Special Delivery

[Dillon Connery]

OOC alert and apology

So I intended to actually do a cool picture of this for @Wod.Infant of Velma, but due to RL craziness, descriptive links will have to do :(

Note that while there is zero nudity or even very much exposed flesh in the links, they are suggestive enough that I wouldn’t exactly call them worksafe.

With Purpose, Dillon Connery strides. He’d meant for this to be over and done with much sooner, but matters were complicated in the most trivial and mundane of ways. Silliness that will provide him no excuse.

Which is fine. Dillon isn’t in the habit of making excuses anyway.

Dressed in a fairly nondescript black attire - blazer, dress shirt, slacks, boots - the Reeve casually carries with him a large, equally black birdcage. He has a wee little songbird to deliver tonight. Though whether she is to fly free or not, he dare not speculate.

Thankfully, Velma Star is thin and waifish. He found a cage that fit nice and snug, and as light as she is, a man his size doesn’t look too terribly out of place lugging her around all casual-like.

And the very nature of Asylum provides the perfect means to conceal her condition from cursory inspection. The songbird herself is also all in black tonight, if considerably more shiny. She seemed to have no complaints about the matter either way.

Of course, there’s a stake in her heart, so she wouldn’t.

Getting it out might be a might tricky, but it had to be cut down to be level with her chest. So the latex could properly cover her.

VIP pass ready in the breast pocket of his jacket, Dillon is prepared to offer only it and the words “Green Room” to any curious fellows by the door. With any luck, his serious demeanor will get him by without having to bother Cozette.

Or even worse, fall back to Asa.

By God, that would be embarrassing and inconvenient.

Just in case he will have to be on hand to provide physical restraint or Vitae, Dillon is doing additional feeding beforehand

  +3 Vitae

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2013-04-01 11:18:14		Dillon Connery rolls 6 to grab some extra noms; Presence + Persuasion + SL | Humanity Cap (10 Again)		7, 9, 3, 8, 6, 8		3 successes

[Asa]

The black catsuit fits right in; in fact, even Cozette seems to be wearing something shiny and black herself. She appears at the mention of the Green Room, and a good thing for Dillon, as it's a room with a lock.

She leads the way for Dillon, coat tails fluttering, until arriving at a room and producing a theatrically over-sized ring of keys.

The Green Room suffered from split personality.

Half of the room was opulent, the concrete floor covered with a thick rug, and oversized couches faced one another across a large, circular ottoman. The other side of the room was dominated by a wooden St. Andrew's cross, below which the concrete was sloped and a grated drain was placed. A long counter ran the length of the room; above it, were various implements of fetish play, as well as several combination dial small lockers for personal effects.

With a nod that's almost a bow, she opens the door for Dillon and steps to the side.

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon remains appropriately silent, but polite, as Cozette leads him toward their destination. Even without stiring the Blood to bolster his strength, the load that is Velma and her cage is hardly cumbersome. The iron ring at the top was never intended to be held by a man's fingers for very long, but that is only a small discomfort.

Laughable, even, in the face of some of the things that regularly go on here.

An eyebrow raises just slightly in amusement at the keys, but is back in place when attention is turned to him once more. The Reeve returns the deep nod, still offering his usual friendly smirk.

Now, some Kindred don't speak to Ghouls that aren't their own unless circumstances dictate it. But Dillon always has. It could be a force of habit. It could be because Dillon is generally a friendly and talkative vampire. Some insist that it is a sign of youth to do so. But Dillon doesn't read too much into it, because he doesn't care one way or another what it 'means'.

"Thank you, Miss."

Entering into the room with a look of appraisal, Dillon places the caged Kindred on the center of the ottoman, and takes a seat. He considers taking Velma out of the cage immediately, but decides against it. The sight of her in the cage cut its own sort of very dramatic picture. Worth sharing, at the very least.

Sitting in the middle of the couch he chose, the Gangrel rests his arms along the back to each side and throws one leg over the other. He gives Cozette no direction, trusting that she needs none, and might have pressing responsibilities to see to.

[Asa]

Cozette nods wordlessly, but doesn't reply. She has performed her duty; there is no need to be thanked, nor does she consider the words an invitation to conversation. After seeing Dillon settling in, she leaves.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, a key grates into the lock, and the door opens again.

Asa is dressed casually, in black slacks and a black dress shirt. It is simple, and inconspicuous in a club where black rules the fashion scene. The slight pallor to his features shows that he has not Blushed; instead, saving the Vitae to strengthen and toughen himself -- and possibly other usage.

He closes the door and moves in, appraising the cage, and there's a small smile.

"Clever."

Next time, he might pick another place, and see how far the Gangrel's ingenuity went.

"Good evening, Reeve," he continued, turning and offering his hand to Dillon Connery ( Wolven Pryde ).

[Dillon Connery]

Time is passed in quiet contemplation.

It isn't time wasted, for there is, at any given moment, an incalculable number of things for Dillon to ponder. Puzzles that need solving, gifts that need consideration, sermons to be written, theory on improving The Blood...

