Adam "Fausto" Smith: He arrives about
an hour after he gets Karlos' message inviting him to visit, carrying a paper
bag loaded with thai food, single-malt scotch, and a carton of Gudang Garm clove
Adam "Fausto" Smith: HE's still dressed in his dapper, clearly mobster-stlye suit, with the dark brown leather trench over it.
Karlos Basoalto: He lets Fausto in the back, glancing to the food, smiling at seeing it. "Glad you could make it."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He smiles, but it's got that glittering edge to it. Like a shard of glass. "Thought you might be hungry."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods. "Yeah. Very much so." He leads Adam through to the hall. "You want coffee?"
Adam "Fausto" Smith: "Sure."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He follows him through the hallway, glancing around, tasting the air.
Karlos Basoalto: He nods and heads through to the kitchen, fetching coffee, plates and cutlery, returning after a couple of minutes and setting everything down. "Sorry. Only have instant at the moment."
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: A knock comes at the front door....three quick raps.
Karlos Basoalto: He tilts his head,
glancing to Adam. "You invite Kris over?"
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He shakes his head. "No." He moves back into the hallway and up to the front security room, checking on the monitors to see who's out front.
Karlos Basoalto: He steals a sip of his coffee, then follows Adam through, frowning. "Maybe it's Damon."
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: The man at the door is Latino, fairly attractive, dressed in a black button-down shirt with a leather jacket over it. His age could be estimated to be in his early 30ís. His hair is pulled back in a ponytail that brushes the nape of his neck, and his goatee is very well-trimmed. With his excellent posture, thin smile, and urbane manner of speaking, he carries an air of civility, barely hiding a predatory look, deep within his eyes. Behind him, to his left, is a younger man, maybe 25, with unkempt hair, wearing a wind-breaker over an old, dirty Christian Death t-shirt and a pair of equally dirty jeans. They're waiting patiently, the Latino man staring at the door, and the other one looking all around, like he's checking the place out.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: "Who the fuck is Damon?" He zooms the cam covering the front door in.
Karlos Basoalto: He glances to Adam. "Siren's envoy?" He leans in, watching the figures on the camera. "Neither of those are him."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: His jaw pulses, and it's clear he's finding this to be the capper on an absolutely shitty week. He sighs, and toggles the mic for the intercom. "The Concerto is closed at the moment, please state your name and business?"
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: ((Jeremy smacks self. Just the younger guy in the X-ian Death t-shirt shows up))
Karlos Basoalto: (( ... ))
Karlos Basoalto: "That isn't him." ((*corrects prior post*))
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: A voice speaks, a deep baritone with a friendly-enough manner. "Alejandro Delgado and associate, to speak with Karlos Basoalto."
Karlos Basoalto: He frowns, glancing to
Adam. "Sabbat," he mouths silently, eyebrows lifting in a question.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He lets go of the toggle, then frowns to Karlos. "Fucking vampires don't show up on camera. No telling how many are out there."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He toggles the mic
on again. "One moment, please."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods slightly. "JJ was Delgado's bitch, wasn't he?" Tilts his head.
Karlos Basoalto: ((*slams brakes on* Karlos wouldn't say that while the mic is active))
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: "Of course."
Karlos Basoalto: ((*says that last thing there while mic is off*))
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: ((*NOD* No prob))
Adam "Fausto" Smith: ((*posts slower
having been suitably chastised.*))
Karlos Basoalto: ((*G*))
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He nods to Karlos, brow furrowing as he does his best to plot out teh best course.
Karlos Basoalto: ((not TOO slow mind you :-P))
Karlos Basoalto: "Think I should talk to them? See what they want?"
Adam "Fausto" Smith: With the mic off,
he checks all the other cameras and various security data, making sure there's
no breach. "You want to talk to him?"
Karlos Basoalto: He nods a little and leans past Adam, tapping the intercom. "This is Mr. Basoalto speaking. What may I do for you?"
