(1604) Poachers in the Reeve's Office

[Josephine Sterling]

Josephine ushered the two wayward kindred into her office and gestured for them to take the two leather chairs that sat before her desk. And, though each piece of furniture was massive and plush in it's own right, the chairs were low, making their occupants invariably shorter than anyone sitting behind the Reeve's desk. Something which Josephine took great pleasure in as she strode around to take her seat, laying her duffel bag across the desk with pronounced clank of metal upon wood.

The Seneschal, the Archon, and the Whip were offered the use of the couch which sat on the left side of the office, though the Reeve suspected they would prefer to stand.

A single lamp gave illumination to the room, bright enough to make heightened sight uncomfortable, though dim enough to swath most of the room in gloom.

And, next to the lamp, sat a single clay urn...

"Now then," Josephine began softly, slowly unzipping the duffel bag to reveal a shotgun inside. "I am this Domain's Reeve, Josephine Sterling. This is the most honorable Seneschal Katya Harding, and the noble Archon Twist. Whip Marlon you already know. What I would like to know, however, is why you believe you deserve to stay in this city when you have been poaching in it for so long."

[Yumyumcrow]

The reactions of the pair were markedly different.

Fringe initially opts to stand, her face grave, her mouth a set line of defiant suspicion. Brooding eyes fell onto the bag as it hammered audibly on the table. Smirking and shaking her head slightly she slid into one of the chairs, head twisting so she could stare at the wall close to Josephine's face, but not look at her directly. Under the glare of the others, her shoulder's hunched even more.

Priss... simply folded neatly into her seat with impish delight. Slipping off her shoes she drew up her legs beneath her and from there, proceeded to beam happily at them all. Only when Josephine intoned the Domain Kindred's offices did that serenity shake - at the mention of "Whip".

"We gave you information. We did everything we were told to do. And its not like anyone ever told me where to go. Vorrigan didn't. Roxy Hart - some Regent or whatnot - never indicated it either. Not that we saw much of her. And you tell me - why go out looking for trouble when the only rumours we hear is about shadowy cults and ritual combat to the death? Me - I just want to survive, night to night?"

The words tumbled from Fringe but their spite was feeble in face of the Kindred across from her.

[Twist]

Stepping into the room behind the others, Twist watched the forms of the two poachers with naked curiosity and judging evaluation. At the introduction she offered a dazzling smile that did not reach her eyes to the two.

Making a small gesture of a polite no, she settled into a languid stance near the door. Her gaze on the back of the heads of Priss and Fringe. Or was it the neck she was staring at so intently? That soft spot at the base of the skull where a single blade would bring about so much darkness?

[Garrick Marlon]

Following the others into the Reeve's office, Garrick closes the door behind them. A flicker of surprise plays across his face before Garrick remembers who the Reeve is, that shotgun isn't so surprising then. Noting the Royal Archon near the door Garrick settles, standing, against the wall next to the couch.

A small nod follows the Seneschal's opening statement. The thought of opening his mouth and trying to defend the poachers plays through Garrick's mind. They know how to survive but were complete idiots in terms of how to survive with others. At least now they know who is in charge. Surviving, night to night, yep. Garrick keeps his thoughts to himself and looks at Fringe and Priss waiting to see how they respond. Attention is given to Fringe of the pair, though the eyes make it hard to tell what Garrick is even looking at.

[Yumyumcrow]

Fringe looked levelly at Josephine, her eyes falling only once to the open bag and its displayed contents. With an affected and lazy movement that was much too brittle, the Shadow turned her gaze to Katya.

"Vorrigan owned the bar. Thats all. Licks used to go there for... I dunno. Swap stories. Stare at one another. Sometimes Vorrigan would have something for us, you know? A tip. Or a rumour. Or something that needed doing. He was pretty useful that way."

A shrug.

