Civil Minds, Savage Hearts

[Dillon Connery]

The Lily is a classy joint, that Dillon Connery is actually quite fond of. It has the air of a gentleman's club, only somewhat more modern and without being exclusive to gentleman.

Slightly more lounge, and less rave.

It also has the luxury of booths that allow the occupants a full view of the other patrons, while maintaining both mundane privacy and the Masquerade. Dillon is in one of those circular booths with their one way glass right now, texting Michael Redfill his location so the man won't have to inquire at the bar.

Having found a suitable replacement for the pinstripe jacket that he'd splattered and then smeared Velma Star's Vitae all over, the Reeve is very business-casual.

A loose term, admittedly, given what his business actually is.

[Michael Redfill]

Michael likes The Lily. He favors the place both for business meetings and pleasure. This time, it's the latter. At least, that's what he hopes, because with Kindred you can never be sure that a friendly chat won't turn into a discussion about subverting a coup or something similar.

For today he picked a fairly casual get-up, seeing as this wasn't Court and there was no dick-measuring in the immediate future. But not to casual. One doesn't simply walk into The Lily wearing crap.

As Michael enters the booth, he immediately feels the press of Dillon's Beast. Although familiar, it still is terrifying. Which doesn't particularily prevent him from smiling and extending his hand to his Priscus in greeting:

"Good evening, Dillon."

[Dillon Connery]

The sight of his cousin approaching the booth allowed Dillon the fraction of a second it took to master the ever-anxious Beast.

Primal, hellish, canine fury leaps forward in the Reeve's psyche, snarling smoke and burning cinder. Three collars are stopped short by one mental leash, and by the time Doctor Redfill opens the door, Dillon is already standing and smiling.

Another advantage of The Lily.

Dillon accepts the handshake with the firmness and respect that characterizes his entire persona. "Good Evening, Mike. How's freedom treating you?"

If anyone catches any of that before the door to the large private booth is shut, they will probably assume Michael was recently released from Folsom Prison.

[Michael Redfill]

Michael smiles, closing the door behind him firmly before answering:

"Thank you, much better. Most of the rage is gone. The rest will be after I help make sure this doesn't happen to anyone else in Sacramento."

There is a sigh, as he sits down:

"This brings back memories. So, how is the whole Reeve thing? Judging by how relaxed people were during the last Court, the job suits you." - Michael grins for a moment, - "And it's a good example to any of our cousins thinking that we are supposed to accept any modicum of responsibility only after prolonged complaining."

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon reclaims his seat as Mike takes one, laughing at his very accurate joke on grumpy Gangrel. "Let's hope I send the right message to those of our family, and those who are not."

The question, however, is not something he can immediately answer.

Not without a sigh, at the very least.

"Ever hear the expression 'it's lonely at the top'?" He gives a little shrug, as though to say that isn't the whole truth, but there is some truth to it. "I get the feeling that people are beginning to avoid me for fear that I am looking for trouble.

"I am looking for trouble, mind you, but not to accuse someone of it undeservingly."

The Reeve leans back against the rounded couch seat, lacing his hands loosely behind his head. "We had this one guy show up a few months ago, one of ours, a real piece of work.

"He's either a Bruja, or trying really hard to make everyone think he is in order to intimidate them, or something. Anyway, the idiot breaches the First by using Court Titles right in front of Elysium, out in the open, and after my warning him against it."

Without missing a beat, or dropping his usual friendly tone, Dillon continues, "So I very politely told him that if he didn't mind the Traditions, I'd wrap his bike around his neck and bury him with it.

"And the fool threatened me. Didn't back down when I reminded him that I was both his Priscus along with being the Reeve, either. Which I did only to help the poor sod."

One eyebrow raises.

"Can you imagine what would happen if someone were to pull that with Twist? Or the Prince? Or most any other Kindred in a dark alley?

"But guess what I was accused of for all of this?"

Dillon had planned on following the rude, ignorant moron to remove him from the bad influence his kind have on Gangrel. And just as importantly, eliminating him from the bad image he presented to other Clans. But fortunately for him, he fled the Domain before the Safari was ended. By the time Dillon went looking, neither Jackson Magnus or his precious motorcycle were anywhere to be found.

[Michael Redfill]

Michael nods at Dillon:

"You do."

He listens carefully to his Priscus' thinking outloud about his position before laughing quietly:

"Somehow, I don't picture you as someone who can't be satisfied unless he's everybody's best friend. I'd consider the fact that people are generally cautious around me a boon."

As Dillon talks about one of their more stupid cousins, Michael frowns:

"I'm not too good with the whole Bloodline thing. I suppose Bruja are one of the even less social and resposible Gangrel?"

Who the hell thought it was a good idea to move us into that direction?

In the end, he grins:

"Of being malicious, mean and scary?"

Okay, I should really think those references through before they come our of my mouth.

"In all seriousness, I assume the guy thought that you were abusing your power in order to realize some sort of personal dislike for the man. It's what such people always think: that somehow the world has a beef specifically with them." - the Doctor shakes his head slightly in apparent bewilderment at the Bruja's stupidity.

There is a pause:

"It's a shame he bolted. I would really have liked to see the face of someone waking up from Torpor with a bike wrapped around them."

