe of Datura, who is Childe of Lysander, who is Childe of Artemis Orthia, who is Childe of Veddartha, who is Childe of Enoch, who is Childe of Caine."
Jackson silently regards you, waiting for you to speak.
"Do not mistake me as being of the typical disposition of my clan. I do not get compulsions. I am entirely in control of my own faculties. The only ones being illogical here are you, holding this conversation in front of me as though you believe me unable to process what is being said." He wants to scream at them, ensure they know that he IS IN CONTROL. But he stands above his clan because he can refrain from such irrationality.
Adjusting his glasses, he takes an unnecessary breath to calm himself,and addresses the former prince. "Maxwell, if I truly wished you harm I would have snuck out and reported this meeting to Prince Jackson. By speaking with you first I provide you ample opportunity to modify my memory or eliminate me. I request that you realize me introducing myself to you is a sign of good faith and my support for your endeavor." His next words do mollify Dr. Baker's irritation, and the man becomes more jovial,rationality winning out once again.
"Glad that we are on the same page. I will of course by happy to aid our young friends, and work to curry support for your cause in Chicago-- subtly, of course." Returning to Chicago might prove an irritation; this was one reason he hated to travel given his present condition. But he'll figure it out.
Savanna was surprised by the politeness of the envoy, but managed not to show it too much, while her brain studies the newcomer
Simple and clever plan to conceal his appearance. A practical mind, adaptable.
She invites him to sit around a table, so they can work together confortably
Joey dresses the best he has on offer, with dark tan business slacks and a light gray button-up shirt with a pair of rarely-worn dress shoes. "Well, I hope he's not the sort to get mad if I'm, uhm." His own joke is cut off with a little nervous shudder. "You know. Fashionably late."
Joey is quiet through most of the ride. A few questions bounce around in his head, but he chases the thoughts away for fear of asking something stupid. He's done job interviews before, and more than his fair share of talks with potential tenants.
"Prince Jackson, I beg your forgiveness for not bringing him to the Elysium two nights ago, that error was mine and not that of my Childe. I present to you my Childe, Joeseph Hart, Childe of Milena Aronyan, who is Childe of Alan Sovereign, who is Childe of Horatio Ballard, who is Childe of Lodin, who is Childe of Datura, who is Childe of Lysander, who is Childe of Artemis Orthia, who is Childe of Veddartha, who is Childe of Enoch, who is Childe of Caine."
Joey follows up on his sire's gesture, dropping to one knee as she introduces him. Wow, the whole ass family line. he thinks to himself. The importance of his inherited blood feels a lot heavier with all the formality behind it.
After the briefest of moments, he picks up on the silent invitation to speak. "Prince Jackson. Thank you for having me. It's my hope to be a productive member of our society. If allowed, I'll use my resources to create a safe haven and source of stability and safety for our city's kindred, and I'll make sure to do right by my blood."
He nods, quietly hoping that's enough. Short and sweet.
He doesn't crowd the woman and indeed, hopes not to draw her attention ...yet.
Seemingly pleased with the arrangement, Maxwell takes his leave of the theater.
After the elder has left, Evelyn turns her attention to you. "So you good? How you getting back to Chi-town?" she asks.
Grimm removes the mask and pulls a pair of circular, wire-frame glasses from an inner pocket of his jacket.
"Thanks, appreciate that." the Nosferatu says. "So let's get down to business."
"Have you heard of SchreckNet? Grimm asks, before continuing assuming that you haven't. "It was a communications tool the Nosferatu had prior to some f@+@er from the SI finding it and causing a whole f@*!-load of trouble for all vampirekind. Problem with SchreckNet is that it wasn't tightly controlled and too many folks had access. My employer wants to build a new version that is more tightly controlled - controlled by him. He has the cash, I have the know-how and know what needs to be purchased. That's where you come in. We need a broker to acquire the equipment through various shell companies. Think that's something you can handle?"
Jackson regards you silently for what seems like an eternity, even for a vampire, before beginning to speak. "A productive member of society you say, alright. How exactly do you see using your resources to create this so-called stability and safety. Seems like an awful big task for someone so...inexperienced."
No mistaking it, the woman leaving the temple is Kindred, a Toreador or Brujah would be your guess, but who really knows these nights. Buttons sniffs at the air and lets out a soft, low growl confirming your suspicions about the woman.
Moments later an Uber shows up and the woman gets in before the car drives away.
"I came to Gary by dominating a kine into driving me here. If it worked that well once, I see no reason to avoid doing so again. Albeit it perhaps I should consider encouraging the kine to be in a bit of a hurry." he chuckles.
Savanna gives the Nosferatu a vibrant smile.
If that works, its a good way to get in the Nosferatu's good graces..
[spoiler=ST]
Joey does his best not to flinch. Inexperienced? After all having to build his skill set from the ground up? He's not some penny-pinching slumlord. If it were anyone outside of this room making that statement, he might have spat back with some passive-aggressive remark before handing them a business card and walking away.
