Reeve's night out, but never off

[James Calloway]

Jim sighed as the young-looking man approaching him beckoned. He saw the Herald and his Priscus and, if he could blanch, he would have. His already pale face did not muster its usual happy face quite so quickly today. It had been, as they say, a long fucking night. Deep inside, he wanted little to do with this crowd of vampires tonight, instead preferring to go sink into the ground for a rest, to try it again in the morning. Certain that the Herald and his Priscus had already told them all of his diplomatic failure, that would be far preferable to facing them.

But the man beckoned to him, and in amongst his Beast's fury and his own upsetness, he knew he had to go. So Jim focused up and was alert. For the Herald to be just hanging out at a bar, her company had to be some power players. He would be a fool if he did not greet them graciously. Indeed, such a political mistake would surely mean his life. A Carthian lawbreaker he might appear to be at this point, but he would be damned if he would be ungracious and die that way. Still, somewhere within him was the urge to turn on his velocidad for a few seconds, sprint out the door to his Shadow and drive for Los Angeles, leaving Sacremento and its Invictus behind.

His face lit up somewhat as he approached Chris and the group. He nodded to the man and the assembled Kindred, offering a gracious handshake to Chris, who was closest to him, and to anybody else who was with the group. "Good evening! I'm James Calloway. How are you tonight?" To each of them in turn he offered his hand. It would be strange if he did not -- the Masquerade required they act as human as possible in human situations like this, but he was certain to be polite. "Miss Villiers, Mr. Connery, good evening. Thank you kindly for the warm introduction to the city." He was being sincere, not sarcastic; for the most part, they had been kind to him. It was he who had screwed it up.

He looked upon Ariana and was most pleased; she was gorgeous, and within him he was a lusty individual. Thankfully, he was fairly debonair and did not come off as skeezy. "And hello to you, madam," he said, doing his best to keep his charm in check. Who knows what could get him killed around here? Still, he couldn't help but be slightly suave; it was who he was. "My name is Jim Calloway. A pleasure to meet you." Keep it classy, Calloway.

[Chris Wooding]

Chris shakes the man's hand firmly. 'Good evening James Calloway. My name is Chris Wooding, and I think this is a very pleasing evening!' He shoots a short glance to Conner and Lance while James shakes some more hands.

'This is Miss Ariana Donovan, and please also meet Sidor Grigoriev.' Chris happy as he is decides to show himself from a good side as well. The new arrival is probably already acknowledged, so they could all be welcoming.

'I hope your evening is finding you well, so far?' It could get better after all.

[James Calloway]

"Please, Ms. Donovan, call me Jim." He gave her a smile, then looked over his shoulder at the scene and chuckled. "They're very skilled, especially Mr. Greyson. The folks down there seem to be enjoying it." It was true. The humans around the scene seemed to be watching intently. "I actually come out to loosen up, although I won't be... performing tonight. I'm new to town, and Mr. Connery suggested a few nightspots to me. Apparently Asylum was one of the more interesting ones."

He turned to Sidor and said, "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gregoriev," as he offered his hand.

To Chris he chuckled and said, "Indeed, it has. It's always nice to meet new people, and moving cities allows for that in abundance. How are you, Mr. Wooding?"

[SrsBsns]

Water again, that means something new. The water has lost some of the bite associated with cold, but it's refreshing none the less. Lance can hear him moving around off to the side and wonders what's next. He really has no idea.

When the wooden device hits him, first once and then twice, he lets out a small grunt, thinking it's a cane, or rod of some kind. Then there's the feather touch of the cloth tip against his face and along his chin and down his chest.

When the third strike hits him, he grunts. He opens his mouth and the wheel falls to the stage as he takes a ragged gasp of air.

[James Calloway]

Jim smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Mr. Grigoriev. Typically I am more deft with my tongue!" This time, he got it right. He watched as the men in the scene continued their work... then the manacles were undone and James sighed. "Too bad, it looks as if I missed most of the show."

[Chris Wooding]

'Oh that is most certainly right Mr. Calloway, and trust me, you'll find a lot more pleasant folks to meet. From the more lordly types to true beauties. Of course, every cities has types like me, of a more shadowy character.' Chris replies in a friendly manner, adding a wink in the end.

'And I'm doing great, thank you, it was indeed quite a fantastic show you missed.' A moment he looks to Lance and Conner, then back to Jim. 'How would you describe yourself, if I may ask?'

With four Prisci present, surely the man had a big chance to meet his own.

[Martha Villiers]

Martha offers Jim a genuinely friendly wave as he approached. Holding to Dillon's hand with less grip than a few moments earlier, she smiled and listened attentively to the talk about the table...she almost missed the fact that Conner had finished working on Lance with the wheeled device.

Wide and innocent eyes studied the men at the cross and then those around the table and then to watch Jim as Chris asked his question.