This is exactly the kind of crap Grey works so hard to avoid. Under the intense stare of arguably the eldest kindred in the city Grey could nearly shake. The Lanky Nosferatu will visibly bite his tongue with all his filed teeth and bob his misshapen head at the Regent before giving him a half a bow and retreating immediately.

He stands apart for a minute composing himself, calming himself. He never liked when someone upset him and it had been quite some time. He placed all the emotion in a corner of his mind and will retrieve it when her elder comes to call. He will want answers.

He turns back, his face awash with calm again. Nodding toward his apprentice he flashes a knowing glance suggesting they will speak of this later.

Beaumont heard the demand for an explanation promised in the eventual future...but didn't really think much of it.  She liberated another leech and put it between her teeth as she looked over those that remained...for a halloween party put on by the damned...this place was...well sorta lifeless.

Jessica raises an eyebrow with a crooked grin on her lips. Her expression implies a certain respect for the way the Regent took care of the insolent little witch and an understanding that now was not the time to discuss it.  It was obvious that most of the other Kindred were as unrefined as she was led to believe, even more so if possible.  She remembered when she  wasn't as cultured but lessons were doled out quickly and without mercy.  The Nosferatu had gotten off easy as far as she was concerned but she was sure it wasn't the last of it.  The regent had a very, very good memory.

She lightly touches the regents arm and in a very sarcastic but childlike voice she says, "Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do."

Its a bit corny she knows but she hopes the Biblical quote delivered in such a way might lighten the Regents mood again.  Her night out wasn't going to be ruined by some impetulent sewer rat.

((So obviously I think this whole thing has died off by now...it's been going since October.  I'm going to post a bit of a wrap-up, and whoever is still actually in the party can feel free to carry on whatever concluding conversations or the like that they want.  But basically, I think the party's over))

For the rest of the evening, Deirdre largely avoids the large crowds of gathered Kindred...at least, the crowds as they are.  She doesn't make a point of particularly avoiding anyone, but she's certainly not chatting it up.  For the last remaining hours until dawn, or until every eventually sifts away, she pretends to play the diligent watchdog hostess:  not staying in any one place too long, exchanging minor pleasantries with anyone who approaches, and generally looking like she's busy attending to the details of the party.

The party has been less than she had hoped.  She's not quite sure what she hoped, but this definitely isn't it.  And why should she care?  Perhaps that's what bothers her the most.  The fact that it matters to her.  She had thought herself beyond (or perhaps below?) this kind of petty social thought process.  But she definitely feels somehow let down by the way the evening's events turned out.  Sure several of the big-wigs of the city showed up, and seemed rather pleased by her efforts, but all in all this seemed to be a gathering of the...outcasts of the city, so to speak.  Again, why should she care?

When the last few Kindred have left, with dawn approaching on a new day, a new month, Deirdre finally begins the task of dismantling the decorations and displays.

Christine would help Deirdre take things down, pack things up, letting the kindred go to a well deserved rest while she made sure things were put up, taken back to wherever, and generally taking care of those details.

Especially making sure those 'special bottles' were taken care of properly.  

After all, thats what she's there for.