[Sodium_noir] Fw: Hell is other people

[Spikey]

[a resent as the player missed it. Sorry if you already read this one.]


Montoya, Devlin, Mara, Crosby
vampiric quartet
The Sinclair Mansion

"I think that my Clan needs representation."  Mara replies.  "I have only just learned tonight that Senor Guiness' former home is already being divided up.  While it is true that most of my kind have little interest in business matters, the Clan should have been given at least some warning about this."   Admittedly, at the moment, there was no one TO warn, but that was beside the point.  The former Primogen's Domain should have been respected...or at least protected.  


The Prince says nothing for a while, and Mara is left wondering if he knew about Guiness' bussiness being bought up. Something had caught him off guard certainly and he was co-alating. She even gets to wonder if it was her directness thathad given him pause, the man had a poker face like a vegas champion. Maybe it was just a way to get her off gaurd and nervous.

"I am fully aware" he says eventually. "Of the need for a Primogen to replace poor Arthur, and I trust your Clan understand that I have not completely ignored the loss of your voice on my council. But you must admit, prospective replacements are a little thin on the ground!" he leans down and sniffs at a bouquette of lillies. His eyes close for a second as he savours what remains of thier scent.

"Your Clan has never been renown for its total immersion in the status qou Mara, especially in Gotham. Most Brujah looked to Hector as thier voice, and the rest are of the Dusk line and flaunt thier Autarkis staus like a badge. Most disrespectful at times. Arthur was  aare individual in your Clan, not entirely popular with the majority, he had enough of thier trust to walk the razors edge betwen them and the true Blue Camarilla types. Finding another member who can truly bring the Brujah case and yet still be worthy of the seat in my vision for the city is a tremendously difficult prospect." Finished with smelling the flowers, the Prince snaps their heads off one by one in a slow deliberate fashion. letting them fall to the table top.

"I could make the offer to the Clan and let them suggest a candidate, but that would make me appear weak and I'm sure you can see why I dislike such a proposition. On the other hand, what Brujah would want to join my Primogen, to help me in my vision, and risk disfavour with the anarchs and the philosophers and the Rabal rousers? Who would be stout enough to ask for the position and still 'street' enough to be of use?" he smiled a cold smile.


[You tag up, you won't back down]



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