[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People

[Spikey]

Jeremiah Buford and Ettienne St Clair
Mostly Harmless Nosferatu and Toreador Master of Elysium
Sinclair Mansion
 
Buford parried the question and feinted with his own.  "Are they still calling them spies?  I thought they stopped that when the Berlin Wall fell."  He chuckled, trying to camouflage where he was directing the conversation in banal banter.  "But thank you for the compliment, however undeserved it might be.  And how is the Lady Sinclair?  Still trying to find a new wife for Allen?"
 
"Actually I think the current Vogue among the other Ivory Tower types is to call them 'intelligence ministers'. A new fashion from London I think. I just tend to be nosey about how well everyone is doing so I can pretend to care about all that shop talk at the conclaves." he grins.

"Allen is most likley being paraded before the current crop of eligable widows even as we speak, poor thing. Dear Margeurite and her obsessions. I think its this house you know? Its huge and I'd be surprised if she saw another soul half the time. I think she likes to dabble in peoples lives to fill her own. Perhaps I should hire a companion for her, or do something to have her husband home more often."

He laughs now, shaking his head.

"You see, its a family trait, meddling. Right now my endeavours are all focused on a mortal woman named Sugar Kane. A singer of the most delightful talent. A pity you don't get out to Club Harlequin very often, I'd love to show her off to you sometime!"


(Tagitty-dooh-dah-day)

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