"Name's Ollie." He jerks a thumb to his dog, "This is Buttons."
He surveys the area. Entry points, Defensible points, Choke points and so on. Sometimes a place has no point but that's life, or unlife. "And you'll pardon me if I wait for Calliope to confirm to me that you're one of her friends before I get too chatty." He's not rude. He just doesn't want another misunderstanding.
Gary being Gary, hotels are a crap shoot at best nothing fantastic, but there are a couple that are on the upper end of middle of the road. Deciding on a Residence Inn, you settle in for the day, making doubly sure to have the "Do Not Disturb" placard on the outside of your door.
The next night arrives and you find that at least the help can read, assuming that they cared to do anything about the rooms at all anyway.
"So be it. Play by the rules, and you'll be just fine, Joseph." Jackson says coolly. Turning his attention back to your Sire he asks, "He's on his own? You are releasing your Childe to their own successes and failures, correct?"
"Yes, my Prince." Milena responds.
"Then if there is nothing else..." Prince Jackson says standing up and nodding to his ghoul retainers.
Grimm hands you a card with a hand-written phone number on it. "Nothin' else for now. Gimme a yell when you've got the gear or a line on a place."
The Nosferatu picks back up his latex mask and begins to don it again. "Talk to ya later." he says, showing himself to the door.
We are a close knit group Ollie. Tell us about yourself. We, of course, will reciprocate. If we are to be allied, let's make sure that the alliance is sensible and not just one of convenience".
Dr. Baker wakes up in a bit of a foul mood. This is why he hates to travel, did even when he was kine. Home sweet home for him.
He checks out and briefly debates stopping for a meal to top himself off. The Malkavian liked to be full as often as possible, and therefore more in control of himself. His practice allowed him to take small amounts from his clients, and keeping his hunger inc heck helped to prevent any unpleasant accidents. As a doctor he takes his clients safety seriously. And the mess would be a hassle to clean up.
He decides he'd rather not hunt outside his usual circles and that it was better to get back home as soon as he could. Winthrop was waiting for him, after all. He goes to meet Hawkins and prepare to return to Chicago.
"Uh huh." He says dubiously, then looks at Buttons "Opening my mouth first never got me in trouble before , did it, Buttons?"
Buttons gives a canine snort.
He looks at Edwin and says "Tight knit I get, but there are some secrets I just don't blurt out at first meet. But, I am the Stranger here. So... I was a cop once. K9 Unit. I was naive, I was young, I was blind to a lot of the corruption. I tried to do the right thing... and died for it. Which is par for the course. As my mention of who sent me probably tells you, I'm a Gangrel. That right there tells you what you can expect as for what I can offer. I don't like the politics, but I'm not so stupid to think I can always avoid it. I prefer being called Ollie to Ollivor"
Funny, I don't like politics either. I prefer my research. My natural curiosity got the best of me, well all of us I think. And now, here we are.
I appreciate you Ollie, you seem to be a straight shooter. Much like the reputation of your Clan in general. We have one ally who is muscle, having two certainly cannot hurt. I am hoping to avoid that at all cost, but better to be safe than sorry.
This is a dangerous game we are playing, I was hoping to be a footnote at best. However, with you here and now, it sems that we are pulled in much deeper than I had ever wished to go. Calliope is the more adventurous sort, are you not my dear?" Edwin turns to her as he does not wish to speak for one of his companions.
She nods in response to Edwin's question, adding: "I do love a good adventure," She pushes off the table and sits in one of the nearby chairs, visibly relaxing. "Curiosity is what led us to where we are now. In the thick of it all. I don't have much of an opinion about politics, but I admittedly don't know much about it." She spins the chair to face Edwin with a wry grin. "I think we forfeited the chance to be a footnote the moment we went on our little road trip, darling."
The Toreador spins the chair back to Ollie, and then she smiles toothily. Not quite warmly, and definitely calculating, but more certainly more friendly than she's been since realizing she had mistook an obvious Kindred for some food. She does so hate being wrong so loudly.
