In which the Herald, a Deputy and Jim go on Patrol

[Martha Villiers]

The sliver of moon was bright in the sky. It was a cloudless and chilly evening in South Sacramento.

Martha had asked Jim to meet her and Dillon within the nominal Tenurial Zone of Rosemont-Mather at 20:00 at the corner of Waterman and Sheldon. Tucked between the wastelands Elk Grove a steady stream of commuter traffic made use of the freeway. Martha stood at the junction and adjusted her hat.



There was no wind and the reek of exhaust fumes hung in the air to sting at the nose of the predator.

Elk Grove. She looked about and studied the location. The low density properties. Not far along Sheldon the bare frames of girders and joists of half completed housing stood stark against the soft glow of street lighting. Close by stood a scattering of run down stores selling feed and supplies...half a dozen rough looking liquor stores and a dozen pale painted houses.

Martha was dressed in her usual sensible shoes, her new C-Leg peeked from her calf length gymslip. She wore her black blazer and hat. Twin tails were neat and held in place by red ribbon bows. Her satchel hung from a shoulder and seemed to be bulkier than usual. Her simple metal walking cane was clutched to her chest as she and Dillon ( Wolven Pryde ) studied the lay out of the streets and terrain and paid attention for threats.

Several bunches of wilted and long dessicated flowers with sun bleached memoriam cards were fastened to a street lamp. Dedications and memorials to another young life taken on the busy road.

With wide eyes, Martha looked at the speed of the Toyota that rushed along, desperate to overtake the slower Ford at the junction. Blinking as the harsh horns of the cars sounded, Martha clutched at her cane and watched with wide eyes the display of foolish and aggressive driving. Trying a bashful smile, Martha turned to limp back towards Dillon and await their companion for the evening's Patrol.

[James Calloway]

James Calloway smiled as he pulled up to the intersection in Rosemont-Mather, wearing his denim jeans, a leather jacket and a black helmet. Beneath them he wore a black dress shirt, and beneath that, he wore light kevlar. One could never be too careful, and the thin layer of body armor was quite difficult to notice, covering only his chest, back and stomach. But it would help, if ever gunfire was required. Nobody was inspecting him closely, anyway, especially seeing as he kept his jacket on, his punch dagger hidden inside.

The beautiful silver Honda Shadow pulled up to the curb, parking at the meeting spot where the Herald and his Priscus awaited him. Taking his dark helmet off and strapping it to the saddlebags, he shook his tousled hair loose and made his way over to Martha Villiers. A smile came over his face, and he said, "Good evening, Miss Villiers, Mr. Connery, it's a pleasure to see you, and a beautiful night for a walkabout, no? I appreciate the change of scenery -- it's always nice to explore a new part of the city." He gave them both a big grin. No doubt they would know he meant 'patrol' and 'route'. Jim normally was in WestSac, and Rosemont-Mather was a new area for him. Needless to say, the Taifa was a bit excited about it. He was also interested in seeing the Herald and Deputy in action.

[Martha Villiers]

Martha leaned on her cane and offered a cheery wave. "Good evening to you too, sir! I see you rode here on your motor bicycle! How splendid! We shall have to find somewhere safe to park it!" she smiled and, after glancing excitedly to Dillon, limped excitedly over to inspect the machine. Adding a small hop and limping skip into her step.

In the distance there's the sound of a police patrol car with it's bubble gum lamps and siren on.

"Ah, sadly that is an all too common-place sound in this part of the city, sir." she adds, with wide eyes...she glances up from her inspection of the Honda to try to track where the police siren is heading to or from.

[Dillon Connery]

If Dillon could pick one place to take Martha Villiers-- the woman he's sworn to guard with his Requiem-- this certainly isn't it. But then, if she just had to come here, he's glad that someone can be there to protect her. And that they had Calloway to use as cannon fodder.

The thought makes the Deputy grin a little too widely, even as Jim pulls up on his bike.

Bracing himself for the usual threatening 'displays' of the Beasts, Dillon's hellhound doesn't disappoint tonight. It never senses anything from Martha, of course, so Jim gets the full, angry, cinder-snorting challenge. The Gangrel Priscus is positive that if he closed his eyes, he would get a clear view of three sets of charred yellow teeth, bared, with curving tusks for fangs. But Dillon holds the leash. The monster heels.

Dressed in his usual unassuming street attire, Dillon greets the Taifa with his usual good cheer. "Good evening, Mister Calloway. Glad you could join us."

But Jim doesn't get the eye-roll tonight. Not even for the way he carefully emphasized the code words like he was playing spy games. After Martha glances to him, and turns away, Dillon looks up, and closes his eyes in a rather long blink. Schooling the urge to discover whether or not he could throw the wretched machine like a discus. Chicks always dig the bikes...

Dillon hadn't bothered with one in decades. He really doesn't see what all the fuss is about.

As the sirens catch his attention too, the Deputy offers a nod. "And where regular scum are up to no good, well... sometimes the real predators lurk as well."

