Burying the Hatchet (Private)

[Dillon Connery]

Blood Potency ••••

Dillon Connery stands outside one of Avalon's Elysian Conference Rooms, preferring to handle this particular business away from the open Commons area. He and Emma should have plenty of time to square things away before Velma shows up, but nevertheless, he is prompt. Allowing no chance for his cousin to miss him, or time to waste, he is very visible.

As if the pinstripes and jeans don't make him stand apart enough, dancing all over the line between formal and casual, his Beast will be absolutely impossible to overlook. Even for those familiar with it. For it is swollen with anger and power; snorting its hellish fury with renewed vehemence. Three separate, throaty voices growl...

Not at anything in particular. They just growl.

Leaning to the door facing, Dillon crosses his arms and keeps his eyes trained on the surroundings. More out of habit than any real worry for danger.

[Emma French]

Emma put on her thigh high black boots that laced in the back, her red plaid miniskirt and a black tank top. Her hair was up in pigtails. She carefully packed the scrapbook and letters into a hellokitty backpack. The overall look was a naughty school girl look to it.

Once she arrived at the Avalon she went in search of Dillon. He was hard to miss, looking devilishly handsome and powerful. Beast squirmed and whined when faced with his beast. It was bad enough that she had to deliver this update. But he looked and felt fierce. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she thought, but then again it was pretty bad. Emma shoved beast down and walked confidently towards Dillon. "Hello." Emma said simply. If her heart was beating it would have been pounding from all the sensations she felt at once.

[Dillon Connery]

As the Hellish nightmare within him surges excitedly, as though to bluster and push around an old playmate, Dillon can only blink once or twice. Emma's outfit seems so un-Emma to him, but than again, not unpleasant by any stretch.

She had indeed been a naughty girl. But here's hoping what she can share with him will at least help her work her way back into the right.
Because we are at the wrong club for spanking.

"Good evening, Miss French," the wink he delivers here is to assure her that they may switch to using Emma and Dillon once they are within the confines of the Conference Room. "I hope the night finds you well. Let's step in here and get down to it; we're going to have another visitor, later. I want to give us plenty of time to catch up, first."

Dillon slips open the door, and will hold it until Emma enters, closing it behind him when he follows.

A part of him sorely wants to find Martha, if just to watch her reaction to his cousin's legs and boots.

[Emma French]

Another visitor? Emma had a brief moment of surprise which flahed across her face. Then she realized he would probably need to report this to Martha or someone else. Emma was so focused on the task at hand she completely forgot the issues of the job interview. Emma whispers, “Thank you,” as Dillon holds open the door for her. She struggles with beast as she brushes past him into the room. He is so cute, so powerful, so so Dillon. Emma smiles as she pushes beast to a neutral corner.

Emma took off her backpack once she was in the room. She turned and faced Dillon. “Thank you for meeting with me. I wanted to share with you what I found in Francesco’s room.” Emma paused for just a second, “I honestly believe he was in trouble, but he was also not making good choices for himself or the domain.” Emma stopped to see if Dillon was ready to hear more. She wanted to be clear and give him all the information.

[Dillon Connery]

After shutting the door, Dillon gives Emma his full attention. Carefully to her eyes, and not her legs.

As he listens, he walks over to the Conference Room table, pulls out a chair, and gestures to it. He will take the one right beside it after his cousin is hopefully seated.

"Okay Emma," the tone of his voice is slightly weary, needing the information but dreading it at the same time, "let's hear it, then."

The way she ended that last sentence made Dillon pretty sure he wouldn't like what he is about find out.

That's happening a lot, lately.

[Emma French]

Emma sat in a chair and mentally took a deep breath. The first thing she hands him are the letters. "I found these taped to the underside of a boiler in his room." Emma gracefully crosses her booted legs. "I think this shows he was being manipulated by an outside source. I could go into the boring psychological reasons as to why the manipulations would work on him, but suffice to say they appeared to be working." Emma then continued, mostly because she wanted it all out as soon as possible. She pulled out a ragged scruffy looking booklet with papers sticking out in odd directions. She gently sets it on the table. In some ways she is sad to let it go. Being what they were, they couldn't give into sentimental feelings. She hardened herself against them. "His scrapbook." Emma looked directly into Dillon's eyes, it was a bit like looking into a wild animals, but then again, so were hers. "He discusses domain, clan, and general supernatural secrets. Almost like that Dracula book where it is written in diary and letter form." Emma smoothed down her skirt before folding her hands into her lap. She tended to keep her hands hidden since the other day when her claws came out inappropriately. Emma sat very still and quiet waiting for Dillon to respond. Please please please don't let him shoot the messanger, Emma thought. Her next thought was that Dillon had poise and control, he was a fair man and he wouldn't explode at her.

