The night after the first meeting for Project Thorns, Deirdre gives the casino a call.  "Please inform Mr. Arturo tha' Deirdre McNevan would like t' set up an appointment, as requested," she tells whatever receptionist answers at the other end.  Normally she's not one for the whole appointment gig, but she figures that Arturo is the sort to put a good deal of stock in manners and protocol.  Besides, it would be only respectful.  She can hear her brother's sarcastic snort, as if he were there next to her.  I t'ought ye'd be better than toadyin' up t' th' Man.

"I'm not 'toadyin' up'," she whispers as she makes the appointment.

Then what d'ye call it?  Cuz all I see is ye turnin' t' yer enemy t' be helpin' ye.  Ye're puttin' yerself at his mercy."

"I'm getting back on my feet."

Ye're settin' yerself up t' get kicked down again.  Ye never learned, did ye?  Ye gotta fight, ye can't run away 'r give in

"I'm not giving in!" she slams the phone down, and whirls around.  And realizes that he isn't really standing there next to her, and she's been talking out loud to herself the entire time.

She brushes her fingers through her unruly black hair.  Lord God, what was that?  It was nothing...nothing.  Just...nothing.

The receptionist will pencil in 'Miss MPD' for midnight on whichever night she requested...

((well the "conversation" was mostly intended to be out of earshot of the receiver.  But whatever.))

On the night of the appointment, Deirdre pulls up to the casino on her usual battered bike.  She's dressed a little more formally than usual:  a black blouse and black slacks.  They look fairly new, as if she just bought them.

She steps into the casino and informs the receptionist that she's here to see Thomas.

(Im just fuckin with ya.)

Deirdre will be escorted into an area of the Casino few ever see. Back halls that bypass crowds, one way mirrors that overlook even the private lounges. Thomas's office can see it all.

The escort will open the door and let Deirdre into Thomas's office. Its like a bubble overlooking everything at once either by one way mirror or with big flat screens tied to cameras.

The office has a far more modern feel than the rest of the casino with tile floor and dark wood. The walls are hung with paintings wherever there isnt a video screen. Two plush chairs sit before a massive desk that has everything but a computer. But then again rumor has it Thomas cant even drive, so how would he use a computer?...

Thomas sits behind the desk and looks up as Deirdre enters. The girl could still use some color, but at least shes not wearing any spandex or leather.

'Deirdre my dear, welcome. I trust things are going well with the reconstruction of your club?'

He will stand to offer her a seat, a shiny cart with two crystal glasses and an opened bottle of the wine and blood mix he always offers to guests rests in a corner.

"Thank ye," she says politely and takes the seat offered.  "It's goin' well.  We had the first part o' the project th' other night.  Had quite a few folks show up.  Slater...uh, Matthew Slater...came with a whole crew o' his street people," she says with a wry smirk.  "By th' way, thank ye fer sendin' Christine t' help out with th' finances."  She appears to be a little less uncomfortable this time around than at the last meeting, though by no means does she appear to be in her element.  She glances around at the television screens, half curious, half as if she's trying to find a way to dispel the nervousness which still pools in her.  

"By th' way, congratulations on ye're promotion."  

--Last edited by Tara532 on 2008-10-01 11:06:25 --

'I hope Christine will prove useful to you, she can be so dreadfully shy sometimes...'

There are probably reasons for that, but Thomas wouldnt discuss them here, nor with Deirdre... He moves to the corner of the room, ignoring the video screens to pour a glass of the thick wine.

'Thank you. I fear my being named primogen was inevitable, as much as i tried to put it off... I hope i can fill Marcuss shoes.'

Thomas will offer Deirdre the first glass of deep red.

'Have you had any new problems with the sheriff, i would hate to see him hinder your construction.'

If Thomas was trying to sound concerned it fell flat, he cares less about Deirdres club than he does the sheriff wasting time and resources on a petty fued than the sabbat threats...

"Thank ye," Deirdre says, taking the wine and sipping it.  "I'm sure ye'll do a fine job as primogen...ye were virtually one anyway.

"Nay.  I haven't e'en seen the Sheriff, 'cept at th' court meetin."  She pauses for a few moments.  "I don't suppose ye've talked t' him 'bout our last meetin?  Not tha' I'm rushin' ye," she quickly follows up.  "I jus' have a feelin' tha' won't go over very well with him.  If he does cause anymore trouble, that'll be when he does it."

She fidgets a little in the chair, unconsciously.

'Our Sheriff has been very busy. I havent been able to pin him down for a meeting yet. I suppose a visit to his smokers lounge is in order...'

Thomas admits.

'Dont worry about the sheriff. He has far bigger threats to be dealing with these nights. Besides, i hear your gathering quite the little crowd of young ones...'

Thomas pours a second glass and returns to his desk. If he noticed her fidget he doesnt draw any attention to it.

"Well, I figger wi' the Sabbat 'round an' all, we need t' put ourselves t'gether.  An' besides, I d'nae wan' anyone t' fall in the same kinda hole I did.  Sort o' a union, someplace we can pool resources if one o' us gets in trouble.  An' hopefully we can guide any newcomers int' the city.  The Prince doesn't seem t' be too...lenient on slip-ups nowadays."  She shrugs, knowing she walks a potentially thin line.  She's aware enough that this isn't just a friendly chat, that Thomas is keeping an eye on her as much as he's using her to keep an eye on other things.  And while she's meant no threat with her attempts to band together the neonates, recent events have shown her that no threat needs to be present for anyone to jump to any sort of conclusion.