[James Calloway]

Jim's rhinoceros evenly matched Dillon's hellhound in a clashing of Beasts. But as Dillon stood over his demon dog with a leash, so too did Jim with his own. The Beasts clashed, but then it was suppressed. The battle was getting easier every time he saw Dillon Connery as his monster became more and more familiar to his own.

The Taifa smiled and gave his Priscus a respectful nod, then notices Martha looking over his bike. He looked back at Dillon and had the good grace to shrug and look slightly embarassed at the reaction the motor-bicycle was causing from the Herald. It did indeed seem that chicks dug the bike. Jim simply rode it because it was fun, and sometimes because bailing out and sending a motorcycle spinning at a target at high speed could cause incredible facial damage if it was needed. The Kindred body could take quite a beating from road rash, but most things weren't going to enjoy a high-speed collision with a motorcycle spinning along the pavement at them. "Thank you for the invitation, sir," he said simply.

Before she could turn back, though, he perceived the sirens and looked somewhat concerned. "No doubt it will be an interesting night... how would you like to proceed?" he asked Martha, the ranking Court officer present. He was the subordinate here, taking orders carefully and contributing to strategy when it was welcomed by Martha. He didn't wish to step on Dillon's toes either, especially when it seemed like his Priscus was slightly less inclined to murder him than when first they met.

[Chrisie]

Her Beast wasn't immune from Jim's. The disquiet and raging that followed the first meeting was manifest in her tightening grip on her cane...the small frown as she limped more heavily to the Honda...the long pause as she drew on the mental training of the Coils to help govern her Beastial thoughts. A smile now to Jim and Dillon, "Ah, indeed! I have a map and a plan, sir...please allow me a moment to get my map out. Then I shall set out the scheme of patrol for you, gentlemen." a happy smile. She dug into her satchel and nodded to Jim and Dillon, as if hoping to encourage them to talk while she spent a little longer than usual to get herself set up.

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon clasps his hands lightly behind his back, assuming parade rest without consciously realizing it. He watches Martha's rummaging with a fond sort of amusement before looking back up and around at their location, just keeping an eye on things.

As if following some unspoken encouragement by the tiny Herald to bury the hatchet, Dillon lets his scan rest casually on Jim after he's satisfied that the coast is still clear for the moment. "You seem to be settling in alright, Mister Calloway. I am glad to see you staying active around the city." Which is sincere enough. Other than Tracy, Dillon is starting to wonder if the other Gangrel need a fire lit under their tails.

Which, he supposed, isn't exactly fair. José and Francesco are getting involved in things. For whatever that is worth.

[James Calloway]

Jim gave the man a slight smile. "I like it here, Mr. Connery. I'd like to make a future in Sacramento, I think."He nodded as he said it, as if confirming it.

He paused for a moment, looking over at the Herald and back to his Priscus.

Speaking quietly, he said, "For the record, I appreciate you and Miss Villiers giving me a chance to prove myself after... what happened the first time we met. I'm sorry for my rudeness on that day. You've been great about helping me settle in and find work. I definately owe you one." He couldn't speak of Disciplines in the open, but Dillon would surely get his point.

He wanted to apologize again now, well after the fact. When first he had apologized for letting slip an Awe in the Avalon, the apologies would've looked like he was apologizing just to stay alive. Neither Gangrel seemed the type for florid apologies. So Jim simply offered his Priscus a handshake. And then, if Dillon was agreeable, he'd never speak about it again.

[Dillon Connery]

Certainly, Jim rubs Dillon the wrong way sometimes. That's no real secret, and it has only a little to do with the man wielding his blood against his Priscus and the Herald in Elysium. Maybe they're too alike, to an extent. Or maybe they're only just enough alike for Dillon to think Jim will ruin his reputation.

He never had a little brother. Suddenly gaining the equivalent to one when you're a hundred and seventy years old is taxing. Frustrating.

And Dillon could be a lot worse about it. Oh yes. Gangrel Priscus... Deputy to the Reeve... friends with much of the Domain's hierarchy, aside from the Duke and Duchess themselves... Dillon could bully Jim right out of Sacramento if he really wanted to. Maybe catch him outside city limits and put and end to things once and for all, just to be free of any future entanglement.

There's probably only one real reason Dillon hasn't indulged in his mean streak, and she is standing there pawing through her satchel.

Accepting the handshake firmly, but without any juvenile test of strength, Dillon nods. His words are genuine. "The mistakes you make don't matter to me quite as much as how you chose to correct them. And that you stayed around to do so. That took guts."

[James Calloway]

"Thank you for saying so, sir." Beyond that, there wasn't any reason to pollute this moment and make it awkward. Jim and Dillon had had enough odd moments of strangely manly homoeroticism lately, what with their male-male duet of Phantom of the Opera and whatnot, that they didn't need another.

He considered making a quip about hugging it out to Dillon -- no doubt Martha would enjoy that particular show -- but decided just to let it lie. He wasn't one for getting needlessly eviscerated. He simply gave the Gangrel Priscus a final nod of respect and turned back to Martha Villiers for instructions.