Madcap scratches his neck in contemplate, nails grating against rough scruff.
"Been bikes for me for decades now," Madcap admits, but he had a feeling he was a simpler creature than the youthful Supplicant before him, "Got some interest in a few muscle cars, I guess. Might be kinda common, but I love a good Chevelle or Impala. 1970 preferably. If I ever got reason to hide my face a bit, we'll see. Don't think I'd ever get a yacht, but the sea has its appeal I guess. If it weren't for the Blood. it'd be one hell of a way to live."
Then the suggestion of Derek Mitnick to aid in his little problem.
"I suppose he'd be wanting Prestation, eh?" he said, "Thing about making connections in the Kine is all they want is money. They're predictable. Thing about Boons is they ain't as simple as a few bills. This Mitnick trustworthy? You vouching for him?"
Madcap knew the greater Court could hear him. The plain truth of it was he didn't care.
As Garrett speaks of the pair's mutual interest in that sweet, sweet nectar that was alcohol, Madcap laughed, the exclamation tainted with the same coldness as the chuckle earlier.
"Sometimes in order to see things clearly, you gotta make sure you can't see straight." the Bruja joked. It was an old lesson from his father. Sometimes it seemed like the truth, other times less so. Madcap was building a liking for his gregarious cousin. It showed. They'd have to discuss more even if he, like Vivian, seemed like he was from a plainly different level of society than the Bruja.
And Vivian, too. What a woman.
Not a single ounce of disgust or distrust. Just pleasant smiles and well placed words. She seemed genuine in her words, as well, building the bridges of similarity in their mindsets even more clearly. Madcap was impressed, even pleasantly surprised. As with his burgeoning camaraderie with Garrett, that much was plain to see.
Now it was time to see if she was just being pleasant like the Lords for the sake of court.
"We'll have to exchange details, Seneschal," he said, the smile still on his face, "I'll let you know when I'm planning another ride. Might be a bit. Want to make sure I got things in place. Getting pulled over could ruin the evening."
The offer was made.
"And I don't think speaking plainly makes you a bitch," he says, "If anything, I think it would make you fast friends with a lot of us Savages."
The compliment was earnest. Most Gangrel Madcap had met couldn't give a fuck about niceties and fancy words. They wanted to know what was real.