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Dillon grins, trying not to chuckle as he tilts his head toward a better spot. One where they can watch the presentations, and where Dillon can still see Tracy with the South Sacramento crowd.
"Asking questions is never a bad thing, though how you ask them can be. That goes for anyone; I'm not singling you out. But if I can help you with something, please let me know. I certainly wouldn't rip your chest out in Court."
Not over a question, anyway...
"i've figured a way for bride grooming." i murmur, following the priscus into a sweet spot. He's looking at the presentations, isn't he? well, i'd be worried too about new blood potential assassins. at least, i'd be if i were involved in politics.
"i kept silent during our last meeting with the rest of the pack, but i did some heavy pondering...correct me, if i'm wrong, but brides are only female poachers, and they do have blood dolls." i add again, slowly remembering the facts certain. "and they do hate the guts out of the elysium society" he remarks with a yet lower voice. "well...what happened during the last gangrel meeting made me think. You go nowhere without informations, but with fake informations, you end up even worst. The fact that among the new gangrel blood there are some female kindred made me realise something more, too...there is a plan that can be done, which, quite actually, can be done only in a close window of time..." he hopes the gangrel priscus catches his words. "if, with the compliance of the prince, a female kindred, relatively new were to be...let's use the word "expelled" in a loose sense, from the court and from the feeding grounds, but prohibited from leaving the city, for having a sort of position "clarified" as a sort of enemy agent, and let's say, said female kindred were to make it known she has vowed revenge on the elysium for her being treated like that...first of all somebody would certainly ask her if she wants to drink, which would lead to the blood dolls market. Secondly, somebody would want her to join with them, because you never have enough kindreds for certain political manoeuvres...and probably they'd vinculize her...to make sure. but it would require three nights. they might chain her and remove her means of contact...but i'm sure there is a way to track a specific kindred, or to use animals to sniff her out based on a specific smell...or cologne...that's a trail. And finally, fake informations. this must be slipped out to her, without making it seem intentional, that at a certain moment, there is a weak spot in the elysium guards routine, or protections...something like that...so, even if she were to fail, or somebody were to fail in tracking her down...there would still be a way to lure them to us. wouldn't there? was i incorrect in my statements? i'm certain some part of this has already crossed come people minds, how they jotted it down however might be different...i'm suggesting the easiest path...a little risky, maybe, but it has it's safety nets." he finishes murmuring. Waiting the priscus answers.
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Heh, Bride grooming...
Dillon nods after a few moments of thought, whether just to absorb Giovanni's lengthy description of his idea, or maybe to consider the idea itself. He watches the newcomers line up to the Prince, trying not to smile at the apparent lack of attention given to Emma's escort. That should be Dillon, but his timing had been off. He had wanted to make sure the one beside him wouldn't bury His Majesty in a landslide of words. A flip of a coin, no, but perhaps the educated risk that Emma could handle herself socially.
"The plan is risky, but has merit. And as I said, reconnaissance of the group is still... in process." He could see Alice being tough enough to 'join' the Brides and hold her own, but one of these new girls? Emma? Tracy? Susan Vera? No offense to them, but Dillon didn't yet know what they were capable of.
Either way, the implication was obvious. They shouldn't discuss investigations in open Court, where anyone of the newcomers might be planted there.
"i understand...there is another question yet. Which could lead to a completely different...stuff...but i'd like to know what kind of groups lie in sacramento...except kindred, obviously...are there perhaps...any hunters around bloodbanks, snooping or similar?" he politely asks with a low voice.
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"You mean other creatures of the night? And those foolish mortals who take it upon themselves to hunt them?" Dillon frowns in thought, but Mister Giovanni had caught his attention. "I haven't yet seen evidence to the matter, but remember the great pains we go to in not leaving evidence to our presence, either. Is this just curiosity, or have you seen noticed something suspicious you wish to report?"
