Another Round (McKay) - Dragon's Lair

He listened, silently. His eyes were narrowed as he seemed to be contemplating the details brought before him, and weighing the options as they were. "I'll see what I can do for gettin' tha answer from the girl, but she's kinda shy. So she likely won't talk ta you, but she'll talk ta me."

He paused, rubbing his jawline. "I'm already takin' care of tha girl. It's my house that tha protection needs ta be on. She's stayin' with me for tha foreseeable future. As for discussions of my ... bloodline ... more than happy ta talk about it, though I'm not entirely certain what you're referrin' to with it. I ain't exactly shy about talkin'."

He smiled and gave a shrug of his shoulder. "Which reminds me. I got this Fallen/demon/angel-thing that seems ta be able ta walk right through tha circle ward that tha previous owner of tha house put up. Would either of ya have suggestions on that? Sorry I didn't ask before, it was that tha talkin' reminded me of it."

He looked to Anton for a moment before turning back to McKay. "Are you referring to the individual that abducted Covington," the notable exclusion of 'Mister' from someone so concerned with etiquette. "From the same domicile?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm referring to this Markus Jacobs guy who's following Greer and Cassiel around, wantin' ta have faith or some such thing. He kinda just appeared in my living room, even though I had a ward against demons up."

Another shrug. "I imagine they can simply be summarily executed for what they are whenever they enter your domain's boundaries. Eventually they should get the point through their damaged metaphysical brains that they are not welcome nor will they accomplish anything. One of our number can simply monitor the region to watch for any such possessions following the death of a prior host. Hosts are as soft as they were before the intrusion, and as such vulnerable to any-and-every thing that would normally harm them. Especially if taken by surprise. While I would be remiss to bring their attention directly upon myself, if their actual names were obtained Nature itself could be turned upon them. In theory, it should strike at them regardless of what unfortunate they inhabit. The death of the Infernal is something that near every one of our kind opposes, truly. Except the despicable Baali, of course. But last I heard, they should be all dead... not that the cockroaches haven't risen from such claims before."

His brows went up. "An' what kinda price would such monitorin' bring my way?"

He shook his head. "It is the duty of all to combat the infernal, Mister McKay, else we are as bad as those that worship them. I will monitor what I am able, and if their actual names become available, will do what I can to exact lasting harm upon them."

He nodded. "Sounds fair enough ta me. When does your sire wanna meet up ta discuss things with me?"

"At your convenience, of course, though discussions should conclude within a fortnight. I believe that should give you sufficient time to find availability within your schedule?"

He glanced at the watch on his wrist. "I got time now, if he's up for it."

He looked directly upwards, as if to consult the sky itself, before returning to look at McKay.

"Unfortunately, it appears he begun combat in Mexico City twenty minutes ago. I believe he will be available roughly a half hour, however, if you like?"

He nodded. "I dedicated tha night tonight ta this. So I've got plenty of time."

SQUIGGLY TIME FAST FORWARD LINES BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO ROLE PLAY A HALF HOUR OF INANE CHATTER!


Look at those, aren't they sweet?

Without a word, he rose from his chair and moved to the back and left of it.

He arrived with little fanfare, not even the gust of wind that his childer had arrived with. He simply came into being in his inhuman presence (Wheee Appearance 9) in the seat that was vacated moments before his arrival. Apparently showing up where they were expected was their thing. Or something.

After an awkward half-moment, he spoke up.

"Sire, it is my pleasure to introduce you to James McKay of Troile's lineage," he gestured from one to the next. "James McKay, allow me to introduce to you Charnabon of the Tzimisce, former ruler of the Getae."

Whoa. Just whoa. The man was prettier than he had expected. A lot prettier. Enough that he had a Toreador moment. Okay, a few Toreador moments ... It was the voice of Dromichaetes that snapped him back to his manners. He rose from his chair and offered the man a bow. "It's a pleasure ta meet ya."

He inclined his head on a half-nod, dead eyes remaining on the Brujah. "The pleasure is mine, Mister McKay, to meet one lauded by many as a true inheritor to your lineage's name."

He took his seat after the bow was done and lifted a brow at the newcomer. "Eh? I'm afraid I ain't much on keepin' track of my reputation or rumors, sir." He was polite, anyway. "What can I do for ya, this evenin'?"

"I am curious what you know of your.. clan's inception. The history of it, what came before, and the like." It was a ... question? Statement?

He quirked a brow, but started to speak. It was actually a while before he finished, since he was well-schooled in his Clan's knowledge. Normally, people seemed to frown on sharing such a thing, but McKay? No problem giving this guy the skinny. Why? Because people were too damned uptight about history, that's why. ((Brujah Lore 1-5))

After he had finally finished, he raised a single question at first. "And your feelings regarding what are oft referred to as the True Brujah?"

His brow quirked upward. "Don't really know enough about 'em ta form an opinion, truth be told."

And so it became his turn to give a lengthy explanaition of the rise and abrupt fall of the original clan that gave the Brujah the 'promethean' moniker. He spared no details in its explanaition, paying special attention to the actions of Troile against his sire, Brujah. ( True Brujah Lore 1-5 ) The only things that were expertly avoided were their current activities and their 'large' population within the True Hand. Many comparisons were drawn between their feelings on matters and McKay's own feelings, paying a great deal of attention to similarities on the previously mentioned succession of role that McKay could embody, and the possibility of his rejoining the clan name's actual population.

Which brought rise to two questions from the large Brujah. The first being: "But I actually like bein' able ta feel things." And the second, but more imporant of the two: "I ain't ever heard of anybody bein' able ta switch clans an' all that. So unless you're talkin' about 'honorary membership' to it, as nice as it may seem, don't seem all that possible."

He shook his head once. "The effort of resisting frenzy in Troile's lineage shifts to an effort to resist being manipulated by their emotions in Brujah's lineage. Emotion is simply an extension of opinion, and one can never be without opinion, Mister McKay. Griselda Mackenzie was equally unbelieving when the suggestion of a return to mortality and subsequent embrace to a deserving lineage arose."