Howard & Gasp have a bite Options

[Aryn]

The brujah's heavy boots echoed hollow against the imported marble tile. Her aggressive strides pounding her path, treading slivers of broken crystal and skittering fallen silver as she marched through the labryinth of skattered tables and overturned chairs.


Aryn's face and stature showed a tempest of anger and a skowl of irritation as she began to storm away from the posturing ventrue. It took all her control not to give in to her base instincts. '...but it would be soo satisfying to crack the fickle bastards skull into the masonry...'


But now was not the time to employ barbarous 'negotiations', the Sheriff was playing her unrefined gift of tact and manipulation. Gambling that on the presumptious bluebloods curiousity and pride. She had cast the lure, and as the brujah heard the hurried steps and stuttering words from behind her, it was time to set the hook.


"Sheriff, wait." Howard called to her as he quickly came up to her. Aryn stopped suddenly, whipping around to come face to face with the kindred. His arm half raised as if he was going to physically stop her and thought better of it. 'Good thing that he didn't, I would have flattened him without a thought.'

Aryn's abrupt halt had forced the flustered ventrue to almost collide with her, though he had gracefully stopped within inches so that the pair didn't end up in an undignified heap on the floor. The brujah could see that the man was hurriedly trying to regain his composure as he continued.

His voice low, Howard said: "Sheriff, I want to help with the Sabbat problem we have in this city. Like I did in Seattle."


The sheriff's eyes bore into the ventrue's as she drew out the tense moment. Letting Howard stew in the heavy silence. In a low growlig response, she answered. "Then fuckin' help...Can the attitude. This isn't about the court nor are either of us Harpies. You may sneer at our approach but cold hard facts is that us Bru' get shite done. In my business actions speak louder then words. You wanna help...Well den, it's time ya learn to get dirty."

As the exclamation of her statement the Sheriff slapped a business card against his satin lapel. Spinning on her heels, Aryn called over her shoulder. "Don't be late."

[Necrom]

Howard didn't agree that "Bru' get shite done", as he found the entire clan to be incredibly disorganised. A bunch of individuals each doing their own thing (& to hell with everything else), but now was hardly the time to voice such an opinion. He was also slightly surprised by the "dirty" comment, which perhaps showed maybe the Sheriff wasn't as knowledgable about his past as she led him to believe. That, or she was holding onto the sterotype of his clan being "prissy". No matter, he was content for Aryn to believe as she wished.

Howard took the card & opened his mouth to speak, but the Brujah's back was already to him. He closed it again as he watched her leave. After Aryn had gone, Howard turned & looked at the mess around him. He noted the staff were trained well enough to not pause from the cleanup & eavesdrop when the 2 Kindred had their little confrontation at the door.

Seeing that Christian had still not returned from the back, Howard read the card as he walked out the door. Outside, he glanced at the bullethole that had just missed him, then at the alley that Sabbat scum had fled into. Finally, Howard returned to his car. Muttering "What a night." to himself, he drove back to his haven.