[Dillon Connery]

"Oh," there is a waggle of Dillon's elbows that might indicate a shrug, positioned as he is with his hands behind his head. "The Filhos des Bruja, which is literally just the 'Sons of Bruja', began as a group of nomadic Gangrel bikers. They have a penchant for being cruel, violent, and sloppy with the Traditions.

"I've never met Bruja himself, but the Bloodline is a young one. He may be just as young. I have met plenty of his kin, however. They're all over this part of the country, and down in Mexico."

The Reeve is actually glad Michael didn't bite at his question. Martha's condescending declaration of him squabbling with Jackass Magnum still irks him. It cut him very, very deep, to be honest. But to share it here, even with his friend Mike Redfill, feels an awful lot like gossiping.

Maybe Dillon has every right to gossip to his cousin, but that doesn't mean he likes it. Rather, he rebukes himself for nearly ranting into it in the first place.

I'm sorry Martha, but that hurt.

Thankfully, they have a simple avenue by which to pursue another conversational direction. "You're probably right about the fellow. He certainly wasn't interested in any spoken words other than his own. Insulting me where he thought he was safely behind the Herald's skirts, though?

"Somebody's going to beat the tar out of that coward long before I ever get the opportunity to. He had no idea I'd just come from laying the law down to a bunch of rowdy Bruja in Baja." The alliteration still makes him smile, a bit. "They're minding the Masquerade just fine now, apparently. Because I told them I'd come back if they didn't.

"Where were you, before Sacramento?" He'll tell Mike about Mexico if he really wants to hear it, but Dillon is also curious.

[Michael Redfill]

Michael waves his hand dismissively:

"Let's not talk about the guy anymore. Deaf cowards don't live long among us. Listening is more important than being able to take multiple hits for survival as far as I'm concerned."

It's clear to him that there is something more to that story and the 'Herald's skirts' comment doesn't escape his attention, but Mike thinks that Dillon can tell him the rest when he wants to. If he wants to.

After they start speaking about Bruja, there is a noticeable increase in his interest:

"I wonder how you came to head that bunch. And why you took the responsibility? Although I can try to guess considering the work you've done for our clan here in Sacramento." - Michael grins.

When Dillon asks about where he came from, his smile turns a little whimsical:

"New York. I'm young. Been Embraced only a couple years before coming to Sacramento. New York is where everything started. It's where I almost got killed, met Andrey and truly understood the meaning of 'unorthodox training methods'" - Michael looks happy, remembering those days, but there is something in his eyes hinting that he didn't find that time as enjoyable back when he lived it.

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon nods. "Just remember the name. You never know when it might crop up years down the road. Forewarned, and all that.

"The whole reason I came to ride with the Bruja down in Mexico is the First Tradition. During the last stretch where I was mostly nomadic again, that's basically what I did. Roamed around, sniffing for breaches and taking care of them. Especially in remote, out of the way areas where there is no real Domain to speak of.

"Baja was like that. So when a big gang of Bruja settled there, having decided that the main faction is a little too extreme for them, I guess, they ran unchecked. Killed a lot of their meals, barely hid the empty bodies, using their gifts whether people were watching or not, not even trying to avoid cameras, you name it."

One eyebrow cocks in sort of a wily look. "Needless to say, they weren't very hard to locate. And I had to fight my way into earning their trust and respect."

There is a pause, and Dillon gives a pensive frown and a sideways tilt of his brow. "But I've got to admit: It's so much simpler when you can change someone's mind into agreement and following you by splitting their nose with your forehead."

There is another nod at learning a little more of Mike's past. Something's familiar about it... but perhaps because he'd mentioned a bit of it before. It's a question Dillon asks often enough. "I really enjoyed myself, the few times I visited the Big Apple. Interesting Kindred, interesting kine. We get quite a few New Yorkers that come through here.

"Both Ashley Cohen and Deputy Callum McCann spent time there, as well as Ariana Donovan and, I assume, Conner Greyson. Huge Domain."

[Michael Redfill]

Michael nods:

"Ok, if I ever see the guy, I'll be sure not to take part in his self-destruction on his side."

The doctor listens to the story about Mexico with a smile:

"Sounds like a real... what's the polite expression... backwater town. And a Masquerade catastrophe just waiting to happen. My Sire actually is a strong advocate for 'fist in your face' method of persuasion. When it's due."

The smile turns a little sour and Michael shakes his head when Dillon speaks about New York:

"They were either lucky or not Embraced there. Don't get me wrong, I love the Big Apple. And it's vampire heaven: there so many people and there is so much stuff going on that hiding and feeding becomes ridiculously easy." - he pauses to draw some breath to continue speaking:

"But that is precisely the problem. Here, for example, we always have a deficit of capable people and mainly deal with external threats. But everyone wants to come to New York. Basic demographics: lots of Kindred and more coming, limited amount of positions of power, technology everywhere. Poaching and Masquerade breaches are dealt with in a very efficient manner. And neonates are treated like empty space in the best case scenario."

He makes a little dramatic pause before adding:

"I should know about the Masquerade and New York. Managed to become a breach without ever meeting a vampire." - he actually grins at these words as if it is something to be proud of.