Lately it seems that new Kindred are being Acknowledged every week. And if Dillon is to keep ahead of the curve, he may have to deputize a few of them.

Sooner than he expects, having momentarily lost any sense of time, the door opens again. When Asa appears, Dillon rises. It isn't quite as a soldier jumping to attention as his CO enters the room; it's more casual. Nevertheless, his posture carries a heavy note of respect. He subconsciously refastens the top button of his jacket as he nods his appreciation of the Prince's assessment.

Dillon meets the hand with his own, offering a firm, single shake. "Good evening, Your Majesty. I hope it finds you well thus far.

"And thanks." He casts a glance toward Velma and her metal shell. "I incorrectly anticipated that finding a cage that was an appropriately tight fit would be the greatest hurdle. Alas, I'd never ordered a catsuit before."

Most women that are into that come prepared. But Dillon at least knew to properly powder the latex, and shine up the outer surface after everything was in its proper place. He thinks he did fairly well, all things considered.

[Asa]

"I'm sure it was hard."

Asa gave a quick smile at the double entendre; Velma was a beautiful woman, and he doubted Dillon had relegated the task of undressing and redressing her to one of his deputies.

"My evening is as well as can be expected," he continued, motioning toward the cage to qualify the statement.

He moved over to the couch, settling down onto it and crossing a leg casually.

"Let's take her out. Have you fed her?"

[Dillon Connery]

There is a huff from deep in Dillon's throat; the single note of a reflexive laugh that doesn't get pushed into a real scoff or chuckle. He twitches a smile at the implication, but doesn't trust himself to comment on it without being gauche.

As he moves to unclasp the cage door and begin freeing Velma's body from her prison, the Reeve nods. "Mortal blood only*. Enough to keep her flesh looking ripe and begin knitting her wounds when she wakes."

Because Kindred blood would very likely risk Vinculum. Even more so given the thickness of Dillon's. And Asa had not instructed her to be thus bound, yet.

Feet are un-tucked first. Then hands and arms come out. Her head is dipped and carefully coaxed through, shortly followed by her shoulders. Dillon lifts from under her arms as though she is merely a doll, and her bottom makes it out of the cage last.

That's the trick to moving dead weight. The center of gravity tends to go toward the backside. Wherever you dump their arse, the rest of the person will follow suit pretty easily.

Given his usual profession in the Domains he calls home, Dillon has a bit of experience packing inert bodies into tight spaces.

With one arm under Velma's shoulders, the Gangrel reaches down to sweep her knees into his other grasp. He gives a look to the cross, then back to Asa.

"Though, she was pretty hysterical near the end. Didn't fight hard enough for me to be convinced it was any kind of frenzy, but you never know. She was getting close, at any rate."

* Dillon would have fed her about 5 Vitae over the course of many nights from his herd to accomplish this.

[Asa]

Asa settled himself comftorably as Dillon Connery ( Wolven Pryde ) spoke again. He was glad to hear the Reeve had taken precautions, and leaned forward to watch with keen interest as Dillon unpackaged Velma. Arnold would never have been so gentle. It made him curious if it were a regard for Velma herself, or some other motivation.

Asa looked at the cross himself. Velma was a Daeva -- some of whom were wont to develop their physical prowess as much or moreso than their powers of charm. He doubted anything in the room would hold her if that were the case.

Yet, Dillon had handled her before.

With an amused shrug, Asa settled back against the couch.

"Pull the stake out."

[Vampire ST]

Enough time has elapsed in real time that Velma Star ( Wod.Infant ) will naturally rouse from Torpor.

[Dillon Connery]

If Dillon has any thought at all about how gingerly he's treating the Daeva corpse, it may be that she is in this instance His Majesty's prize. Thus perhaps he is taking care not to damage her any further with that regard.

Or it could be simply that he doesn't want the latex fetish wear she's clad in to be marred accidentally by snagging on a wrought iron cage. Smashing a guitar on stage is all part of the show. Dropping it down the stairs in the back is positively tear-jerking.

Whatever his reasoning, the Reeve simply nods again at Asa's direction. There is a brief purse of his lips, or sort of a consenting frown, as he does so. That 'you got it, boss' sort of thing.

Lying her on the other couch opposite the Prince, Dillon lifts Velma's shoulders enough to draw a zipper partway down her back. Enough that he can peel the costume down and expose the head of the stake in her chest. It has been cut; nearly level with the surrounding flesh so that it didn't protrude through the outfit. Which will make getting it out a little on the annoying side.

Dillon exerts his will over the Blood, granting power to his muscles. Bite to his grip, that is slightly less lethal than the claws he can manifest if he has to. This is both to be able to curb any resistance efficiently later, and to remove the bit of wood now.

One hand on the Daeva's throat and collar to push against, Dillon wrenches what's left of the stake out with his other.

The hand holding her body against the couch stays where it is, as Dillon waits to see if she will stir on her own. Indulging in his own dark sense of humor, the hood and gag ball stay where they are too. He wants to see her reaction to them.

-2 Vitae for Vigor and Resilience