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: Outside, the lone visible individual looks toward the door and leans in, as if listening to something. He nods, and takes a single step back.
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: "Ah, Karlos. I'd like to discuss the unfortunate situation that happened not long ago. May I come in?"
Karlos Basoalto: "One moment." Off with the intercom, and he glances at Adam. "Did you contact them about a tribunal?"
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He shakes his head. "No, but if they want to negotiate, they'd come here, rather than make our guys go to them, where they'd be in a much better position to attack."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods. Taps the intercom. "Please wait, and we'll come open the door for you."
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: "Of course. Thank you."
Karlos Basoalto: He switches it off
again and nods to Fausto. "You want to stay here?" Meaning the office.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He waits for the mic to toggle off and scowls. "Fuck Karlos, I don't want to be seen here with you."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods. "So stay in here. Lock yourself in. Or head into the tunnel..."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: "Fuck!" He snarls and starts taking his clothes off, stripping down to his boxers. "I fucking hate you people and all the fucking trouble you put me through by not fucking following directions!"
Adam "Fausto" Smith: "I'll be your fucking pet, you pain in the ass."
Karlos Basoalto: He blinks. "You asked if I wanted to talk to them!"
Karlos Basoalto: "Erm..." He really
doesn't know what to say to that.
Karlos Basoalto: "Just... Stay in here. Keep an eye on me."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: "I was talking about the gay bar, dickwad." And with that, he shifts.
Karlos Basoalto: He blinks.
Karlos Basoalto: And again.
Karlos Basoalto: "You don't have a
fucking leg to stand on when it comes to the damn butterfly argument." He shakes
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He's a big specimen, with an angry, feral gaze that chills the blood, the wound on the left shoulder and front leg visible as the gauze peels away from the fur.
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn:
And outside, they continue to wait. Every time
the kid looks like he starts to get antsy, which is every few minutes,
Alejandro's voice can be heard, quiet, and the kid calms down.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He growls and waits for Karlos to clear the doorway, padding quietly after him.
Karlos Basoalto: He locks the office then heads to the door, opening it and gazing out. "I apologise for the delay. Please, come in." He steps aside politely.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He sits beside Karlos' heel, well trained. Docile.
Adam "Fausto" Smith -> Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: He's a big male lion, with a mane so dark, it's almost black.
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: And now, Karlos sees the Latino man standing in front of the kid. It's just the two of them, and Alejandro smiles to Karlos, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you. This is Ricky, my associate." He indicates the kid, who glares at Karlos, looking at him like he was nothing more then a Happy Meal on legs. Alejandro walks in, Ricky following behind, and Delgado turns to Karlos, once they're inside, waiting for directions on where to go.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: There is a wound over his shoulder that's scabbed over, and a similar won
Karlos Basoalto: He shuts the door and
leads them through to the main hall. "I'm sorry. I was just about to eat. Take a
seat, I'll clear all this away..." He collects the plates and food up in his
Adam "Fausto" Smith: ((stupid kb)) similar wound over his left foreleg, also scabbed.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: HE sniffs at their shoes boredly as they walk past, padding along behind them.
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: Delgado nods and sits down, Ricky joining him at his right after a couple extra seconds spent staring at Fausto, a sneer on his face.
Adam "Fausto" Smith -> Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: ((roll per+alert))
Karlos Basoalto: He carries it all through to the kitchen, then removes the coffee cups too, eventually returning to join them at the table, smiling pleasantly. "So. Mr. Delgado? How can I assist you?"
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: 6,9,7,3,10,
Adam "Fausto" Smith -> Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: His tawny fur ripples slightly over the whipscar that snakes down his back from left shoulder to right hip, the white fur there on his chest cowlicked over a similar whipscar. He's a bit underfed for his size and weight, ribs showing. And favors the injured leg as if it pains him.