"So, where do we go from here, then?"
Later, on the way back with his sire, he lets out a nervous chuckle. "Well. That could have went worse. I was going to wait a few days to chat you up about getting a work contract, but I kind of feel a fire under my ass right about now and I'd like to move forward with renovations."
He wills himself to sigh. "That, and I'll have to spend more time here and there chatting people up and figuring out who's interested. Hahaha... I don't suppose you know anyone fresh-off-the-fang and in dire need of a roof, do you?"
Edwin asks Ollie, "How committed to this cause are you? It seems we have been pulled deeper than I would have liked, if you are asked to be muscle, there is every chance that we may engage others of our kind in violence. Such encounters generally end pleasantly".
He notices that the return is a bit shakier than the offering he gave in some ways, but they do give a little, and Calliope's look is more geniune, still guarded, which is just smart on her part. Edwin seems to be pretty smooth, at ease with people.
Which is good, between the two of THEM, he won't be stepping up with the schmoozing, "Well I can be blunt, yeah. I may ask you guys blunt questions now and then , like 'what's your clan?' 'this little dweeb YOUR ghoul?' and 'So does this particular Elder we're about to meet hate your guts?. Tidbits that might help me stay alive, so to speak, a bit longer. Whether you answer or not..." He shrugs "You ask how commited I am to the cause. Here's the irony. I'm not even sure what the 'Cause' you guys have is. I'm flying in blind. Rosa sent me to support you the Old Professor's request. Both have...good reps for me compared to other elders. So you guys have a goal?"
I am a member of Clan Tremere.
Whether Elders or other members of this city have hatred for us, my answer would be, not yet.
Well, perhaps Jack has some, as the Americans call them, "haters". K certainly has his haters for an entirely different reason. I do not believe that Calliope, Alexander or myself have generated through our actions, direct hatred. No doubt Clan prejudices may apply and there are indeed those who despise me for my Clan alone, that I cannot help and, to be frank, I don't care.
As for our goal, we do not have an actual goal. However, I believe that by our actions we have inadvertently hitched ourselves to the wagon of someone who would like to see, shall we say, some changes within the leadership of Chicago".
She crosses one leg over the other, anchors herself with one foot on the ground and wobbles the chair back and forth. "Part of what we're doing at the moment is information gathering, of a sort, to figure out what our goal is. Our youth--as Kindred--makes us easy scapegoats," She says wryly. "But our 'Patron', for lack of a better term, was at least straightforward about it.
"Appreciate the cards on the table, even if a few are face down to us all. Information gathering? Not my strongest point. Used to I wore blue, and had Buttons sniff around, but I don't have the protection of a uniform like that anymore. Still, I'm an extra pair of eyes and that won't hurt. There's always someone who wants change... and I tend to understand that. The system exists to protect the system, and after awhile the people in the system get treated more like cogs than people. Problem being any new system tends to eventually become the new boss same as the old boss." He doesn't bother to hide his cynicism there. "So, we're sorting around to find the least overbearing option we MIGHT help with? That's realistic at least. I see what you mean about possible scapegoats. New Prince wants to flex, he's going to want someone to flex on. I'm not an idea man, unless survival is an idea, but if there's some area you guys want me to nose around I'll take suggestions. And... I need a temporary haven, you got no reason to trust me beyond you knowing who sent me, but if that's enough, where should I hang my bag?"
Dr. Baker, foul mood and all, arrives outside the Palace Theater and sees a blue and black 1969 Camero out front.
An arm shoots out the driver's side window and waves you over.
You spend the overwhelming majority of your evening digging into the various requests Grimm has made of you.
Milena shrugs. "There were a number of young Kindred at the Elysium a few nights ago, although most of them have not been released by their Sires yet."
