This scene takes place after Red Alert at the Avalon. They are connected. Toons cannot enter this scene until after they have left the other.
This scene takes place after Red Alert at the Avalon. They are connected. Toons cannot enter this scene until after they have left the other.
Taking a page out of Sidor Grigoriev's book Reeve Conner Greyson waits outside the Ridge Motel for his people to arrive. Tonight's... events needed to be sorted out and delt with. With everything that had happened this is yet another issue that needs to be resolved tonight and would be. There would be no playing around this night. Once the information had been collated the Brides, The Envoy, The bombs, all of it, would be dealt with.
The sturdy, four door battle cruiser carrying the Herald Chrisie , Mr. Drake MrBrightside , the Baliff Daniella Sage and Brenn Brenn Lawrence - oh wait, it was a Honda Accord - pulled up to Ridge Motel.
Jennifer shuts off the car and exits; glancing towards Ridge Motel to catch a glimpse of Priscus Grigoriev or - excellent, Regent Greyson.
"Excellent."
She gives him a nod and pockets the keys; heading towards the Regent with a purposeful step.
As Daniella steps out of the car, she takes in the area. Not a place she had ever been to, she studies the motel, making mental notes of doors and windows. Following behind Jennifer, a polite nod is given to Priscus Greyson as she makes her way over. She is anxious to find out what the hell was going on, and more importantly, what they were going to do to regain control.
"It certainly lacks a sense of aesthetics, doesn't it," Brenn commented dryly to Daniella as they exited Jennifer's vehicle. She followed behind the Bailiff, hands stuffed into her pockets. It appeared that she should be prepared for flack to come her way, if Jennifer's attitude was any indication, but for once the poetic Haunt felt unperturbed. Compared to what was to come, tonight would likely only be a footnote.
Following the others who exit the vehicle, Castor makes his way to the Ridge Motel.
Over the course of the car ride, Castor's suspicion of Dillon had fermented and there was a burning rage now. I'll kill that treasonous bastard. Turning traitor on us. He had dealt with betrayal before. Traitors always begged for a second chance when you cut out their hearts.
"Reeve Greyson." Castor is irate by now. His voice however is calm, cold and calculating. "Dillon Connery has become a turncoat. He left with the Brides." His expression is filled with disgust. "How are we to treat him on the battlefield?" The vocabulary wasn't appropriate but it was an old habit. Wording picked up from the war. "Do we show cowards quarter?"
I will gut him.
Sidor moved out of the battered car that he'd 'borrowed' from one of his Herd for the evening. He closed the door behind him and locked it, his shrouded gaze moving over the exterior of the familiar motel. It was useful. Meeting places always were. He pulled his fedora down lower, covering the shadows on his face in case any of the infrequent patrons were glancing around. He suspected not, though. The Ridge featured a clientele that rarely noticed anything.
He moved up towards the gathering group. Hopefully, the group with the Herald was merely enroute, and distracted by their unfamiliarity with the area.
He nodded to Conner, to indicate that the area had been clear when he had left, and waited.
Martha had being quiet and watchful during the hasty journey. Trying to watch out the window for the signs of pursuit.
During the journey, Martha expressed sincere gratitude to Jennifer for the lift, though she was obviously ill at ease in the car. Her mood had become one of steady calm once she was out of the car and making her way over to the Ridge Motel. Following with equal purpose her fellow passengers.
Being at a high state of alert, Martha was watchful for possible snipers and ambush while making her way across open ground from car to Motel.
Taking careful assessment of the presence of fire extinguishers as she entered the Motel and also scouting out who had arrived ahead of them.
She nods respectfully to those already here. Wishing to listen more than talk, she leaned on her cane and paid attention.
Shortly after the Herald and her posse arrive at the hotel, a motorcycle pulls up not too far behind them and parks about a block away from the place. Tracy gets off the bike and looks around, keeping an eye out in case one of the "Brides" or their goons had decided to follow the convoy.
Perception
Once she is convinced that she was not followed, she begins making her way to the hotel that had been designated as the rendezvous point. Tracy walks up to the group of kindred that are already gathered outside the hotel, giving them a brief nod upon her arrival.
Good, the Sheriff is here. Hopefully he can clear some of this up and tell us what our next move should be.
At the same time Alice's car appears at the scene. The usual elegance is still there with every movement, yet downgraded to a minimum. There is more important business, of course.
She arrives at the whole group with a serious expression on her face, her are eyes even showing slight annoyence. There is no reason to speak, the Reeve is here. So all she does is studying everyone with her hands resting on her waists.