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: Alejandro smiles congenially. "First, I would like to apologize greatly for the assault on your person. As a Bishop, I can assure you that Jonothan's attack was taken on his own, unsanctioned and even unknown to the higher leadership, rather then a concerted effort."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He remains in the main room as Karlos buses dishes, watching him curiously before lying down to lick at the wound on his foreleg.
Karlos Basoalto: He nods. "That's good to hear."
Adam "Fausto" Smith -> Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: ((oh, and the shoulder wound looks like a gunshot wound, the leg wound looks like another lion bit it it.))
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: Ricky seems almost more interested in Fausto then Karlos, looking him over with a vicious smile. Delgado, on the other hand, is focused entirely on the man at the table. "Of course, regardless, I realize this is a violation of treaty, as well as...a previous agreement. I would like to discuss reparations, if you are willing."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods again, slightly. "Certainly. I'll hear your offer..." He remains leaning forward, intrigued.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He seems quite disinterested in the others, licking his leg, then yawning and resting his chin on the ground between his forepaws, idly watching Karlos speak.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: 2,3,4,10,6,4,10,
Adam "Fausto" Smith: His tail sweeps lazily back and forth as Karlos leans forward over the table, and he lifts his head as if hoping for some kind of treat from the table.
Evil Fuzzy Ravyn: He nods. "Very well. In return for the assault on you, I am willing to compensate you a portion of what was originally paid to us for your freedom." His expression is a friendly shade of neutral. "I would also like to negotiate for the return of our compatriot, if he is still alive, which we believe is the case."
Karlos Basoalto: "I'm afraid that your compatriot may be in the hands of the Camarilla, and you know there's nothing I can do about that." He leans back. "However, financial recompense would be satisfactory. What is your offer?"
"May be? Or is?" He sits there, unmoving, leaned
back against the chair backing in the spitting image of proper posture, a small
smile curling the corners of his mouth.
Karlos Basoalto: "I can't be certain. I merely try to operate a treaty, not keep tabs on every single person in New York."
Alejandro Delgado: "Of course not. But what leads you to believe he may be in their hands?"
Karlos Basoalto: "Well if you don't have him, and I don't have him, and he's on this island, that's where I'd guess him to be, if not already destroyed." He leans back. "You aren't here for a negotiation, are you."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He makes a disappointed, whimpering groan as it becomes apparent no food is forthcoming.
Alejandro Delgado: He frowns. "Of course I am, Karlos. But, if I can be frank..." He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I have very good sources in the Camarilla, and I know they don't have him. I know further that someone who has been working to help the Camarilla uncover the death on their Prince has him. And I know that this someone is not a Cainite, but is working with the Anarchs. I also know his name."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He lowers his
head, tail flopping listlessly.
Karlos Basoalto: He tilts his head, definately intrigued now. "Really? Who is he?" He flicks his tongue stud against his teeth thoughtfully.
Alejandro Delgado: "His name, Karlos, is Fausto." He shrugs, as if the name doesn't mean that much. "Apparently, he is fond of trips in and around the harbor. Is he known to you?"
Karlos Basoalto: He shakes his head
slightly. "Sounds like someone with a literary bent." He sucks in air
thoughtfully. "If he's working with the Anarchs, I might be able to speak to
them within the confines of the treaty."
Alejandro Delgado: "So he's not one of yours?" He raises an eyebrow. "Our treaty was negotiated with yours, not with the Anarchs, Karlos. If he's not with you, we have no obligation not to hunt him down for acts against us."
Karlos Basoalto: He shrugs slightly.
"The Anarchs are also a part of the treaty, negotiated with myself. If you're
going to pay me every time you break it, then run off and break it again, you're
going to be broke very fast..."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: His eyes blink lazily, his look one of pure boredom.
Alejandro Delgado: He shakes his head, smiling a little. "Wait, Karlos. No mention of expanding our treaty to include the Anarchs was brought to my table. When the expansion of the neutral territory was brought up by Mr. DeWitt and his associate, I agreed, in order to keep the peace we've enjoyed with your people going. But you cannot suddenly decide that a treaty you have with the Anarchs also applies to us, particularly when I have ignored the fact that the Anarchs kidnapped Jonothan and tortured him for information."