Thinking a bit more she adds, "There was one...a Thin-Blood of all things...technically on his own, but tied to a Tremere named Edwin Wagner. If I remember right the Thin-Blood simply went by K, or at least that's all I heard."
Is there some area in which we could conceivably investigate, I suppose, but I don't wish to stick my neck out much farther than I already have without some assurances that there are multiples of our Kindred that would join "the cause" so to speak.
As for lodgings, certainly, you can stay here. We welcome all who wish to join. Just, keep away from the membership when it comes to your dietary needs if you take my meaning".
After a few hours, Savannah was ready to abandon her research, when something snaps in her mind. She closes her eyes, and trust whoever is in command in her brain. Her fingers speed up on the keyboard, and when she opens her eyes again, something new appear on the computer's screen: a valid lead.
But as she was closing on the information sorely needed, her stroke of unexpected genius fades away, and her fingers slips, and somehow she is lost on the net again.
Frustrated, she lets out a feral growl, rises from her seat, and gets out to takes some fresh air and maybe hunt to satiate her thirst.
As you approach the car, you see Hawk in the driver's seat.
"Ready whenever you are." the Gangrel says gruffly.
Thoroughly vexed by her lack of progress in finding a suitable location, Savanna steps out, still fuming.
Was it in her head, or beside her, she really couldn't tell anymore she hears the thick Russian accent. "You didn't honestly think it was going to be that easy, did you?"
"Find some food. It will settle your nerves and then you can try again." the voice of Dr. Aleksenova says.
"I can rest here, but go out to eat. Got it." He agrees.
Of course, in her madness, she oversees that this kind of people very rarely roams the streets at night, and are more confortable in their own homes, playing whatever games fancy them.
So she buries herself on the busy streets near the bars and dancing places, where the crowd hide her, and starts to sing softly , barely a breath, while letting Chaos decide who her next victim will be
AMSTRAD-Gram pic et pic et colere noire, boure et boure ratatam, AMSTRAD GRAM.
She will send follow this person until she finds some place to sustain herself
" Good evening young Hawkins." Matthew greets his ride cordially as he gets in the vehicle. "If you've any questions concerning myself or my work I would be happy to answer them. I know that pleasant conversation helps to pass the time."
"Looking forward to getting to know you a little better, Ollie." She says, before gliding out of the room again and re-ordering an Uber to get her home. Hopefully, not the same guy she cancelled on...
Hawk's eyebrows raise when you refer to him as "young Hawkins". "That's how it's gonna be. Alright. What exactly is your work, Old Dr. Baker?"
Following the question, the Camero roared to life, with all the noise and fury associated with a late 60's American muscle car. Moments later, you were on the road, heading for the Windy City.
Edwin nods and gives a curt smile, "Excellent, I shall return to my studies then. Tomorrow evening I have a prior engagement. The night after is when we return to the Elder to discover... the temperature of other Elders.
If there is nothing else, there are a few empty rooms I can show you to for now Ollie. We've never had a resident canine present, but I presume your abilities to manage him are far beyond those of a basic Mortal trainer and I can assume he will be an excellent guest, Buttons correct?"
Edwin will show Ollie to a room that should fit his needs, a bit Spartan as this IS a cult after all, we don't want the membership getting TOO comfortable!
""You clearly never learned to respect your elders." Matthew grumbles, though there's no heat in it. He was content the man was willing to address him as doctor.
"I'm a psychologist. I have my own practice where I treat kine primarily. The evolutionary quirks of my clan provide me with useful tools to help treat their ailments and encourage breakthroughs. It also provides an easy source of vitae consumption." He smiles.
"I should note I'd always be happy to take you in for a session if you ever desired such. You likely feel some degree of hesitation at this prospect; our kind is rather untrusting, for both logical as well as reasons based on paranoia. But our particular existence necessitates some sort of an outlet, lest the stress threatens to overwhelm us." he advises.
