(1008) Eternal Court V

[Chris Wooding]

Chris Wooding walks down the steps into the Court. He is damn nervous. He had never had a positive conversation with an elder kindred before. There weren't many people so early in the evening, and he hesitated what to do. When he looks around he sees the Laws of the Domain, and reads them. The laws seem fair enough.

He tries to smile Relax Chris, don't ruin it now. After a few seconds staring to the doors he decides the Senechal is probably the right person to talk to. He straightens his back and then walks to the Seneschal's office and knocks on the door.

[Heathcliff Staley]

Heathcliff sighs when he hears a knock at his door. He had no appointments he was aware of, so this either meant trouble or a new Kindred was in town, which is basically the same thing as trouble but faster and bloodier. He puts away his laptop, his attempts at decrypting the pinnacle of Grimm's work, the formula for the virus, going only slighty quicker than trying every possible letter and number string in existence, one at a time.

Oh, how the civil servant loved the monotony.

"Enter," he intones, putting on his official face. He wears a simple grey suit, white shirt, with a grey tie, that has the effect of making him appear to be the background of his own office.

[Chris Wooding]

Chris gets in the office and sees that this is serious, so he tries to keep his face emotionless but respectful. He bows deep, perhaps a bit too deep and respectful. It takes a few seconds before he trusts his own voice enough to speak clear and certain. 'Hello, I am Chris Wooding of the clan Mekhet, and I'd like to live in Sacramento. I've just read the Laws of the Domain and I would be grateful if I become acknowledged.'

[Heathcliff Staley]

"Please, come in," Heathcliff offers. "Shut the door." He gestures to one of the seats in front of him. "Just arrived and read all the rules already, have we? Wonderful." He fumbles about in his desk as he asks, "I am Seneschal Staley, pleased to make your acquaintance, Chris Wooding. Tell me of your Sire, your Covenant, your reason for coming to Sacramento, you plans while here." The Seneschal does not remove a clipboard to inspire dread in the new arrival. He produces a set of scissors, a tiny plastic bag, and a permanent marker instead. "And, of course, I'll need a sample of your hair, please."

[Chris Wooding]

Chris closed the door and takes a seat while listening to the seneschal. He thinks surprised: A sample of my hair? What, is this a joke or something? He sees the scissors and other stuff, but decides not to think about, as long as possible. Cutting his own hair would be awkward.

'My Sire was Sharon Miller, I met her on a holiday through California. She introduced me in the Circle of the Crone, a covenant which I like very much. Unfortunately Sharon wasn't much more than a neonate herself, and she broke the rules by Embracing me without permission.' Chris pauses a little moment, captured by a memory about her, but then continues:'She is dead now. I could stay in town for a while, time enough to learn about the Kindred Society. But then I needed to leave... and never return.' He waited another moment, these were bad memories, and a little emotion came on his face, but he spoke again before the seneschal could ask anything. 'I came to Sacramento because I wanted a life between kindred who did not have a prejudice of me, thinking I'm trash because of Sharon Miller. Therefore I will behave, and because of my...' he tries to find a good word to define what he felt, but couldn't really, 'love for the Circle of the Crone.' Just when he thought he was finished he sees the scissor again, he asked full of astonishment: 'And what did you say about my hair? A sample?' He tries to keep his voice respectful... he tries.

[Heathcliff Staley]

Heathcliff listens to the Kindred's tale of woe, the search for a place he could live free from the marred reputation of his Sire. This amuses the Seneschal slightly. There is no avoiding one's lineage amongst this pack of predators, not for long, anyway. The Prince of his former residence must have been impressed with him to allow him to live, and learn, before sending him away. As is Heathcliff, since the young man has found the resolve to question a direct order from authority. He smiles weakly at him. "Oh, yes. Certainly. A precautionary measure I take of new arrivals on our Prince's behalf." Ever since I thought of it, anyway. He looks meaningfully at the scissors and back to Wooding. "If you please. Unless you'd prefer I take it myself? I warn you, I am a terrible barber." He chuckles.

[Chris Wooding]

Chris watches Staley, damn, he doesn't look he's going to burst in laughter because of a stupid joke. He takes the scissors and cuts a small piece of his hair and puts in in the small bag. He takes the marker and gives the Seneschal a look, assuming he needs to write his name down. If the Seneschal doesn't say any different he writes Chris Wooding and thinks hopefully this isn't some kind of mojo or voodoo curse, I ain't gonna like that, espacially since I can't do anything about it. Then he gives Staley the bag, looking if he has any futher questions.

[Fractured]

"Thank you," Staley says, taking the bag, smiling for a moment, then hands it back. It had served its purpose. "Just a test, Wooding. You may keep it." He takes the scissors and the marker and returns them to his desk drawer before returning his attention to the neonate. "You will need your Priscus' contact information, as well as your Hierophant's, and I'd like yours," he says, removing a piece of paper and a pen to write Von Schusten and Dirge's numbers down for him. "Do you have any questions for me?" he asks after sliding the sheet of paper across the desk.

[Dark Passenger]

While he writes his number, e-mail and address he says: 'Thank you very much, I was just about to ask for these contacts.' he gives the sheet back with all the information on it to make it possible to contact him he could think of, without embarrasing himself. 'I have no futher questions Seneschal Staley.'

[Heathcliff Staley]

Heathcliff looks at the information provided and the address catches his eye. He looks across at Wyatt questionably. "You have already secured a haven for yourself? This is in Regent Brady's territory. I would advise you to move or seek out her approval immediately. She is not the forgiving type," he tells him, recalling the cold look she had given the Haunt one fateful Court long ago. If she were Prince, and not Clarke, Heathcliff would probably have had a very short Requiem. "But I expect that she might be willing to negotiate with a Clansmen. Perhaps introducing yourself to your Priscus and enlisting his assistance in the matter will smooth things further." He clears his throat. "Chris Wooding, you are hereby recognized within the Domain of Prince Clarke, with all due rights and responsibilities thereof." A wan smile is offered. "You are excused. Have a nice night."