(1604) Formal Court

[Garrick Marlon]

Rapid, sturdy, steps bring Garrick down into Elysium. A quick pat at each hip to make sure he didn't bring anything illegal and Garrick walks into Court prop at a quick pace. Sunglasses freeze at his hip as the other monsters in the room notice his and his theirs. Fear and Hate play out in a frantic battle as Garrick forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Being late is bad, being late when things have already started is worse. Motion returns and Garrick's head swings to regard the new Kindred and then to the two poachers. The White Eyed Nosferatu blinks and forces himself to slow and calm down. Letting the monster close to freedom is not good.

Everyone else is ignored as Garrick walks to the gathering storm of senior kindred. "Good evening Prince Clarke." A bow to the Prince of Sacramento. "Good evening Royal Archon, Seneschal, Reeve, Priscus." Deep nods to the others as well.

"I'm sorry for not getting here sooner Seneschal." Garrick's dark grey button down shirt shows signs of being quickly tucked in and faint hints of dust can be spotted at the bottom cuffs of his black pants over black dress shoes. Noticing the sunglasses still in his hand, Garrick hangs them from the right pocket of his pants.

[David Silver]

Silver twists the bracelet on his wrist, running a finger over each of the strands that make it up, thinking of the lives that each represented. To be is to change, and to stagnate is to not be.
He walks forward into Nox, looking ahead to another formal court, an opportunity to talk and gossip and listen to the perspectives of others. Perhaps he will meet Allesandra again, and talk with her further. Though he hopes that Martha is here. They have much to catch up on in the intervening years.

He enters wearing a pale golden pants and long shirt, his steps slow as the press of beasts drives him to alternating feelings of rage and terror, as the beast seemingly splits in two in his mental garden, shredding through the ivy holding it from attacking before running into large cedars planted close together, stoppign forward progress, while the retreating portion gets lost in a corn maze, as david's feet carry him forward on auto-pilot. His mental energy is consumed for some time, before finally he gets both portions of his beast contained. Looking up, he finds himself close to a new person, as well as someone familiar. Obviously he was too focused on the maze, and unclenches his hands from the fists they had subconsciously tightened into.

"Hello Whip Antinori, good evening Miss. I trust this evening finds you well?" David says to Alessandra and Brittany
Before he gets too far ahead of himself, he turns to the Prince and his Court, and offers a bow to each of them. Their generosity is what allows all of this to happen, and it is right to thank them for the opportunity to worship without persecution.

[Pixie Styx]

Nell gritted her teeth as the yowling, hissing cry of her Beast sounded. There were many, many monsters in the room. and Nell knew there were still more to come.

Seneschal Harding addresses her, Nell responds with a deferential nod in greeting. Then the pale women motions for her to follow, and so Nell does.

"I've not the pleasure." Nell tells the Senechal, as her eyes are drawn the the alluring women the Archon. Nell was feeling more then grateful towards the gangrel for pointing her out, saving the shadow from potential mishaps.

"Your Grace." Nell says with a smile, ducking her head and slipping into a simple curtsy. When Nell rises she known not what to say or do, and is saved for the moment when David materializes like the shadow he is.

"Priscus Regan." Nell greets, another deferential nod is given.

An imposing women, clad in monochromatic, black, the pale white of her complexion stark in-comparison approaches, and Nell knows that she is nothing to this stern women. Hopping to keep it that way. She does not wish to get on anyone's bad side, especially not someone who can simply walk into this grouping of individuals as if they belong.

Then the Prince arrives. Nell's eyes are drawn to him in a way they have not been drawn to anyone else. 'Reeve.' he says. The imposing women is the Reeve. At least now Nell has a name to the face. The teal-haired shadow slips into another curtsy, rising after a moment held in place.

Then her eyes sweeps the auspicious company she's keeping this evening, and wonders just what this business that hold's the Domain's most important player's attentions. 'Poachers?' Nell's mind grabs onto the word. 'Now who could they be? There were a few new faces...and if they Haven'd here...'

Whip Marlon approaches, an apology on his lips, and the Seneschal offers her office for use. Nell breathed a mental sigh in relife, she both wanted, and didn't want to stay in their company. Wanting to stay to sate her curiosity, while also not because she'd rather not drawn negative attention her way.

[Twist]

Court began the slow but steady filling that was to be expected when it was capital F Formal. Despite that it was still empty enough when @Katya Harding approached with Nell Cooper that Twist saw them coming with enough time to restrain her beast before it could become a nuisance.

Smiling warmly at the greeting, she returns the bow with her own curtsy to the City's Seneschal. Straightening, she beams. "Thank you and I have. You cut a most striking figure yourself Seneschal," she replies, her tone honest and frank in her admiration of the woman's clothing choice.

Turning to the newcomerNell she grants her a similar once over, her dark eyes taking in the blue hair, the LBD, the heels and everything underneath it. "It is good to meet you Miss Cooper. Have you been in the city long?"

Though her attention was on the conversation at hand, she was old enough to know to not become blind sighted to the rest of the world. As such, she returned Alessandra 's bow and Vivian York 's gesture with a brief dip of her head and couldn't help but notice two more newcomers arrival in Court. Though theirs was a far cry from what Twist would describe as proper, even without her Covenant beliefs.

But, it seemed that polite introductory conversation with Katya and Nell would have to wait, despite Twist's attempt at small talk. Both David Regan and Josephine approached, and both with only business with the Seneschal on their mind. Again, a dip of the head in return but aside from that she did not intrude on their missions. Besides... her attention, nearly all of it for that matter, had already moved on.

For all that her previous smiles had been warm, compared to the one she offered the Prince, they would have to be reclassified as cool, almost cold. Dipping into a curtsy much lower than what had been offered Katya, she murmured, "Prince Clarke," and rose. As she did and he continued, her smiles faded, tucked away politely for the benefit of others, and a small wrinkle appeared as his words sunk in.

"Oh," she breathed, the word small but carrying the weight of her surprise at Martha's decision.

She forstalled commenting more concrete words though with the approach of yet another, Garrick, to the small circle of Kindred, returning his greeting absently with her own. In a reversal of just moments before, her focus has shifted. No longer on the immediate vicinity and its players, but rather outward. On those even now mingling and breaking away into their own groups. On the two who had come as their own group.
[expenditurereason]-1 Vitae for Vigor. -1 Vitae for Resiliance.[/expenditurereason]

[Wod.Infant]

The sun is already a distant memory when I arrive at the Nox and descend the stairs into court. Tonight I’m wearing a black button shirt woven from a transparent fabric on the sleeves. Dark grey pants and black heels give my ensemble that extra formal touch without going over the top, golden loop earrings say I'm caring enough to bring jewelry but the quick bun I’ve managed to tie my dark blond hair reveals a bit of my carefree attitude.

As I come into the court properly I keep my eyes locked on the ground until the moment I’ve steeled myself for it. Eyes up I feel it gnawing ravenously at the back of my brain urging and inciting rage and murder and blood and all the other primitive and mindless butchery we keep locked in that very very dark corner of our soul. It’s the beast wrestling control of me.

Once I placate it and put a leash on it I advance. There is this bald gentleman next to me with these very disturbing and very hungry eyes. I look to him and smile, not without its effort! Jack Carrigan

”Hey there, I’m Martine, Martine Klauser.” the liquid and French tone of my voice betraying more than I would probably want. I wave at him in lieu of extending my hand for a handshake and wait for his reply all while noticing the groups and the faces that show up and how they are starting to mingle.