But he knew better than that. The aspiring kindred softens his tone and tries to take on a more 'professionally friendly' demeanor.
"It is. I won't be able to build a grand Elysium overnight. But I have property, a source of blood, and the beginnings of a good reputation. A solid enough foundation, and a stable income that can go right back into my holdings."
Joey offers the slightest of smiles. "I'd like to think of it as less of a task, and more of an investment."
Evelyn allows herself a small chuckle at your comment about urging your next driver to drive faster. "You could do that and take your chances...or Hawk knows the Goblin Roads and might be willing to take you back to Chicago, for a price of course."
Grimm reaches back into his jacket pocket and produces a hand-written list. "Here...this should take care of most of it."
Glancing at the list you see that it is lengthy. Server class computers, uninterrupted power sources, various cables, routers, and all manner of computer, communications, and security equipment that falls outside of your area of expertise. Final item on the list is a building suitable for TEMPEST standards.
"A fair number of tall orders on there." Grimm admits. "But if we want something that the SI ain't gonna find, we need it."
"An investment to be sure." Jackson says. "But question remains, how do you intend to execute on this plan? You have a small building, that makes you more of a slumlord than a real estate mogul...truly a far cry from your Great-Grand Sire, although I suppose you could seek his favor." he says with a derisive smirk directed towards Milena.
Matthew thinks this is all being rather overcautious; he had not seen or heard the wolves coming into Gary. He strongly suspected that one or two sightings of them had been exaggerated into alarmist reports of werewolves attacking every vampire coming to and fro. Still, perhaps it did pay to be cautious. And the Anarchs might be offended if he refused their offer.
"And what precisely would this price entail? He inquires casually.
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You have very specific demands, as I supposed. I'll have to do some researches to find where to find those items, as no place springs to my minds. That will be the difficult part. Difficult but not impossible, just time consuming. Fortunatly, I already have some ideas about how to acquire what you need, and how keep it as discreet as possible so no one will trace it to your employer. When do you want it done? What's the timetable?
"It's a short drive, so nothin' too major. Let's just call it a favor sometime down the line." the Gangrel says, hopping off of the stage and coming over towards you and Evelyn. "We'll go first thing tomorrow night. I want enough time to make sure I can get back to Gary, don't care for the idea of staying in Chicago if I can help it."
There are few items on the list that have you befuddled as to what exactly they are, but given the rest of the list, you assume that anyone that you would acquire the remaining items from would know what they are...just a matter of making sure you don't get screwed on the price. Spending Ballard's money in an inefficient way wouldn't do wonders for your reputation. You'll have to dig deeper to find a facility that meets Grimm's specifications.
"You know the sayin', time is money, right? Well just because we have all the time in the world, doesn't make it any less true if you catch my meaning." the Nosferatu says. "So as always, the sooner the better."
"Life boon? Who the hell said anything about a life boon?" Hawk asks incredulously. "Think you might be a bit paranoid, doc. No, I said just what I meant, a favor for a favor."
Ollie approaches the woman if he has time, "Pardon me, sorry to trouble you. I've been looking for some kin folks around here. Got a moment?"
As Calliope is waiting on her Uber to take her back to her haven, a large, square-jawed man approaches her and says "Pardon me, sorry to trouble you. I've been looking for some kin folks around here. Got a moment?"
Nothing out of the ordinary strikes you about the man, but it is a little odd that his dog is so calm. Animals usually aren't so at ease near your kind.
" A favor for a favor, agreed." He makes a note to be more clear with this one. No appreciation for dry wit among the Anarchs, it seemed. Hardly surprising given how they seemed to need to be outraged about one thing or another. Kids these nights.
Calliope shifts her weight a moment after considering him, her mind elsewhere: her coterie's plans, her art, the strange patterns in the last Instagram art post she had scrolled by... With a mental shake, she refocuses. Her eyes flicker to the dog and she tilts her head slightly to the side, making eye contact with the mongrel and finding it unnerving. She didn't much care for dogs.
A beat later, she turns her attentions back to Ollie. The Toreador's eyes travel leisurely up from his boots all the way up to his face, a predatory glint creeping into her gaze. A bit rough-looking, but no alarm bells were ringing. Not like she had much to worry about from a mortal man, anyway. She hadn't fed since her outing with Jack and was feeling a bit...peckish.
"I have a few moments before my Uber shows up," She replies, brushing her long, dark hair behind her ear. "What do you need?"
"I suppose my beginnings are a bit more humble than I'd prefer." he admits. "Still. The newest of kindred will need a reliable source of blood, or at least somewhere to go in an emergency. That service will provide me with favor. Mortals require housing, and they're easy enough to influence. I'd wager others of our clan have had to make more out of less."
