The Whip and The Soldier

[Milton]

The Sawyer is the preferred hotel of the political and consulting classes of Sacramento. On any given night, visiting politicians, lobbyists, and business dignitaries can be found in the lobby, at the bar, on their way to their rooms to sleep and dream of tomorrow's deals and conquests.

Accordingly, Milton is familiar with the establishment. He's taken a few meetings in the hotel's various rooms (with the living and the undead) and closely attended to their differing amenities. It's why he's chosen it for his rendezvous with Alder Soldier Quartermain (and Quinn Durant before him). Further, it's how he knew to book this room in particular.

The furnishings are modern, but understated. A wall of windows provides a view of downtown Sacramento that almost makes the city's skyline seem impressive. It's no Boston, of course, but still.

The living room, where the meeting proper will take place, boasts a large couch and two, comfortable chairs. A ridiculously oversized TV, currently turned off and looking like a giant, black mirror, is mounted on one wall. Across from it is hung a large piece of abstract art, which Milton does not attempt to understand.

The Whip of Lords is currently admiring the view. Unblushed and unimpressive in a bland, blue suit. Awaiting his guest who, thanks to Milton's most recent communication, will know to acquire his room key at the front desk.

R Quartermain Jake T

[R Quartermain]

There is a soft knock on the door to herald it opening, before the keycard swipes at the magnetic lock and the door opens. A young woman, clearly Asian American walks in, holding the door open for the Alder Soldier. She is clearly trying her best to be Formal, but cannot quite hide the wide eyes and the desire to go fling herself upon the lavish-to-her furniture. She heroically manages to restrain herself, and closes the door behind her as she leaves with a nod from Quartermain.

"Whip Northbridge," he says formally. "I thank you for meeting with me."

The solder's ball-bearing grey eyes take in the room, pausing over the abstract art for a brief second as well, before joining him at the window. Milton cannot miss the way his eyes take in the city and the faint note of... perhaps disapproval that flies over his face for a moment, though it's clearly in something he sees and not in the meeting, location, or Milton himself. His expression smooths back out as he looks back towards Milton. "And congratulations on your entrance to the First Estate. "

[Milton]

At the sound of the knock, Milton turns away from the window, his back now to the flickering lights outside. He is eerily still, devoid of any of those cues that the breathing unconsciously look for in one another. That, in their signification, amount simply to alive.

He vaguely recalls the woman who enters from the Invictus gathering. He does not seem surprised. Likewise, he does not greet her. Unremarkable, brown eyes track her movements with an unblinking precision, a coldness, that speaks to a deep disregard. Perhaps hunger.

And then she is gone. Leaving only her Master. And his Beast, which Milton's own Monster desperately wants to escape. Its complaints are silenced with a moment of will and reflection upon the importance of the evening.

"Alder Soldier Quartermain, it is I who should be thanking you. I appreciate your taking the time for this conversation." A milquetoast smile. "I must admit, I have been looking forward to this evening."

The Alder joins him at the window and Milton turns to take in the view beside his cousin. He does not fail to catch that look. Indeed, he speaks to it: "It is a touch garish," he says, softly sardonic. "And rather small, really. I would imagine you've stood before much more impressive vistas." Dead gaze taking in the city. "But it is sufficient to our needs. Our society thrives." All that really matters.

"And thank you. It is a great honor. My sire...would be proud." A somber moment. Though, inside, he does not grieve for Elias Northbridge. Has not for a long time.

"But, how are your nights Alder Soldier? How have you acclimated to our fair city?" Glancing from the reflection of Robert's face in the glass to the genuine article. "I noted your...attendant. A recent acquisition, or something you brought along?"

[R Quartermain]

The soldier was quiet for a moment, his expression distant. He dimly heard Milton thanking him and commenting over the city as he maintained his rigid control - he'd become accustomed to his recently lowered blood potency and the tremulous terror that accompanied most meetings with other kindred. But this time was different, this time his beast crawled up his spine and coiled around his mind demanding blood, demanding victory, demanding prey. It did not matter the reason, the soldier noted to himself, the Beast would not be his control but the other way around. Milton was not simply prey, he was a Kindred of Quality and he was the beginnings of what one might hope to call an ally.

Quartermain took an un-needed breath, steadying himself before looking back at the other vampire. "A new acquisition," he replies with the ghost of a smile. "I found I was in need of someone who... understood the city. New cities can be difficult to understand after a time."

[Milton]

Read Emotions, 1 success

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2022-03-16 20:48:30	Milton rolls 4 to Wits + Empathy (10 Again)	7, 9, 4, 3	1 success

Milton notes the far away look. The unnecessary breath. The Alder Soldier seems...distracted. Distant.

The Lord wonders what it could mean. Surely this creature is not anxious about their meeting? What then? The lingering effects of torpor? The Lordly...disorder? No. Don't even consider it. Perhaps a simple bout of melancholy?