He'd matched the other man's quiet tone easily, pondering the possibility. He had a grim fascination with Lupines that had nearly gotten him ashed in Boston, decades ago. Those Kindred who propagated the rumor that Gangrel and werewolves got along with each other because of their shared primal nature obviously knew nothing about either of them.
"of suspicious, nothing; but my mind works in many ways pondering many possibilities, of the infinite choice which an individual may make, there are some clear, but others are dusked or clouded deep beneath the obvious. It's obvious the brides problem should be faced, ways of solving it however may vary, psycological warfare, burned earth, blitzkrieg, information management, trojan horse method, investigators, or, another one yet: having someone else solve the problem. In the oldest of the customs of the requiem.
The ancient leave the stuff to the elder who leave it to the children who leave it to the new blood. The smartest new blood leaves it to the dumbest new blood, because essentially, nobody likes to risk his own requiem bloodying his fangs. So the next step is leaving it to someone else entirely.
i'm sure there is a way to attract attention, and by making them think the bride problem to be the actual and complete vampire infestation of the city, we could have the problem solved, without dirtying our fangs...i do have some ways to make people think a kindred is not a kindred...let's call it...stage tricks." i murmur. a smile on my lips.
never underestimate Francesco Giovanni. There are ways done with little to no effort which yield a lot of results.
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Dillon cocks an eyebrow at the other, looking at him sidelong. "Are you actually suggesting that we try to give our poacher problem to other monsters? That's a can of worms you do not want to open, Mister Giovanni. Trust me on that. And gunslinging, stake-wielding kine would only serve to draw undue attention to our society by making a huge mess as they get themselves killed."
He shakes his head. "I appreciate the creativity of the approach. But this is something we'd best handle ourselves. Some of us are more than willing to wet our fangs and claws for the protection of this Domain." By the tone of his slightly gruff voice, Dillon was obviously indicating that he was one of those. Though he'd stated in the Clan Meeting that such an approach wasn't for everyone, Dillon himself had been a Hound in other cities, and a general 'problem-solver' long before he had been Priscus of anything.
"i'm more than sure about having capable fangs and claws. I worry about luck. Luck is worse than destiny. It's a bitch of his own. I play with other people lucks, destroying them as the fights in the ring are tricked to make me either win, or lose, and i know that. But the others don't. They gamble away hoping on luck to be on their side, but it isn't luck is elsewhere. At the same time, luck can be an ally or an enemy. To not have to risk things on luck, that is my requiem. It has to be safe, and it has to be boring. That's the long way to living a normal and utterly safe live. I'm digressing however. I had another question, if you would be so kind as to indulge me...where is a good place, or person, to grab some really heavy artillery? i'm speaking grenades, magnums, sniper rifles...that sort of thing" a nice smile on his lips, the hypocrisy of having said one thing, and asked another, clearly shown and not even hidden. What goes on in his mind right about now?
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"Luck, destiny, and fate are frivolous inventions of the irresponsible." The cast of Dillon's normally animated features are becoming cold and hard. His gruff voice is still quite polite, however. "There is only strength of will. The free will of men and the Damned, and the will of God.
"No Requiem is safe or boring, and if it somehow is, you're serving no purpose but to draw out a miserable and pointless existence. And if, for whatever reason, that is your goal, why are you asking about how you might acquire the most attention-grabbing, Masquerade-threatening weapons that are available?"
"because that's where i'd start looking for the brides problem core...you bomb nothing without a bomb...and if you have the money to actually buy a bomb, it means you actually have the money to buy a lot of other, interesting, stuff." always smiling, francesco pursues this thought in words "and i'm not going to discuss philosophy or prersonal beliefs, because it's what every single being think, and not what is actually been proven true. Facts and science. That i believe in. I do not wish however to start a discussion on a matter i certainly have no interest in, everyone is free to believe on what he or she thinks." a small pause. "that said, are there any blood hunts currently in effect? i will aim for tenancy rights, Priscus Connery, and i will either achieve it for boredom or die trying"
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