Thomas nods agreement to Deirdre. There is always cause for concern when disenchanted neonates start getting organized... but they are a far lesser evil when compared to packs of roving diablerist sabbat.

'Our prince does what he must.'

Thomas shrugs, its not his place to judge the princes actions anymore than it is Deirdres. Until Carters sometimes mad decisions come to effect his clan, Thomas sees the malkavian prince as an advantage...

'And at least he keeps the bluebloods at bay.'

Arturo says with a hint of a smile.

Deirdre has had little personal experience with the Ventrue.  The most she knows is the usual stereotypes and opinions handed down from sire to childe.  But she's aware enough of the classic rivalry between the two clans.  Though she's not sure she'd trade a Blue Blood for a Lunatic.  

"Well," she says, shifting in her seat.  "I had a bit o' an idea that I wanted t' throw yer way.  I'm not quite sure what th' clan's exact standin' is in the city.  But I was thinkin' perhaps of hostin' a...party... o' sorts.  Not just fer our clan, but fer the whole o' the Kindred in the city."

'That would be a great idea, both for your standing among our clan and with the rest of the city.'

Thomas tells her, almost seeming proud for a second. Deirdre has gone from throwing idle threats at the entire kindred population to wanting to host a masquerade ball of her own design... somehow Arturo doesnt suspect ill will from her. If any understands how quickly passion, even from the loss of a blood relative can be subdued and forgotten its him...

" 'Tis the season fer it anyway...wha' with Halloween comin' an' all.  Might be a bit o' a tongue-in-cheek kinda deal to host some sort o' Halloween ball.  Monsters pretendin' t' be monsters an' all.  Seems we only get t'gether fer the' bad stuff, it might be nice if we changed that a bit."  She talks a little quickly, whether out of nervousness or genuine excitement is unclear, her lyrical accent thickening.

The irony of the event is really its biggest draw. Arturo has attended events like this before, its amazing how much realer some kindred ask when they are actually wearing a mask...

'It sounds delightful. Where would you wish to host it?'

And now here's the rub.  Deirdre didn't think Arturo would be against any kind of ball or other event, after all, it's the Toreador nature.  The venue, however, might be a bit of a contention...

"Well, we'll be ready t' open Thorns up in a few weeks.  An' I was thinkin' maybe we can coincide it with th' grand re-openin'.  I d'nae think there's a more fittin' place in Sanfield fer it.  An' Harry just found out the whole rest o' the buildin' is more 'r less unclaimed...we're lookin' int' buyin' 'r rentin' 'r wha'e'er.  But we could use it at least fer that night as well...if some folk need a little private time so t' speak."  Deirdre knows it might be asking a little much to throw Thorns in the middle of this.  Hosting an event such as this would surely cement the little club in the center of Kindred politics.  But the opportunity is unlikely to ever occur again, and it's far too good to pass up.

Arturo cant be the one to tell her no here. He knows where her club is, hes heard all about the shitty neighborhood and run down building. He can see it now, Toreador holds a huge masquerade party; noone shows up...

'Well, i understand why you would want to gather everyone in your little club there are a few things to address before you can name it as the venue.'

Arturo decides to be helpful, rather than just shooting her down. If she can get a few things to happen she may be able to pull it off...

'Security would be a big issue. Especially if you expect any of the upper crust to attend.'

Arturo knows for her party to do anything for her, or the clan, at least some measure of important attention has to be paid it.

'You should speak with the keeper of Elysium and see if she can convince our Prince to declare the place elysium for the evening. Then the sheriff and keeper would be in charge of keeping the area secure...'

Deirdre recalls Bellisa at the previous Elysium, and her mental note to pay the woman a respectful visit in any case.  She nods to Arturo.  "I already ha' tha' in mind.  Fact was, I was plannin' on seein' Bellisa anyway soon.  The club is a small 'nough space, an' I d'nae think it 'twould be too difficult t' arrange security.  If'n the Keeper is willin' t' help."  She also has Kyle and Slater, for what they're worth, and while she hasn't even mentioned the idea of this party to them, they've already offered to help her clean up the neighborhood in any case.

Arturo nods, not about to reveal he is headed over to see Bellisa later this evening anyway. He will let her take care of her own buisness.

'And if your club isnt found suitable, for whatever reason, do you have a reserve location?'

2008-10-20 12:31:31 Thomas Arturo rolls 6 dice to Charisma+ subterfuge 9,4,6,10,6, 9 (5 successes)
Arturo seems to just be playing devils advocate. Watching out for conditions out of their control. After all, if court is any indication, any venue choice will never please everybody.

"I'm not sure as yet.  I can talk wi' Bellisa 'bout that I 'spose.  Somewhere suitably atmospheric fer the season.  Know of any haunted houses?  An' by the way, d'ye happen t' know where Bellisa hangs around?"

Something about that idea clicks for Arturo.

'Actually i do. Theres a place that closed down some sixty years ago. The Red Eye Theatre. As far as i know its haunted as anything gets. Rumor has it even Beauty refuses to set foot there... and all three restoration buisnesses thath ave looked at it have given up.'

Arturo writes down some addresses, one for the red eye threatre in the slums, the second for a club called The Banshee in the industrial district.  

--Last edited by Radiationjunkie on 2008-10-20 16:33:22 --