"Yeah, I know" There's a thoughtful smile, this time genuine and heartfelt and not creepy at all. "Been lucky myself in that regard. Had a thing going for me from night one"
When Cynthia fell silent, and she gave Longstreet the look of confusion and bafflement, he feared that whatever weak link of understanding they had seconds ago has now ben severed by his careless words, whatever they might've been. Moments stretched like molasses until they were melted by an unexpected, but oh so very welcome laugh. "Martinis?" It was now his turn to give the baffled look, with a slight addition of "are you shitting me?" But she probably wasn't, so the Bishop snorts with laughter. Weird feeling, that. Even weirder to hear somebody laugh at what you say... even if it's not quite what you intended.
"Changing names, limiting sources of inspiration? Admirable of you to care so much for the Masquerade. Most Nomads are not so careful." That's what he's heard, anyway "Although it probably did no favors for your brand establishment" He pauses "So, how did you meet with this... Sebastian? And the others? Is there like a website or a bar for prospective Nomads? And please don't say it was a coincidence, 'cause there's no such thing as a coincidence" The statement was half serious and half joking, and not even its author did know how it was supposed to sound. "Oh, and if you find that casette of yours... any chance I can borrow it for a night or two, make myself a copy? I'll return the original untouched, scout's honor." He was fully prepared for a surprised expression. Granted, underground rock or metal or whatever the Lunar Moth/Bloody martinis were likely playing was never his thing, but there's first time for everything, no?