James bowed to Sidor as Catherine made her way up next to him, and replied, "I had hoped for just a moment of your time to introduce one of the newer members of the Domain to you. This is Ms. Catherine Keyes. She's been quite inquisitive about our Domain. I thought you would be a far better historian than I, having been here in Sacramento for a great deal longer than I."
"Ms. Keyes, this is Deputy Sidor Grigoriev, Bishop of the Sanctified and Priscus of Clan Nosferatu."
He didn't say Haunts. Not after the asskicking Chris had recieved from Dillon.
"Sidor Rurikovitch Grigoriev," the Deputy replied, entirely used to correcting people about his name. But to Hell with American social customs. His patronymic mattered to him.
Besides, it helped the inevitable butchering of his name if people heard him pronounce it first. He glanced at the Mekhet, the gaze shrouded beneath the shadows.
"Ms. Keyes and I have already briefly encountered each other, although I have not yet had the pleasure of a conversation. However, I am afraid the general history of the Domain is not something I routinely discuss. And certainly not at such an occasion."
After all, there were times and places to seem inquisitive. In front of a man about to be executed, such questions made an individual look markedly suspicious, as if they were seeking an angle. The only saving grace of it was that Staley's plan had been much more complex and subtle, even if it had been utterly insane.
Which meant nothing more than the fact that it was statistically unlikely. It did not mean he would be inclined to have a pleasant chat about past information that could be dredged up and wielded. What a fool a man would have to be to give away intelligence freely, since it was one of the only currencies worth having.
Catherine remained silent, her gaze momentarily drawn to the rest of the room, as if the Deputy’s face (or lack there of) was unsettling her.
At the words spoken, there was a small push of her own will to clarify her own statement, a defense. She looked at James before turning towards the Deputy again.
“My questions were only asked as a means to acquire the names of those in attendance, specifically those that I did not have the benefit of hearing from Deputy Rodrigues’ announcement. I would prefer to not walk into a conversation without at least knowing the name or position of those speaking to me.”
Her gaze settled at where his eyes might have been, if she could have seen them, and finally resting on his chest. It was awkward, but she didn’t know how to handle the man, especially when the serpent was trying to urge her to flee.
“How may I address you, Sir?”
She didn’t want to ask that, but it seemed necessary.
"Ah! My apologies, Deputy," Jim said with a respectful bow of his head at the correction of the naming conventions. One day, he'd have to learn Russian. And a bunch of other languages, for that matter. There was all the time in the world for that, though. To the rest of his words, James nodded his agreement.
His face remained pleasantly neutral through her explanation, and he did not interject when she was finished.
"Deputy Grigoriev is the most generally appropriate. Domain titles almost always take precedence," Sidor replied simply, before considering Catherine's words. Beneath the shadows, the Haunt's lips twitched, just very slightly, as he considered making a facial expression for his own enjoyment.
He chose not to.
"You will find that most individuals are quite willing to introduce themselves correctly, Ms Keyes, if they are all treated respectfully. But I am somewhat surprised you do not know the names of those individuals who's name would be important to you. In general, I believe the Herald uses a most informative flow chart."
Something about the neutral, controlled way the Nosferatu said those words made it appear as though he was putting a great deal of consideration into the existence of flow charts.
"However, Ms Keyes, if there is a particular individual you are seeking, I will be able to find them without effort. As would any other Deputy or otherwise titled officer of this Domain."
Once again, the lack of information found it’s way into her like a knife of ill intent.
“I do know the names, Deputy Grigoriev, as for the descriptions or what such people look like, I am not in possession of that information. And yes, sir, Herald Villiers does have a flow chart, but Bailiff Sage was the one who performed that half of my acknowledgement, and the one other that I have seen. The touch of an Irish accent was slipping into her words.. “There is no particular individual, sir, just the desire to place faces to names.” She paused before dipping her head again. “Forgive me, I misspoke.” Her shoulders slumped, causing the small chains hanging from her bra to take the kinetic movement to their ‘hearts’.
"You would do well, Miss Keyes, to regard the timing of your request," Sidor said, his voice level and quiet. "Perhaps the day of an execution was not the day to show an overinterest in the individuals who make up this Domain?"
The shadows veiling his face made his voice utterly neutral.
"In future, I suggest you simply observe and take the time to introduce yourself to those whom you are curious about. It will save you considerable effort, particularly if you are deferential and formal towards those who hold themselves as officers."
He was slightly surprised that she hadn't managed to match up at least the basics, because there was an obviousness in the way certain individuals were reacted to. The formal deference, or the fear, or the desire... all spoke of reputations, and reputation was everything.
Overinterested...overeager; like she hadn’t heard those words in her years.
But once again, the speaker was right, and she knew it.
Wait, Watch, Listen, Learn -- she tired, but sometimes that memory of herself, that certainly overeager memory of her life kept showing it’s face like a weakness she wished she didn’t have.
Ricardo seemed either ignorant of or unconcerned with Catherine's situation. It was after all rude to listen to other people's conversations. Plus, there was another matter at hand.
Good evening Priscus Girgoriev, Mr. Calloway and Ms. Keys. I hope I am not interrupting." The Mexican Lord inclined his head to each on as appropriate to their station.
Once the formalities were complete, he tuns back to the Deputy without a face. "Could I have just a moment of your time, Priscus Girgoriev?" Given the title he used twice now, the implication was obvious.
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