Next Tuesday

[Dillon Connery]

The silent, honest, crumbling facade of Moore House looks spooky enough in the daytime. But at night, it can be positively bone-chilling. There is a weak light emanating from within, tonight. For months, talk around the neighborhood had whispered questioningly if the place had been abandoned.

Until one night, the black El Camino started visiting again. Steadily, the place began to see some activity. A young lady and her dog occasionally visited during the day. Sometimes the tall, dashing man and the young lady at night. But gradually, it became clear that Moore House is not abandoned at all.

And neither is its Purpose.

The old Chevy is there again tonight. Though, the man came alone this time.

OOC

Since our phone conversation fell off of page one in comms, let's skip straight to the arranged date, shall we?

[Aileen McFarlane]

OOC

We shall, then

Even though she had had ample time to prepare, and despite the fact that she had been the one finally initiating the meeting, Aοleen still felt extremly squirmy before meeting Bishop Connery. She had nearly never talked to the man, and even though the Grand Wyrm spoke highly of him, his wild Beast couldn't help but make a strong and frightening impression.

Hopefully, that man who had put his faith in the Lord's purpose too, would listen to her, and be the Voice she needed. She felt somewhat alone now that Brother Raluca had gone, but even then, she would have liked to hear a new take, a new angle on her Way. Change and Understanding came from new perspectives, after all.

Having parked right before the Moore House, as instructed, she checked her attire - she had gone with an oridnary grey top that should help reinforce her unassuming nature, went out of her car, and walked to its door.

* knock - knock * she rasped once weakly. After a short while, and since no one answered, she made to leave, but refrained herself. She knew what she was doing. Procrastinating and dodging difficulties instead of facing them.

* Knock - Knock * she tapped more firmly that time.

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon doesn't hear the wee first knock at all. Even though he's listening for a sign of company and expecting Aοleen at any moment, the knock indeed goes unanswered.

Timing is bad, and he is in the depths of the building with his head and shoulders buried deep in rummaging through a cardboard box, even when the second knock sounds. He almost doesn't hear it, either.

There is a pause. Rummaging stops, and his head snaps up and clear of the pawing to listen for further clue. One ear is cocked higher than the other, examining the silence. A flurry of movement, and the Gangrel jumps to his feet and jogs out of the room, down the long hall, and all the way to the foyer.

He opens one of the large double-doors quickly, and pokes his head out. There is a beat, where he just stares at the shy Mekhet. Then he grins cheerily.

The comedic effect is likely ruined at the perception of his Beast pulling open the door with him. Three more heads, poking out the door, blackly canine save for their devilishly hooked teeth and fangs. Of course, they sense only a young woman in Aοleen. Or perhaps a ghoul.

"Hi!" Dillon pulls the door open the rest of the way after the silly greeting, and expands upon it. "Glad you could make it, Miss McFarlane. Please, come in."

The Gangrel Bishop is similarly nondescript in his appearance tonight, in a tan shirt and jeans. The shirt's long sleeves are rolled up to the bulge of muscle at the base of his forearms, and his hands are noticeably covered in films of dust.

"I take it you didn't have any trouble finding the place?"

[Aileen McFarlane]

Aοleen was wondering whether her timing or the address had been inappropriate when she heard the sounds of someone approaching fast coming from the inside, and she thankfully took a step back. It was all that saved her dignity and poise to recoil even further at once from the silent assault of the Bishop's powerful Beast when he opened the door.

The cheery grin was not lost on her, but the Mekhet truely couldn't reciprocate, and instead just stood there silent. She had learn the timing of such silences, though, and before it could get truely awkward, she answered the Gangrel.

"Good evening Mr Connery. Thank you very much for receiving me." she started with. "Your directions were perfect" as was her GPS "and I had no trouble at all finding." she said as she entered the house, trting very much to look interested - which she was - but not prying - which she was nearly doing too.

[Dillon Connery]

"Good, good," Dillon says, stepping back and welcoming Aοleen into the foyer. Unsure for a moment how to approach the topic she had come for, and in no real hurry to do so, the Bishop lifts his hand toward the stretch of the building beyond them. "Care for a tour? There's not much to see right now, as I'm doing some minor renovations, but it will give us an excuse to walk and talk."

The room before them is little more than a circular landing at the end of a hall. There is a staircase some distance in front, and an entrance to the chapel room to the right. The hall mainly branches off into rooms to the left, but there is another staircase down to a basement right below the one up to the second floor.

What can be gleaned from the immediate view is that spaces within are just large enough to be adequate, and without overt grandeur. Traditionally, Moore House has been mostly devoid of any religious iconography. Since Sanctified symbolism differs somewhat from the norm, there isn't much reason to change that.

However, there are some Rituals and practices that demand it. And Dillon is taking some care to observe that.

It's the soldier within him, he knows. Making sure implements of the Dark Miracles are at hand and readily available to a Sorcerer that finds himself in need of one, suddenly.

Thus, standing just on the other side of the line of coat hooks is a simple, but well-made and sturdy glass display case. Inside, there is a collection of silver crucifixes ranging from the ornate, to the very simple. Curiously, the case also contains several knives and daggers, similarly decorated in common popular Judeo-Christian motifs.

There is a single coat hanging on the rack. One Dillon used to wear quite frequently. It looks as though it's been hanging there for some time.

[Aileen McFarlane]

Aοleen was in no hurry to come to the core of the meeting, and accepted with relief the tour. Beside, it might be just what she needed to get in the mood. Looking at the various doors and stairways, it seemed it would take them several minutes at least, and all the more so if they dallied in front of the various items on display, be they books, crucifixes, daggers, or whatnot.