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon is attentive and apparently nonjudgmental at first, taking the letters as Emma passes them to him. He is more interested in hearing her assessment of the situation before looking at any of the clues himself.

More than that, they have plenty of time, and it would be rude of him not to give her the benefit of eye contact. There is a thoughtful nod at the news. Kindred prey on kine, but they also prey on weaker Kindred. It doesn't really surprise Dillon in the least that someone would single out Giovanni as a weak link, and turn him into their lapdog.

Despite his fury with Francesco's consistent stupidity, Dillon feels a protective stab of anger at someone treating one of his cousins like a puppet.

He sneaks a peek at the letters during the pause while Emma retrieves the patchwork diary, slipping one of the quality vellum envelopes out. There is a curious frown at the wax seal before unfolding one of the pages for a preliminary scan.

Dillon goes still.

As still as the corpse he reverts to during daylight hours every morning.

Barely registering Emma's description of the book, he remains staring at the open page before him. When he realizes she has stopped talking, and is waiting for his reaction, then he finally looks up. His hazel eyes are indeed wild looking. They flash practically golden, the pupils having narrowed to a fine point.

It is a moment of concentrated comprehension, Dillon studying his cousin's features and posture absently while he replays her words in his mind. In obvious effort to shake off what he just learned, he takes a hand off of the letter, and picks up the book. Letting it fall open enough to study a few pages, he drops it back to the table with a soft thud.

"That is more in line with what I might have expected. This, though..." Dillon casts the letters back to the table, half atop the scrapbook. The gesture is a mix of something between disbelief and revulsion. He slumps back into his chair, and gives his head a slight shake.

Though Dillon doesn't sigh, for a moment he looks very weary.

[Emma French]

Emma watches emotions register across Dillon's normally controlled beautiful face. She works to maintain calm, feeling his beast reacting to what he has read. It must be worse than she thought. Should she have recognized the woman's name? Emma watches Dillon closely, part of her wanted to reach out and comfort Dillon. The part of her that still longs to be motherly. The warrior part of her wanted to fight the demons that threatened their family. Sometimes it was a bit difficult to separate out those two parts of her. That was when she became dangerous to those threatening her and her people. The only emotion which showed was her eyes darkening with control. "How bad is it? Do you know who wrote the letters?" Emma's voice sounded soft and some how cold at the same time, in a feminine Clint Eastwood kinda way. DIllon looked suddenly tired. "What do we do now?" Emma knew Francesco had done some stupid crap, but he wasn't a bad guy. At least she didn't feel that he was, careless, misguided, weak minded, but not bad. She had seen his gentle sweet side. He was a gentleman and took his beating from her well, perhaps that had made him vulnerable. It was obvious that the letters were much more distressing than the scrapbook. Very interesting.

[Dillon Connery]

The letters had thrown him for a loop. Whatever Dillon had been ready to say to Emma after they handled the Francesco business is flattened under the news.

As an answer to the first two questions, he plucks out the specific letter that he'd read. It is one of the shorter, but more overtly dangerous sounding ones:

Dearest Francesco,

It has become painfully clear to me, the dubious nature of those men who call themselves your family. It is a plight we both share. More now than ever, I doubt the motivations of those who are trusted to uphold the law, and the peace and security of this Realm.

You must not give up hope, good Francesco. I believe that all things are possible, and regardless of the outcry, your efforts are genuine. Your heart, noble.

I will suffer no such injustice. It is time we forge our own path, as it is clear that the leaders among our Clans and Covenants lack conviction. Without that, they can only have their own best interests at heart.

Do be careful. I will be in touch sooner rather than later. Continue to deliver your replies to the usual address.

All my best,
~Julianne

"This Julianne person did give her last name, but you may have missed it because you didn't know to look for it." Dillon flips the top flap of the fancy inner envelop the letter had come in, displaying the wax seal. The seal that was stamped with a simple cross.

"I'm not even sure if that's her true name. She's Sanctified, you see. Icarian. So it sounds like a bit of a pun. Came to Sacramento last year, and I thought, simply moved on."

A marked pause, again as Dillon somehow silently suggests a sigh. "But I've known her for, oh, about eighty years."

[Emma French]

Emma realized the name sounded vaguely familiar. She had seen her before, but where. "I think I saw her here when I first came to town. But I didn't have a chance to talk with her." Emma couldn't remember seeing her more than one time. "I don’t think Francesco ever mentioned knowing her. Obviously a piece of info he didn’t share. “ Emma thought for a moment more. “I do know that he was involved in a mafia style organization before comin here. But perhaps you already knew that. I jus wondered if that had something to do with these letters.”

When Dillon mentioned knowing Julianne in the past, Emma shifted her gaze to Dillon’s. “Small world. Do you think they are both planning on returning to cause problems?” Emma was struggling to grasp the enormity of what these letters meant.