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Sean leans back in his seat, watching as a very unfunny man is booed off stage. "I'm new to town, myself. Just got here from San Francisco. I'm an Acolyte when I want to be anything at all. I like hard drugs, and fast music and right now I'm just looking for a good time."
He leans back in, looking Taylor in the eye. "So what clan do you belong to?"
The clan question caught Taylor off guard. In all honesty, Taylor hated the stereotype of the Nosferatu, contrary to popular belief not all of them were hideous. With a bit of distaste and a moment's hesitation, Taylor replied. "I am Nosferatu. And you?"
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Sean answers. "Gangrel." He seems oblivious to Taylor's unease and answers the question with a casual air. "All the Haunts I knew in San Fran were ugly fuckers who smelled bad. Lucky break for you, huh?"
Taylor quickly gets over his minor unease in speech from the question. "I suppose lady luck was on my side during the embrace." Looking quickly to the watch on his/her wrist, Taylor notes the time. "Would you like to get out of this lame place and go see if we can find out who's running this city?"
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"Well I agree with you on at least one thing, Taylor my good person. This place is lame and we should get the hell out of here. As for that part about finding out who's running this bitch..." He leans back, snickering, seeming to think for a second. After a moment he wrinkles his nose, shrugs, and says "Yeah, sure. Why not, am I right? You got a direction in mind?"
Taylor nods to the Gangrel across the table and reaches into his/her pants pocket, a second after the hand emerges with a ten dollar bill and places it on the table -- a tip for the service which the duo never received. Taylor stands as Sean's question is considered, "I don't quite have any particular place to start looking in mind but I, for one, am in no particular hurry or rush. How about you, have any ideas where to start?"
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"Weellll... I saw some tags on the way over here, marking this as the rack. A few clan symbols, covenant markers. Maybe if we follow them we'll get lucky. Plus if the Prince is an Invictus then that probably means the more upscale the joint the more likely we'll find em." He stands up, digs in his pocket, and casts a handful of change onto the tabletop, where most of it bounces off and clatters to the floor. He laughs. Because it's funny. "So what if there is no Prince. Won't that be a trip?"
"If it's true that this new prince is Invictus, then we should just follow their covenant markers I suppose." Taylor takes a few steps away from the table, then looks over his/her pinstriped shoulder back to Sean saying jokingly, "Speaking of their symbol, is it based on the letter 'I' for their 'irritant' state of being, or their 'ignorant' one?"
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Sean laughs, maybe a little too hard. It was the only laughter heard in the dead comedy club. This guy/girl/whatever is a hoot!
"How about 'idiotic' or 'intolerant?'"
Still laughing he emerges into the night. He stops as soon as he emerges and scans the skies and the rooftop for the owl that he and Regina had sighted earlier.
Taylor can hear him muttering about it to nobody in particular. "...Fucking owl. Gonna watch me, are ya? Where the fuck'd ya go?"
Upon stepping outside the slight breeze grabs a hold of Taylor's hair and blows it slightly. Looking around, Taylor is unable to ascertain whatever it is that Sean is trying to talk to. Something or other about an owl, that much was for sure. "Not to be rude, but what the hell are you talking about? I don't see any owls watching you..."
Taylor looks around one more time, but sees nothing. He/she gives Sean a look of confusion.
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