(The Hungry Dark) Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon had only a brief time to look around, but he couldn't say that he liked what he saw. This is going to be one of those less glamorous evenings, where being Kindred is not what starry-eyed ghouls and blood dolls perceive it to be.

As a matter of fact, Dillon could use some starry-eyed ghouls and blood dolls right about now. But Gloria certainly isn't ready for this sort of thing. Not yet.

So the call went out. All of the numbers of new arrivals that Martha had supplied him with, the Reeve sent a vague message offering the chance to help and prove oneself, gain favor within the Domain's eyes. Along with a warning of how messy and dangerous the job could likely be. He won't hold it against anyone, who decides that they are 'too busy'.

Now standing by his car, parked off the road from a side lot where he suspected Emma and company had made their egress from Raley Field, Dillon takes time to thumb out an answer to a text message from Mister David Regan. Dillon couldn't remember if they'd ever interacted with each other directly, but again, it matched the number for him that Martha had given the Reeve.

Beyond that, he waits patiently for the others to arrive, ever alert and watchful of their surroundings.

[Xander]

James made his way to the scene in his Grand Am. Yeah, it was fourteen years old, but until it breaks down why waste the money for something newer. When he saw Troy step out of the truck the Gangrel decided park a little ways down from him. It was only a few car lengths away, but hopefully it was far enough to keep the stench from getting anywhere near his stuff.

James made his way from his car slowly, his eyes darting about. He was looking at trees, clothes, anything that would indicate to him the direction of the wind. "Hello all." James said as he finally settled where he hoped would be upwind of the Nos stank. He turned and smiled to Dillon, figuring he'd get the intro's out of the way before the smell started to sour his mood. "I'm James."

[Edwin Bridges]

Receiving the message, Edwin grinned in anticipation.

Time to prove thyself, he chuckled to himself, thinking back to his Sire's way with words. It was in his blood, the call to action, to show the world and make his name.

His Requiem.

The faded blue 1979 AMC Spirit was a rust bucket, cheap and spluttering. But it was also the first car Edwin fell in love with back in the day and he'd been itching to get his hands on another. Sure, it needed some work but for now, it got him from A to B, and tonight, B was very important.

Stepping from the car, he headed towards the gathered group, Beast straining from at least two of the Kindred present, although in entirely different, confused ways. It wanted to lash out at the attractive, confident one, but the one with the boyish good looks....Edwin wanted to just turn and get the fuck away. Getting a grip by holding onto the baseball bat tighter that was resting on his shoulder, he felt more comforted by the switchblade in his pocket and the bottle of JD swilling around in the bag slung around his torso. Wearing a pair of denim jeans, black boots, a black wifebeater and a skull & crossbones cap, the Lord was geared for war.

"How's it going?" he greeted, smiling eagerly beneath the brim of his headpiece. "Edwin Bridges, ready to follow."

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon is about to answer Troy, when the Pontiac and Spirit arrive in short order. The big Gangrel doesn't verbally answer, instead casting his hand out to the other two arriving as though to say, ta-da! A mild grin is settled across his features as he slips away from his casual lean against the '68 El Camino behind him, despite the seriousness of the circumstances.

He nods to each man in turn, even as the Beast issues its triplet threat. The sense of its master lurching forward, three targets, one for each hellish, toothy maw... sends the force of demonic canine fury into an excited posture. Six nostrils snort ash across Dillon's thoughts. Three growls try to drive the reason from his mind in favor of violence.

But not tonight.

Or at least, not yet. And not at these boys.

"Mister Bridges," he begins after the others have spoken in turn, "good to meet you. This is James Bolton and Troy McPherson. Speak now if any of you prefer different names in public. Dillon Connery isn't on any legal documents attached to me, so you can call me that. But if you have to put a name to my face for anyone else... let's go with..."

The Reeve glances back into the cab of his car with a searching look, as though mentally referencing something. "Brad Delp. Let's go with Brad Delp, tonight."