Stop speculating. There's business to attend to.

"Well, I hope she provides adequate support. Good help, as they say, can be hard to find." Milton has been thinking about the matter quite a bit as of late. What, with his consulting group growing by leaps and bounds. Someone will need to be brought in sooner rather than later. After all due consideration, of course.

"I can see how that must be true. I hope you are growing to feel more...at home in the domain?" Trying again to gauge the Soldier's progress vis-à-vis adapting to his new context. Since he seems to have missed Milton's previous inquiry while gathering wool.

The dead accountant turns away from the window, facing the room proper. "Shall we have a seat?" Gesturing toward the couch and chairs. "Would you like a drink? Nothing exciting unfortunately. A simple bottle of scotch. I know some among our number still enjoy such things." A rueful chuckle, "Though I have lost the taste for it myself."

Not that he ever, truly had it.

[R Quartermain]

"It is the rare occasion I take the ... effort... needed to actually drink," he replies, following Milton towards the couches. "Forgive me if I would rather focus on the much more interesting track and topic of business. It is a far kinder and far headier drink than scotch."

Besides, some part of him mused as he finally slammed the lock closed on his beasts ire, this was an opportunity and far more rich than any drink could be. He would need the other vampire's help to continue to establish himself, to build the basis for the work.

"As for home," he added, taking a seat with a slightly wry expression. "No, but that is not something I wholly expect to change for a few years yet."

[Milton]

"Nothing to forgive, Alder Soldier." Milton gives Robert an approving look. It's clear that he's only supplied the liquor should his guest partake in such...indulgences. "You and I are of a like disposition. Please, feel free to take the bottle for your...attendant once the night concludes." Milton will certainly not have any use for it.

He assumes his seat in tandem with his fellow Lord. His posture is correct. Some might call him stiff. Appropriate, given that he's dead.

"Yes, it does take some time, doesn't it? For my part, I still think quite often of Boston. Mostly, it's the weather I miss this time of year." Can one look blandly nostalgic? Apparently so.

"Still, I am convinced that both you and I will find space to thrive here. Indeed, I was hoping to provide you a forum where we might discuss that very topic." Making a small gesture with his hands that emphasizes the invitation. "So tell me, how can I help you settle into this new context?"

[R Quartermain]

For not the first time, Quartermain found himself impressed by the younger Lord's demeanor and he made certain that it showed, enough, on his face. It would be unseemly, obsequious even, to show such blatantly; however, letting a crack of it slip past the mask of composure as much to see if Milton notices, and could then be noticed to notice, would set the correct tone for the two of them. Some part of him wondered if the bland disaffection was, itself, the other Lord's mask, of if such was the whole of his personality - either way, a keen mind lay beneath, mask or no.

"Funding," he replied simply. "I had acquired a reasonably large portfolio of assets before I went into the Sleep in the... mid to late 40's. Unfortunately, through some mismanagement on the part of a now dismissed servitor, some blatant theft from other kindred, and the progression of technology much is gone."

Milton can intuit from his commentary that this doesn't seem to, in general, actually bother the Soldier; as if this has happened before and especially in terms of the theft from other Kindred, that such is to be expected where a weakness can be found.

"Much of the stock process is now automated and computerized, which is an area in which I am wholly unfamiliar."

[Milton]

The subtle indications of Robert's approval are not lost on Milton. Nor is the tactful, subdued manner in which they are allowed to color his features.

No doubt, Milton is pleased. Though his response is an equally subtle smile, touched by humility. And a slight inclination of his head.

How nice, to dance the delicate dance of prestige...

And now the rub: money. Remarkable how even the Elders among the undead must come back to it. Vitae, mystical abilities, eternal life. And still, the need for capital. In this arena, the Alder Soldier requires Milton's help. This reversal is not lost on the younger Lord.

"Of course," he sighs. "It is a necessity. And its management does require the utmost care." The ghost of a frown at Robert's mention of previous mismanagement and theft.

"Luckily, your need corresponds directly with my area of expertise." How fortuitous. For both of them "Indeed, I recently performed similar services for a court official to very satisfactory result." He is careful not to mention who.

"Tell me, Alder Soldier, the assets remaining to you: where are they at present?"

[R Quartermain]

His pride compelled him to lie, to obfuscate, and to hide; after all, to admit weakness to someone lesser, it whispered, would be to invite danger. And yet, he mused, folding his hands in his lap as he regarded both his pride and the younger Lord evenly. His care in not mentioning who he assisted was a note well in his favor and the ultimately deciding factor.

"Meager," he replied directly, meeting the other kindred's eyes. "Very little stock or bonds. A few real property locations which have fallen into disrepair, and a few thousand dollars in currency. It is... not a decent place to begin from, but it is where we must begin regardless."

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