Karlos Basoalto: He shakes his head,
waving a hand a little. "No, no. We're getting ahead of ourselves. What I am
saying is that I cannot intercede with the Anarchs on your behalf. Of course you
are able to take direct action against them - there is nothing I can do to
Karlos Basoalto: "However, should you wish it, I can certainly attept to ~speak~ to the Anarchs to determine whether or not they have your comrade, using the treaty as a starting point."
Alejandro Delgado: He nods. "I understand. So, again I ask you. Is this Fausto one of yours? Or should I assume that by working with the Anarchs, he is one of theirs?"
Karlos Basoalto: "You say that he's
working with the Anarchs ~and~ the Camarilla." He lifts an eyebrow, glancing to
the lion and adding "No. No treats." Spreads his hands to show they are empty.
Karlos Basoalto: 2,1,7,4,6,3,5,
Alejandro Delgado: He nods. "Quite possibly. Definately the Anarchs. And, as he seems to be looking into the death of the Camarilla's prince..." He shrugs a little, letting the sentence trail off.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He's already
decided there's no treats and doesn't bother to lift his head, just watching
what unfolds lazily.
Karlos Basoalto: He ponders, then makes a grunting sound.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He grunts, licking his wound again.
Alejandro Delgado: He remains quiet as he leans back, his eyes focused on Karlos. While his stance is relaxed and polite, his gaze is direct, kept fixed on Karlos's eyes, scanning for any deviation that might give something away. It's an unnerving gaze, almost predatory.
Karlos Basoalto: He pets the critter gently on the head, then sits up again, gazing at Delgado. "I can't dictate policy to you, Mr. Delgado. If you do not wish me to negotiate with them on your behalf, then do as you see fit."
He nods to that, smiling. "With all due respect,
Karlos, it's a Cainite matter. I would prefer to...negotiate with them directly.
If you could merely set up a meeting with them, that would be all I require."
Karlos Basoalto: "I believe that me doing that would be beyond the boundaries of the treaty."
Alejandro Delgado: He nods. "I see. Could you then deliver a simple message? Not one that would be luring them into anything, mind you. I would very much like to see my compatriot returned, and an ambush does not resolve that."
Karlos Basoalto: He inclines his head.
"I believe I am certainly able to advise them that you would like him returned
to you, but I'm afraid that beyond that, it is indeed as you have already stated
a Cainite matter."
Alejandro Delgado: He nods. "Excellent. I have someone they might want--a ghoul, to be specific--that I would offer in trade."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods. "Who would that be?"
Alejandro Delgado: "Mr. Thompson." He smiles a little. "I'm sure they'll understand."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods. "Very well. I
shall pass the message along."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He lays his head down, bored again.
Alejandro Delgado: He inclines his head gratefully. "Thank you. Now, as for recompensation. It is my understanding that ten million dollars was paid for your freedom. As this was an unfortunate incident that had the Bishops neither the knowledge of, nor the sanction of, I feel that a sum of one-point-five million would be fair. Do you agree?"
Karlos Basoalto: "The price paid for my
freedom was twenty million dollars, and technically I did not actually belong to
anyone at the time anyway. It was a purely goodwill payment. I will accept ten
million as recompense."
Alejandro Delgado: He shakes his head. "I hate to quibble, but ten million was paid for your freedom. Twenty for the unfortunate situation involving your domitor's death, and ten for your restoration. Neither the situation around your domitor's death nor your restoration has been compromised in any way."
Karlos Basoalto: He chuckles gently. "Quibble away. That's why it's called 'negotiation', after all." He regards Delgado. "But this isn't about my freedom. This is about the treaty. I'll consider seven million, most of which will go to funding the Concerto to ensure that it is able to remain as independent as it is at present."
