(1410) Eternal Court XXXII

[Max Heinz]

Max Heinz
Mask of Tranquility

Another night, another round in the eternal struggle between the desire for cloistered research and the necessity of social interaction. Max had seen first hand what happened to those Kindred who shut themselves away from the rest of world; slowly turning inward and gnawing themselves into a hollow, thoughtless animal.

Of course, he'd also seen what happens to those that spend too much time in the company of other Monsters; the ones that let their ambition and avarice for power destroy any remaining shred of humanity and humility. Somewhere, there had to be a balance...

And while others might see these informal Courts as a place to see and be seen, the thin Mekhet had decided he no longer gave a damn about trying to impress anyone. So, the figure that descended the stairs into the lower level of Nox was scraggly, shaggy, and decked out in jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers. For most people, the attire would have presented a barrier to entering the club; but Max had been in the Domain long enough that the mortal thralls that kept watch over the Court knew him well enough to let him pass.

Despite the unfortunate distraction at the end, the last Formal Court had been productive. Max had meet a few of the newer arrivals to the Domain; but there were still many more he had not yet gotten a chance to interact with, as well as several familiar faces left unspoken to. Hopefully tonight would be as successful; but with a little less drama.

Pausing for a moment to let the crush of Beasts both familiar and foreign wash over him, Max closes his eyes and lets the anger pass through him with barely a growl from his own. Comfortably in control of himself once more, he takes up his usual route around the edge of the octagonal center section of Court; patiently watching and waiting for someone to approach or for something of interest to catch his eye.

[Premsyl]

Cameron senses Daniella Sage approach, the Beast within her stirring his. He turns and smiles pleasantly at her as she begins speaking. However, the moment she reveals her title and standing in the Invictus Cameron takes a step back and bows deeply at the waist, his arm tucked in front of him in the fold of his body.

"Most Esteemed Lady Au Pair Sage, I feel I must humbly apologize. For you to demean yourself to approach and introduce yourself to one such as myself... I am humbled and grateful that one of your standing would deign to be so candid with one of mine. I am Mister Cameron Levine, Ventrue, and also of the First Estate. It is a pleasure and a privilege to be in your presence." He ends the bow, rising. "It is as you say, Most Honorable Lady Au Pair, I am new to Sacramento and you do me great honor with your welcome."

He looks back to the scenery adorning the walls "The display is quite lovely, yes. Amazing to consider what beautiful mysteries there are out there in the distant cosmos, particularly when one thinks of all the astonishing mysteries there are just here on Earth. The Embrace taught me that, for all my previous knowledge, I was still as naive as a lost child. Yes, the size and scope of the universe truly tries the limits of one's mind."

Looking back to her he smiles sheepishly and lowers his eyes, "Forgive me, Most Gracious Lady Au Pair, I got off on a bit of a tangent there. I find myself a bit peckish, and it makes me easily distracted. Being new here I have yet to sate myself since my arrival in town. I've been waiting, of course, for tonight and the opportunity to be recognized by the city's Hierarchy."

[Daniella Sage]

Cameron and Daniella continue here

[Chris Wooding]

The presence of some friendly Kindred actually cheers Chris up. He smiles to Juan Cordoba , 'Good evening.' Slowly Kindred start to group together. The new face is greeted by Daniella Sage, probably one of the best things that can happen to him right now.

As Vivian York shows up, she also receives a smile from Chris - though of a very different nature than the one given to Juan.

'I'll see you later Notaku .' He says to the valkyrja as they both go their own way, yet assuming that he would like a ride back to the farm as well.

Then Chris stands there, alone. In the shadow of a big man. Interesting. But not interesting enough when you're in a 'neutral' mood, so he approaches a certain good man, a Spanish artist, someone he really needs to speak with. If only for a short while.

'Mister Garreta de Cordoba, how are you tonight?' He asks, genuinely interested, rather than just greeting him this way.

[Dog]

Dog
Blood Potency •••• | Counterfeiting Life

He didn't come to Court unless he had to, which sure as fuck included lollygagging with the Teacup Brigade in Elysium.

Unfortunately, he had to. Debts were owed. Being seen was a reminder.

A dicey moment with the doorman was settled with a flat, ugly glare that suggested he Would Not Go Quietly Into The Night, which, he still puzzled over. He was wearing His Suit. It was still dark enough that the years-old blood stains looked like a spilled drink. Hell, they didn't even smell anymore. If anyone would know that, it was him. He forced his way through the crowd like a wolf among sheep until he got to the stairs, and shuffled down.

Chest hair as dense as fur spilled over the lapels, unhindered by a shirt.

He wasn't wearing any fucking drawers, either.

[Michael Travis]

Michael sees Peter Baldwin approaching and his dead heart feels as though only now it has run cold. The Haunt, as he could only be, throws Michael off balance. He isn't glowering or brandishing a weapon, but Michael feels an impeding threat so strongly that he instinctively moves his hand towards a weapon he is no longer carrying. Fucking Haunts. Fucking Court. Beyond the minor slip in his otherwise placid demeanor, Michael doesn't let just how put off he is show.

"Good evening to you, as well." The Thorned Wreath? Michael knew only a little about them; his own involvement in The First Estate being limited to simply serving one who happened to be Invictus. "Michael Travis, of the Mekhet." he says, accepting the hand. He holds on just long enough to study the man between two solid arm pumps. "Somewhat new to the area. I'm afraid I don't have any illustrious sounding titles to drop. Nor do I have a reputation for being a self-sacrificing protector." His tone doesn't seem to suggest sarcasm or humor, despite what could have been taken for wit if spoken by someone else. Michael simply deadpans.

"I've heard of you, before tonight. I don't imagine you could say the same of me." he says, holding back the urge to smile. Which would be a good thing. Michael's goal was not to necessarily become visible in Sacramento - he would rather all the key players and faces be visible to him.