Olivette waits at the bar to show the new arrivals and the others to Arnold's office.
This is for adding a Search Category to the thread.
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Konstantin leads Dicky, Lezlie and Rosuto in, looks around and sees Olivette. He approaches and addresses her, nodding just a bit to acknowledge she holds some status despite being a ghoul.
Konstantin lowers his voice to the growl that passes for quiet for him and says "These are new arrivals I was told to bring to the Prince."
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Olivette smiles and returns the nod, "Mr. Malevich, please follow me."
She leads them to the back area and ascends a stairway, self consciously brushing her skirt, knowing where the men on the lower steps eyes probably are. She stops at a door marked PRIVATE and knocks before opening it and stepping inside to hold it for the others. "Mr. Clarke," she dips her head and retreats, closing the door behind her, after everyone enters.
Asa stands inside, impeccably dressed in a black suit with a french blue shirt. He's tall, about 6'6 with his dress shoes, and solidly built. There's an almost palpable charisma to him, and his inscrutable eyes study the new arrivals.
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Konstantin bows upon entering. "Prince Clarke, these are the new arrivals." He gestures for them to enter, and once all have entered, he stands behind the newcomers, between them and the door, calm but watchful.
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Rosuto quirks an eyebrow, wating for Konstantin to introduce them. Seeing that this is not going to happen, she steps forward and gazes up at the towering man before her. She locks gazes with him briefly before dropping her eyes, but that one look was all she needed. This one dressed like Invictus and had the presence of Invictus, but lacked the pompas stance and self-assured arrogance of Invictus. There was also a great deal of intelligence in those eyes. She would need to be careful around this one.
She curties in a smooth fluid motion, like water moving around sharp rocks, and speaks in a soft voice.
"Good evening, Prince Clarke. I am Rosuto Kento, of the Daeva clan, affiliated with the Cathrian Movement. I seek residence in your city, with your permission."
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Heathcliff, outside of the Avalon, takes a minute to try and calm his excitement at finally receiving word from his Regnant, the man whose image has been supernaturally imprinted on his Blood. He smoothes the stray wisps of hair blown about by the wind on the drive over, then checks his ultra-conservative, grey collared shirt and slacks to make sure nothing is out of place. Satisfied, he enters the Elysium.
Looking around, he doesn't see Asa anywhere. Of course, he's the Prince, he's not hanging out at the bar waiting for me. He seems to have drawn the attention of a striking brunette, however, whom, after a moment of mental Rolodexing, he recalls as someone who works for Asa. He walks up to her, smiles, and holds out his hand. Damn the man, he's got excellent taste.
"Hello, young lady. I'm Heathcliff Staley."
After the flop of the other night Delia decides to head back to the Avalon. Lucky tonight she'd meet somebody who could introduce her to the City's Authority. To avoid to spend any time in line outside Delia arrives at the Avalon a bit early than last time and once inside she goes to the same table where she sat last night.
Just after few minutes that she's been sitting and waiting a large group of kindreds arrives at the club. Not strangely enough the group gets escorted to what seemed to be a private room by a woman.
Let's see if she can lead me somewhere.
Delia starts walking towards the brunette but just as there are few meters between the two an other vampire appears and starts talking to the woman. Without hesitating she keeps walking and she reaches the two.
"Excuse me? I'm really sorry to interrupt your conversation but I was wondering if I could ask you a question." She says after having tapped on the shoulder of the vampire.
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(( MS, I am so sorry I missed that you had posted; gah ok we'll fix this. ))
"Good evening, Mr. Staley," Olivette says with a smile. She deftly and gracefully puts a card into his outstretched hand rather than taking it. "This is my contact information for future reference," she explains.
She begins to say something, but then stops as the other woman approaches Heathcliff.
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Another woman tries to get Heathcliff's attention, and he once again wonders at his luck, and whether Arnoud was right- this life did have benefits his previous lacked. Women like this just didn't talk to me before; at least, after Beth and I divorced, they didn't. The Beast within isn't as pleased by the new arrival sharing his space, and snarls menacingly at her from within its cage. Ah, another vampire. Fortunately, the Man is firmly in charge this evening.
He puts away the business card handed to him by...he reads it quickly...Olivette, and turns to acknowledge the woman tapping his shoulder. She's not only pretty, Heathcliff sees, but she looks...friendly. An unusual combination for Heathcliff (outside of Club Ember, that is).
"Oh, hello. Sure, ask," he prompts her, as his eyes make very little effort to hide their odyssey from her eyes to her heels and back again.
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After several evenings of ignorance, it finally clicks in Dicky's mind. These Vampires can hide their beast! The power certainly wasn't in Dicky's blood, Valerie would have mentioned it, hell, gloated about it otherwise.
Carrying himself confidently, regally, he gives every inch of his effort to maintaining a mask of composure. His right hand begins to shake uncontrollably, and he hides it at his side.
Nodding measuredly, a motion indistinguishable from deep respect, Dicky makes sure not to look the Prince directly in the eyes.
After all, that's how Dicky's powers work.
"Your Grace, my name is Richard DeBruyn, childe of the respected Valerie Durnstrolm and of the Ventrue. I am a friend to the Carthians, but not to the exclusion of my peers and elders. I thank you for the hospitality of your Elysium." Dicky can't help but let blue blood slip back into his speech, the formality of the affair draws it out.
God, he must sound like such a tool. Maintaining an impassive face is growing unbearable.
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