He shrugs. "Talking to Edwin seems like a play, but from what I'm hearing I'm guessing it might be a sensitive subject. Might talk to them later. And I'll keep an eye out for K, too. It isn't like I'm forbidden from at least talking to them, right?"
He pauses on the thought. "...right? Some kindred seem to despite the things, but I still don't know the whole deal about thin bloods."
"Thanks for being reasonable, both of you. I know how few surprises in our world are good ones." He bids them both a good rest, and heads to a room.
Buttons response is a look to Ollie, Ollie nods at Buttons, and then Buttons wags.
The Gangrel sets up a blanket and stuff for his dog in the room provided "We got a system. Thanks again, Edwin."
Savanna's hunt was a relief for all the stress of her research, giving her a welcome change of mind.
Litterally.
Francis Lefebvre, the french fencer, was guiding her every thought, her every moves, giving her more focus to find and stalk her prey, teaching her to slide gracefully through the shadows to strike from an unexpected angle
Bientot, Mademoiselle...
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Hawk raises his eyebrows at the elders comment. "What part of Anarch didn't you understand?" he asks incredulously.
At the mention of an offer to analyze him, Hawk laughs. "Uncle Sam f+$!ed me up enough. I don't need a Malky diggin' into my gray-matter. Thanks but, no thanks."
Your driver remains silent for a good while, making some odd route choices along the way. "So when we get there, where exactly am I takin' you? Or am I just dropping you off anywhere in the city proper?"
"Speaking with this Edwin would likely be your best option, if you choose to pursue this, although it is late enough, I would wait until tomorrow night to do so." Milena says.
"I have a few contacts I can ask about the whereabouts of this Edwin. I'll find out and let you know tomorrow night."
"Why do so many despise the Thin-Bloods? Prophecy. The Thin-Blooded are a sign of the end times, my Childe...if you believe in such things."
The distraction of the hunt proved both fruitful and simple. It would seem the gods favored Savanna tonight, with a number of her preferred prey uncharacteristically out and about this evening.
Savanna, being of better than average looks, finds it very easy to talk one of these poor unfortunates into a moonlight stroll through the streets of Chicago. By time you suggest going into the ally for someplace "a little more private", your prey is all too willing.
" Of course. Therapy is always up to the individual. I suppose my reassurances that I remain unafflicted from the ailments that plague much of my clan do little to put you at ease. But should you ever change your mind I will always keep my door open for you."
Dr. Baker pays little attention to the route, instead focused on his driver. It appears as though the subject-- Hawkins-- was in the military. His statement indicates a disillusionment with the experience. His association with the Anarchs provides him with the brotherhood he so desperately craved. The doctor analyzed everyone he met; many of them made it so easy, and it was child's play to draw certain conclusions.
So absorbed is he that it takes him a moment to respond. "Forgive me. Anywhere downtown works, though if you could drop me off at my home I would appreciate it." He gives the address and directions to it. Its a modest bungalow style residence set on a quiet street fifteen or so minutes from downtown. It also doubles as his practice from where he sees his clients. "I'd offer to let you spend the day there, but I suspect you'll wish to return to Gary in short order."
"But I'll worry about all that later. For now, I've got a project to work on and I'm sure you have your own business. I appreciate you trusting me enough to present me as fully independent. We should celebrate sometime. Sometime later, of course."
"Your home? Not a problem." Hawk says continuing his meandering drive.
Eventually the car pulls up in front of your home. "Here we are. I don't know what made you come to Gary from here, but you gonna be okay if I leave you here?" the gruff man asks, with at least until now, uncharacteristic concern.
Milena grins. "Regardless of how it sounds, it wouldn't be wise to completely discount it, Joey. Before I made you, would you have believed that our kind exists? Is it such a stretch to think that there are things beyond even our understanding?"
The car pulls up to your building and she says, "Nevermind about all that. I will be in touch tomorrow night with what I can find out about Edwin. I have a few contacts among the Nosferatu, and if there is anything to be known about him, surely they know."