Alejandro Delgado: He chuckles. "For that price, Karlos, I could buy a good piece of the Concerto, I imagine. Or obtain peace in other ways." He looks directly at him, eyes flashing. "Four million."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods. "Perhaps you
could. But this isn't really about the money. This is about setting a precedent.
After all, if it becomes known that the treaty can be bought for a measly four
million dollars, everyone will be crashing through it, and it will become
meaningless. Six point five million, Delgado."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: (Just a note, I need to leave for class in about 15-20))
Karlos Basoalto: ((Okies. I'll need to sleep about then, so it works out))
Alejandro Delgado: He considers for a moment. "For six-point-five, I want one more assurance. That neither you nor any of yours will become involved in any way in matters relating to the Sabbat and the Camarilla. And that those who do otherwise will be considered in breach of the treaty." He shrugs. "Otherwise, I will consider five-point-five acceptable."
Alejandro Delgado: ((Cool))
Karlos Basoalto: He shrugs. "If the
Camarilla wish to enter into the treaty, they will come to the table. Until that
point the treaty with the Anarchs and yourselves prevents me taking any action
whatsoever against either of you, or meddling in your affairs. If you do not
believe that to be enough, then it is not enough, and I will settle for six
million. I will not have my integrity questioned in this manner."
Alejandro Delgado: He nods. "Six it is, then. I will need an account to wire it too, unless you have another way you wish it delivered."
Karlos Basoalto: He shakes his head. "Leave me a cellphone number. I will text you the account details in a week's time."
Alejandro Delgado: He nods, retrieving a small flip spiral notebook from the inside of his pocket and writing a number down on it. "You may contact my agent at this number, day or night. He will arrange the transfer for me." He takes the page out of the notebook and leans across the table, placing it at the midway mark.
Karlos Basoalto: He leans forward,
slipping his fingers over the paper to withdraw it across the table, and nods
slightly as he does so. "Thank you."
Alejandro Delgado: He nods. "Of course. Again, my apologies for the incident. It will not occur again."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He looks up as they all move, the small tufts of whiskers over his eyes waggling a bit as he searches for any indication food is forthcoming.
Karlos Basoalto: He sits back, regarding Delgado. "Then hopefully we can soon have this incident behind us, and return to the status quo." He smiles warmly.
Alejandro Delgado: He smiles. "That is my hope as well. Well, Karlos, if there is nothing more that needs to be discussed, I must be off. Thank you for your time."
Karlos Basoalto: He nods and rises to his feet, gesturing to the door before leading them to it. "Thank you for coming to me. Your support for the treaty is one of the key factors in its existence." He smiles to them as he opens the door, and offers Delgado his hand.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He pads along
hopefully behind them after sniffing the table to make sure nothing edible was
Alejandro Delgado: They follow behind, Ricky throwing a last, challenging glance to Fausto before following. AT the door, Alejandro nods his head, and takes Karlos's hand, shaking it. "I'm glad to support it. It has done great favors to both our kind. Good evening."
Karlos Basoalto: He returns the
handshake happily, smiling. "And do you also."
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He doesn't seem to notice Ricky's glare, too busy sniffing the ground along their path for any dropped tidbits.
Alejandro Delgado: He smiles to Karlos, and turns, leaving. Ricky follows behind, and they head off, turning north, toward Midtown.
Karlos Basoalto: He closes the door, saying nothing. Glancing to Fausto, then grunting.
Adam "Fausto" Smith: 6,9,3,8,4,1,4,
Adam "Fausto" Smith: He snorts, chuffing out the dust from his nose and shaking his big head, moving past Karlos and heading for the security office.
Karlos Basoalto: He nods and follows
him, unlocking the door.
Karlos Basoalto: ((And I must collapse unconscius))
Karlos Basoalto: ((unconscious))
Adam "Fausto" Smith: ((okies, he gets dressed and otherthings happen later))
Adam "Fausto" Smith: (thanks for the RP))
: ((You too :) ))
Alejandro Delgado: ((And I'm outtie as well...TT game calls. See ya guys!))