A steady processional of the dead continue, bringing with them the buzz of activity. Already, newcomers are being 'socialized,' which is little more than a polite term for sniffing around. David's beast cares very little for their beauty, shared languages, or any other commonality. No, it sneers and desires to declare its superiority through the only language it knows: violence, terror, and blood.
It's only slightly better for those the beast recognizes; dark desires and sneers are joined by contempt.
David takes a moment, tightening the bonds of the Beast within the mind. The Beast may be strong, but the Man is stronger. Control, hard-won and clung-to, remains and the Beast is brought to heel. Its desires fall only on deaf ears as the chattering of a thousand little birds in David's blood fades.
“Seneschal Harding,” David welcomes, bowing in Katya ( sumthingpositiv )'s direction.
Following Vivian York , they slide into a nearby space together, away from the entry. However, David's attention is on the rainbow-haired Daeva ( Violet ), “Welcome to Sacramento, Miss Barnes. I hope you are settling in, do you have any questions?” The Priscus' voice is a meek, soft-spoken tenor dappled with the tones of the Midwest.