[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People

[Josh]

Buford, Ashlar, Gaspare
Three vampires
The Conservatory of the Sinclair Mansion
  
  "I am reminded of that other piece of wisdom concerning Dogs Mr Buford. the one about them and Englishmen." Ash smiles a winning smile. His eyes never left the bowl of the Nosferatu's pipe. "Ettienne's sources also report that the Melcom inner circle, the seven here tonight, have been seen quite frequently walking about in the midday sun. Which makes me wonder if they are the thralls or the masters. Until we know that, I'd rather tempt them out with prime rib than try to pet them. However, as my sire would tell you, I've never been one for daring do or reckless abandon."
   
  Buford choked on his smoke, a short stucatto cough that Ashlar couldn't quite place until Buford took the pipe out of his mouth and laughed aloud, alternately tapping his knee with his pipe and pointing at Ashlar with it's stem.  "Prime rib!  Now that, sir, is some of the best advice I've heard in a while.  Prime rib indeed..."  Buford trailed off, smiling while ripples of his laughter occasionally resurfaced and his mustache writhed in gentle waves.
   
  After the laughing jag passed, ee seemed to sink into the shadows falling across his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin with a strange (and somehow unnaturally disturbing) little smile on his lips.  "I think we're both right.  Tempt a dog out with a bit of meat, then see if he's agreeable to petting.  If no one can lure a pup away from his post, then we'll know that they're more afraid of getting swatted than filling their bellies, which may tell us more."
  
[Tag & Dagger]

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