Apparently mentally referencing the music he was listening to earlier.

"I'm glad you all came, but you may not be when you see what we've got on our hands."

Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey... stuff

Even though this is continued from a scene that is ages old, Court was stickied first. Presumably James is about to meet Dillon there, so they should know each other here already. Timeline is in flux, etc. Deal with it

[Xander]

"Pleasure Eddie." The Gangrel said with a quick smile as the Beast growled. A sincere smile from the man that turned a bit forced as he turned to Troy. "Good to see you too." It wasn't so bad with the Haunt right now. He was downwind and they weren't handling covenant business, so James could keep himself from reaming against the Haunt for one more night.

He took a second to think on an alias, as well as why they were necessary. "You can go with Ben Goodman if you have to." With a shrug he fell back to silence. James always liked the guys music, he just hoped his age wasn't showing.

[Edwin Bridges]

Taking in each man as they came up with pseudonyms, Edwin frowned slightly. Finally he shrugged and grinned. "Axel Rose, if you want."

It wasn't like he was any good at lying. Something overly ridiculous seemed to fit.

"An honour to meet you all, certainly, but I'm guessing this is a serious issue, Mr. Connery?" Edwin smiled, lowering the bat from his shoulder and resting the heavy end on his boot.

[Dillon Connery]

There is a general chuckle delivered by the Reeve as various code names are selected, and he mirrors Edwin's shrug. "I just don't want any of you using my Real Name for a cop or something, if you run into one and have to sweet talk him."

You can almost hear the capitalization of the two words, as though he is pointedly avoiding using the word Kindred. Though the implication may be that some of Sacramento's finest have heard Dillon Connery before, and he doesn't want the wrong association to be made.

"Anyway," Dillon begins, gesturing toward a large, sleek tour bus and trailer with a band name AnThem splashed across the side at a dramatic angle. It is some distance away, further down the small side lot, and by this point in the night, by itself. All of the other acts seem to have already hit the road, and the only cars left in that direction are a few staff vehicles. There is no one else milling about at the moment. Out here, anyway.

"As far as I can tell, that band is no longer on the premises. They're probably amongst the victims we need to dispose of." The Gangrel is well aware that he's not explained that detail yet, and that's sort of abruptly dropping it in, but it is what it is. "There's a chance we could use it to store and transport, but a couple of the rear tires have been slashed. That's only two out of ten, though, not counting the trailer, so it might still ride fine for a ways."

The Reeve levels an even look at them, just the sort that lets them know he isn't about to sugarcoat anything for them. "Fair warning: it's nasty in there. I hope none of you possess a weak constitution.

"I haven't been briefed on all of the details, yet. But from what I know, something was here lurking in the dark interior of the stadium that wasn't being used for tonight's music show. It preyed on our people and normal folk alike, and may or may not still be around. We've got a witness, maybe two, who I presume are being questioned now, or will be shortly.

"There was some sort of accident on stage, some light scaffolding collapsed or something of the sort. Which I gathered by asking around a bit," and by getting regular updates from Claire. "It looks like it was a diversionary tactic, but for what purpose is unclear. The point is, most of the general public have cleared out. But someone will probably be making rounds to lock up, soon."

[Wolven Pryde]

Note: The California local band AnThem is just famous enough that any of the gathered Kindred may have heard of them. Especially an LA native, such as Edwin. If any of them have seen AnThem live, they will know that it is a Kindred band, as well. They're a pretty well known Hard Rock group around the whole west coast, with a bit of a Shinedown flavor. Lead vocals/rhythm guitar - Martin Krieger, lead guitar/secondary vocals - Katherine Carnes (known as K.C., or 'Kacey'), bass/vocals - Derek Brown, and Eddie Sinclair on drums/vocals.

Dillon probably doesn't know a bit of this, given his taste in music is two decades old at minimum.