"Me and Roxy shared only a few words. She gave me nothing. Before now, I thought Vorrigan called the shots. Looks like it was the other way around and she was checking in on him. On us. Roxy didn't seem to care two shits what happened so long as we kept things contained and Vorrigan looked after the street level stuff for her. And for the record, Priss came after Roxy, her Dog and Vorrigan had all left. By then the other licks and drifted off too."

With some effort, Fringe managed a glare - briefly.

"By then, of course, I had figured out my trick. You tell me if its hunting - if they come you."

The affected anger dissolved.

"Once I had that trick figured I stayed in South Sacramento, maybe Florin. Don't look like that, its hard to tell sometimes with that industrial sector and the train line. Mostly I hung out there. Sometimes I had to move things around, staying one step ahead of the... juice bags? Other dealers? Other dealers - they got turf too. I don't need turf, just a place to hang my tag long enough for the word to get out. Then they come to me."

She sighed.

"We would have stayed down there if it wasn't for that gang. It was quiet. Peaceful. No other monsters to worry about." A hint of defiance crept into her voice.

[Garrick Marlon]

"It's how we found them." Garrick speaks up from his part of the wall. "She tags a wall with a pair of fangs. People who like being fed on show up." A hand begins to move but instead flutters briefly before falling. "I like the idea actually except that it leaves a trail. Which means people could get smart." A frown reinforces Garrick's thoughts on that. How humanity hasn't figured it out yet is probably why they're the food.

[Josephine Sterling]

"In London there was quite a culture around marking a territory with tags," Josephine commented with a detached air. "There was an entire lexicon of iconography that was used to display everything from clan, covenant, feeding grounds, and possible threats. I believe my favorite was the tag 'For Leash', which the younger members of my clan liked to use to identify themselves. I must admit, I'm quite fond of its cheek, though I never used it myself. It seemed too fresh, though not nearly as fresh as a pair of literal fangs."

The Reeve's eyes narrowed, her dark gaze fixing upon the poachers in an obsidian glare.

"You see, that's exactly why the Seneschal and myself are being so uptight, or rather, are perceived to be that way in your young eyes. Something as bold as fangs declaring your feeding grown is dangerous for not just you, but all of us. There is power in secrecy, and not all the kine are dumb and lowing. Occasionally they recognize what we are and respond with destructive power honed by fear and hatred. So, by hunting in such a lazy way, you endangered not just yourselves but all of us."

The Reeve paused then, leaning forward in her chair, hands slowly uncurling and laying themselves inches away from the shotgun.

"Yet, in spite of all this, I do see some humor in this situation. Do you know what it is?" she asked rhetorically, lips peeling back in a fang bearing grin.

"It's that, had you not been so slothful and settled for the paltry information that Vorrigan offered you, you wouldn't have had to flee from your own dwelling. As a citizen of this Domain, you would have had protection from interlopers, squatters, and ridiculous brats pretending to be a biker gang. We would have come to your aid with fang and firearms, and whatever else was needed. But, instead, you were chased like a rat from its nest, unable to set up a proper source of chattel for food and instead reduced to such dangerous tactics.

"In short, it made more work for you. Funny, isn't it?"

[Yumyumcrow]

For a long moment, Fringe stares at Katya.

"Other dealers? Juice bags - mortals. My lure stepped on some peoples toes you know... a wonder drug for the party set. Well... kinda. Anyway, I liked to move around to keep the usual dealer bosses unaware, you know? Seriously? Don't you know the Kiss? It works. Juicebags can't get enough of it. Its so easy to make a placebo."

There was the start of a smile as Fringe dug into a pocket for a plastic candy dispenser stick.

By then, though, the Reeve was speaking. The Shadow's eyes dropped to the duffle bag and rose again, guardedly.

"Yeah. Well, like I said. Vorrigan and Roxy told me nothing. So how would I know? Its not like I'm fat and well fed and have connections. What I... What we have... we earn." A hint of steel. Fangs glinted back in the light.

"Would... Would you? Have. Protected us? Why?" Priss' idiotic smile drained away into blank curiosity. Only her eyes glimmered with sudden cognition.