He nods in the direction of his sire. "And I already know where to find essential services with no questions asked. From here, it's merely a task of leveraging my advantages."
That, and actually defending what he has. But a pistol in his dresser and a lock on the front door don't make for a staggering bastion against his thieves and leeches. He'll have to work on that part.
Ollie is a big scruffy looking man, not attractive unless that's your type. Though, arguably, for vampires, it's blood type that matters and he must carry a LOT of blood.
"I have a few moments before my Uber shows up," She replies, brushing her long, dark hair behind her ear. "What do you need?"
Ollie notices the flirtatious shift in her body language, which surprises him, because frankly he's not the kind of guy most women flirt with. Unaware he's been accessed as a possible meal, he carries on and lowers his voice making it harder for others to overhear.
He makes a hand motion, one Buttons knows, having the dog keep ears and nose out for snoops..
"Well, currently I'm ..kind of a security consultant. I was told of some distant kinfolk, never met them mind you, who might need those services or at least some muscle. I realize theyy've got no reason to trust a distant relation they never met, but.. blood's a powerful thing."
"Newest of Kindred?" The Prince asks. "The Traditions maintain that it is incumbent on the Sire to see to their progeny, unless of course you mean those not presented to me, or worse yet, thin-bloods. Surely that's not what you mean." he adds, leaving little doubt in your mind that this is a question you want to answer carefully.
Grimm contemplates your questions for a bit before answering, "As much heat as the SI brought down on Kindred everywhere when SchreckNet was found, this is not likely to be a popular play, at least not until its up and operational, so let's keep the numbers that know about it a minimum."
He chuckles, well more of a phlegmy cough that is trying to be a laugh before saying, "We're already being all clandestine about this whole thing, legality or the lack thereof is just another wrinkle. Let's just say I've got my methods, you have yours and as long as the job gets done and done right, no one is gonna be pissed."
"Not Mr. Hawk, just Hawk or Hawkins if you're wanting to be more formal. Tomorrow night it is. Meet me back here, say eight o'clock and we'll be on our way."
The Toreador shifts her weight as she stands, tilting her head slightly at his odd phrasing. She feels as though he is trying to hint at something to her, but the word 'blood' refocuses her attention back to her original goal: dinner.
"It certainly is," She purrs, slipping her phone into her pocket. Needed free hands to subdue the prey.
Her lips curl into a flirtatious smile as she replies: "So do you, like, need help finding them or...?"
Ollie wonders if she's gotten his hints. Damn it, he's good with animals and okay in a fight. He's not an aspiring actor and isn't sure he's got his message across or not.
He tries to make out a better read on her.
"Well, I thought you might be one of those kin I was talking of. There are so many..." He tries to recall the list of clans he was given, "Maybe you're Tory? An artist I hear. Or 'Tre' who in rare books and rare research." A shrug "If you have a private place to talk, one lick to another, fine by me."
Then a chuckle escapes him, "Oh you didn't know. Sorry, I tried to hint a LOT. Consider me off the menu, and I'll consider the same for you."
You can't tell for sure if she picked up your veiled comments, but you know that look. She intends to make a meal of you...
Joey takes a moment to consider, quietly hoping that such hesigation doesn't further test the prince's patience. The sudden thought strikes Joey that his business proposal, however unintentionally, is suggesting that the prince and the local sires cannot maintain their affairs on their own terms.
If his stomach still worked it would be sinking in right about now.
"I have no interest in humoring the childer of kindred who wouldn't do you the basic courtesy of presenting them, and I certainly don't intend on taking on thin-blood tenants."
A spike of doubt runs through his mind. He should have pitched it as a saloon. Maybe a social hangout. Too late for a rebranding. Don't panic. Just roll with it. "If anything, having a place of feeding and relaxation under the watch of a proper, tradition-respecting kindred means it would serve as a rat trap to help filter out such undesirables."
"Who sent you here?" She hisses through bared teeth. Someone had tracked them down. She didn't think they had been so sloppy as to have someone show up at their doorstep. Unless this was someone the Professor had tapped? If so, perhaps her fellow Kindred would understand her caution.
Ollie watches the seductive facade vanish to a cold front Now THIS is more like my High school memories.
"Who sent you here?" She hisses through bared teeth. Someone had tracked them down. She didn't think they had been so sloppy as to have someone show up at their doorstep. Unless this was someone the Professor had tapped? If so, perhaps her fellow Kindred would understand her caution.
"I get why you're cautious. You need to be laying low and I show up on the street. Can we talk someplace private that allows 'support animals'?? I can tell you there is a very very old guy who thinks you could use some help. And that maybe I can be a help."
"Fine. Follow me," She gestures toward the Church of Scientology. "You first. The doors are open."
His eyes narrow when he sees that there is indeed a visitor.
Edwin nods to the man, "Good evening. I am Edwin Wagner, welcome are you seeking guidance?"