quick update: I have to travel for the next few days (3/11-3/15) and I'm unsure of internet access. I'll do my best to check in when I can. Please bot me as needed.
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"I find elevators confining. Let's take the stairs." Little exercise never hurt anyone.
"Well, well, now. Ask and ye shall receive," John jokes as the fire door is pointed out.
John wheels the car around as if approaching the parking lot but drives past, pulling into an alley a few blocks away. "Okay, let's hear your plan to slip in," he says.
"The powers that be will be upon us soon. We need to leave now," John says.
I'm still lurking
Seeing the man go for the dropped gun, John charges the man like an angry linebacker.
Given how tightly he's fitted into the car, John doesn't actually seem to move all that much. "Damn, that's gonna leave a mark," he sighs looking over at the point of impact.
John makes his apologies for his size as he squeezes into the limo. "Sorry, I'll try not to step on any toes." The back of the car sags visibly as he settles his bulk.
John inclines his head in a nod of appreciation. This almost seems too easy.
Directions are helpful. Nice not to have to spend too much time being lost. "Sounds good. Much appreciated," John says with a smile.
"If he's available, a meeting would be excellent," John says. He shrugs his massive shoulders to the man's question. "Laverne and Shirley lived here. That's about what I know. We'd be grateful for any information you could give us."
"We've been sent by Modius, Prince of Gary." John shrugs his shoulders. There's no use in trying to hide that part.
"Of course, of course," John says with a big smile to the older man. "However, we were led to believe that Mr. Venturi works late hours."
"Let's try one of the side doors," John says striding toward one and giving a knock (or ringing a buzzer if there is one).
"Well it appears we get to take a trip to city hall." John sighs. Bureaucracy is such a pain in the ass. "Shall we go this evening, or go for an early start tomorrow eve?"
Though breathing isn't required anymore, John still lets out a long sigh. "Well, it's a bit of a long story, really. The long answer I'm sure involves us being pawns in the machinations of various bigwigs. But the shortest answer is we've been asked to come here by Modius. Seeing as we're new in town and tryin' not to piss too many people off, we figured we'd be up front and introduce ourselves all friendly and proper-like."
Bars continue to be a little disorienting for John. Alcohol was his Achilles heel, as it were, and being in places where mortals were drinking... well, it was like leading a starving man to a buffet table.
"Well don't that just beat all. Hell, we can do that tonight if nobody has any other pressing matters."
"Sounds like that will be in our best interest. Good manners can go a long way towards making this a successful endeavor."
quick note: Humble Bundle is doing a sale on Vampire: The Masquerade book pdfs
Shadow, any idea why this isn't showing up in my active campaign feed?
John shrugs. "Tory's are just as good a place to start as anywhere." He considers Shane for a moment. "We might have to find you a luchador mask, at least while it's warm out."
"Relax, Sense. Does he do this kind of thing often?"
"I am... but don't call me Shirley."
Dear all,
John looks at the sign and back at the driver. "Deposit or withdrawal?"
John looks the ghoul up and down. "Should we call you Sense?" he asks smiling. He hates dealing with the crazies. I'm glad this one has an assistant.
"Oh, yeah, now THIS is inconspicuous." Ah well, who would ever suspect a school bus driven by a jester would be full of vampires, right?
John snickers at the tremere's comment. Ain't that the truth.
John is guessing "no" will be the answer to that question.
John climbs out wondering about the Procrustean idea Lucian had as he unkinks his legs. Jack-ass "Rebel". Yeah, let's get that done before any other complications arise."
Although he doesn't need to breathe anymore, that doesn't mean John likes being shoved in a cramped, though somewhat posh, box. The biggest problem really was the boredom... and the thirst. Sigh He throws the bolt on the lock and opens the lid, just a touch at first, (paranoia is a survival trait) and then fully opening it when he's sure that it isn't daylight out.
John eyes the red velvet. What, no taffeta? he muses sarcastically. Not a fan of this whole "locked in a box thing." But I guess beggars can't be choosers. Man, I should have brought a video game. John sighs. "Stylish. Got anything in an extra large?" Don't know why I bother. My humor is totally unappreciated.
That evening, though he is headed to his equivalent of a "promised land" at this point, John decides he would rather be at full strength. A quick snack before he leaves town should do the trick.
Fortunately, there's a derelict wino who's willing to lend a hand as it were.
John shakes his head slowly. "Something tells me '93's gonna be a rough one." "Can you give us any information about Gracis himself, other than that you want him FUBAR'd? I don't want us to have to ask too many questions from Milwaukee residents." Let's at least TRY not to be too obvious. As the group heads away from the dock, John asks Morag for a moment of her time. "We didn't get to really talk before. I just wanted you to know that I have some reservations about this as well. It's my clan, too, but I'm not seeing too many options. And I have a vested interest in not screwing this up." "I was also wondering if you have had any experience with or had any information on the Milwaukee Ventrue." John rubs his chin thoughtfully. "The reason I ask, well, just cause you might know, but also... Here's my thought; Danov mentioned that the Prince is a Ventrue as well, right? I'm wondering if there's any tension between him and Gracis. It seems reasonable that one or the other might be envious of the other's title or power. If there's any way we can exploit that, we may just live to see '94."
"Hell of a way to start a new year." John stretches and cracks his neck. "Morag, I'd hate to speak for you. You got an opinion?"
It's a common tattoo
John sighs heavily.
John has been "muscle" before, once or twice, but that was mostly just threatening to break some kneecaps and elbows. Course, that was with humans, not vampires. "Hmm, doesn't sound like too bad a deal. May we ask who this fella is? I'd hate to get there and find out he, or she, is the Prince of Milwaukee or something like that."
John clicks his tongue. "Now I wonder what a group like us could do for a guy like you."
John can't help but to laugh. "I sure am glad y'all have a sense of humor." John gives Lucian a small bow. "And yes, in fact. We're interested in a trip to Milwaukee, under the radar, as it were, and heard you're the fella who can arrange it."
John steps up behind the artist, eyeing this skinny fellow and snickering at the Red Cross comment. "Indeed. Perhaps you could buttle off and see if Lucian would be willing to meet with us."
"You look marvelous, Ms. Darrow," says John, smirking a bit. "But we can wait til you slip into something more comfortable." |