"I would very much like that, Bishop Connery. Are there often others who come to visit the place ?" she started with as an excuse to talk. She secretly hoped they wouldn't go into the basement, because in her experience, that was were the very private, very unwholesome things took place. But she didn't let it through.

[Dillon Connery]

Dillon caught the switch from Mister to Bishop, as soon as they were inside and the door was closed. He's glad that the quiet Mekhet is conscious of such things, even if the block did appear to be mostly deserted this time of night.

It's also some measure of comfort to hear her use the Covenant title rather than the title of Reeve, even thought he'd felt somewhat awkward assuming the mantle of either of them.

"Not as many as there used to be," he answers with a sort of sad smile. Emotions among Kindred are a strange, mercurial thing. And while he holds some nostalgia for the presence of Sidor and Josephine, Castor Drake, and maybe one or two others, he understands that sometimes, people must move on. Whatever the reason, Dillon is sure it was a good one. "But following my anointing and some minor redecoration, I think I'll be comfortable giving Mass to Kindred again.

"Kine aren't really meant to cross that threshold, but occasionally it's necessary for them to."

Leading them down the hall first, Dillon gestures to the first open door on their left. The view reveals what could be a long dining room, with large oak table in the center. A cold and obviously unused fireplace sits against one wall, and is nearly the only other adornment. There are a pair of chests, whose drawers are shallow and contain locked fronts. The surfaces are bare.

Eight chairs surround the table. Dillon has never seen them all occupied at once.

"One of my first nights in Sacramento was spent in this meeting room. Three Haunts, and I." He props his shoulder against the door frame as he stares into the room, seeing the memory. "Each as scary as the next, in their own ways."

There was Arthur, frightfully powerful, but with a mind like a child's. There was Sidor, almost very literally shadowing the Bishop at the time, bullying Dillon with their words to test his constitution, and Anton. With is dead stare, scarred words carved into his flesh, and grim rigor rictus.

Hazel eyes turn to focus on the woman at his side. "I don't suppose you arrived long enough ago to have met Bishop Anton Flores, did you?"

[Aileen McFarlane]

Following the elder Gangrel in his Covenant's lair, Aοleen didn't quite chat amicably - she was too naturally distant for that - but replied to him with deference and a little more warmth, perhaps. She could relate to feeling lonely, no matter if it was one of kind for Clan, Covenant, or whatever else put someone apart. "I'm sure our people will flock to listen to you." she said with conviction, for instance.

The dining room exhaled a feeling of... longing. The chairs longed for people to sit on them, the walls for people's voice to resound between them, the table for elbow to lean on it, the fireplace for a daring soul to rekindle its purpose. Aοleen wondered whether it was what the Lord wanted for them, to remember that they didn't need as much as they thought.

"Bishop Flores, you say ? No, I don't think I've ever had the opportunity to meet him." She would have inquired about his current whereabouts, but feared she might make a faux pas and kept quiet instead, waiting for the Savage to expand as he saw fit.

[Dillon Connery]

Hazel eyes stare into the room a long time before Dillon says anything. What he's thinking isn't readily apparent. Not that he's trying to be mysterious, or anything. Just reflecting on the (by now) countless Parishes he's visited over the decades, and what being Sanctified has meant to each and every one of them. There's as much different as there is the same.

And now that he's a lone Bishop, with other members of the Spear slowly beginning to trickle through again, he supposes that means he has an opportunity to define exactly what it means to Sacramento. And a responsibility not to let others be misled.

"You didn't miss much," he finally says, with a slightly impish smile. It's as much an admission that he's withholding a more severe judgement for the sake of not sounding crude or coarse. "Perhaps there was some understanding there, once. Some insight to the Sanctified Canons. But in the end, it was merely violence and cruelty for the love of violence and cruelty. Malice, for the sake of malice, and lacking any modicum of conviction."

The Gangrel had oft wondered, in his more bleak moments of reflection, if it was the end that they all faced. Maybe not just for the Lancea Sanctum, but for Kindred in general.

Then, he sucks it up and kicks the Beast. Just to hear some barking and exert his control over it.

Dillon hasn't fallen to that weakness, because he isn't weak.

Pushing away from the door frame gently, he shrugs. "I suppose we will see who turns up to listen soon enough. Do you feel comfortable doing so?"

There is no movement made to advance them down the hall, just yet. Dillon is more concerned with conveying the sentiment that he always has-- Kindred are welcome here, regardless of their chosen Covenant affiliations.

[Aileen McFarlane]

The Gangrel's gazes, his unspoken words and pauses between his sentences all carried the weight of a man whose mind was crossed with many thoughts. Aοleen could relate, and respect that. Taking her eyes away from the dining room and back on the Bishop, she shook her head in denegation at his words. "I'm sure there were once Kindred here who gathered with pure intent, genuinely looking for the Lord's guidance." she said. Was she overly sensitive, or delusional ? Regardless, she had had this conviction at the sight of the building. It didn't mean Dillon's words were any less true, though.

When he asked if she felt comfortable listening, she had to refrain from giggling. It was what she did every time she massaged the Kines, and she had developed it to the level of art. "I find comfortable listening to people's stories, yes. More often than not, it's only small things. But sometimes, you can discover unexpected facets which shed interesting lights on the world." and she thought about that elderly woman, nearly obese, noisy and unamicable, who turned out during the massage to be miserable because her garden had been saccaged by rascals. She had found it both moving and irritating, and that twin feeling was interesting in its own.

"Do you plan on hosting a Mass soon, or something ?" she had to ask as she moved back into the hall and ready to follow Dillon in his tour of the house. The works could mean so.