Anjou: ((*L* Alec-p, my have boob on the brain tonight! *impish grin*))

Alec Golden: *blinks at her and chuckles softly* I do Ita. Anjou is a very close friend. But not a lover.

Alec Golden: ((TONIGHT? *snickers* EVERY NIGHT.))

Anjou: *chuckles softly and shurs* i try to stay as close to human as i can....i wasn't given all that much choice in the matter. which is common enough...*chuckles softly* your dogs are such sweethearts. i'd love to pet them sometime again, perhaps toss a stick for fetch or the like.

Alec Golden: ((*looks down* See..aren't th...penis? Awwww dammit...I changed skin again.))

Anjou: *giggles impishly and nods* yes, we aren't lovers. ((*chortles and snugs*))

Ita McNairee: ..aye.. mayhaps love.. ah reckon they'd like tha awfie.. *she makes note of the door, shades flickering in the light. she hadn't asked anything about..lovers.. * say wha ye wan tae see me aboot lovies?

Anjou: ((*howls with laughter*))

Alec Golden: Thought I would offer you a drink. *smiles* Benefits of owning the place, I can give out free booze at will. Plus, I like your company.

Anjou: *grisn, delighted* wonderful! i hope soon! *manages to keep from bouncing up and down like an eager child* you should meet my cat sometime, Ita. but make sure you're garbed for it, first...*slants Alec an impish grin*

Alec Golden: ((Damn pikey speak makin da Feens brain hurt))

Ita McNairee: och aye.. *she tilts her head, a dog regarding a snake in the grass, giving him the gypsy eyeball from behind those ridiculous shades* Aulrecht.... Ah dinnae... drenk.

Alec Golden: *sighs and shakes head at Anjou* She'd need platemail.

: ((Pikey speak makes everyone's brains hurt. Even mine, at times, and I'm USED to it. *G*))

Ita McNairee: och.. nae cats.. had a cat wance.. foken theng jes gaw me entae trouble. dinnae like em *scowls angrilly.. smashed.. shot.. tortured.. all looking for that BITCH of a cat*

Alec Golden: *shrugs slightly* Some do, some don't. I thought I would offer. *cocks a head* You okay Ita? You seem, different than last time.

Ita McNairee: (silence reddy!)

Anjou: *giggles at Alec* well...maybe i could dope him up and stuff him into his carrier...then she'd stand a chance of not getting mauled, right? *grins at Ita* my darling Bandicoot is a mean old fugly mess of a cat.

Alec Golden: ((Pike speak HARD to muddle through.))

: ((Ah, no, Chum. You've provoked me. Time for...EVYL.))

Alec Golden: *slight frown at the pikey, head cocked as he contemplates*

Ita McNairee: mm. naethen personal loves... but ah reckon ye run tha cammie-backbiter. *she offers up a warm crooked grin* Ah dinae. Sae ah figure ets best tae keep me toes prepped fer dashen, aye?

Ita McNairee: (no!! no evyl!!!!! *laughs*))

Anjou: *laughs softly* oh, i'm not offering to ~give~ him to you. just to let you meet him, since you let me meet your dogs. *her eyes soften* i adore that grumpy cuss. i really do.

Alec Golden: ((WOOOOOT!))

Anjou: *wrinkles her nose cheerfully at Ita* nah, if Alec had wanted to trap you, he'd've had a passle of his people follow you up here and stuff. or made sure someone a great deal tougher than i am were here. *wry grin*

Steven Thompson: He walks in after paying the cover, a man in his mid-to-late 20's. He looks fairly scruffy, in that "I can't be bothered with shaving" kind of way. His hair ends midway down his neck, and is a dirty blonde. He's dressed in a military jacket over a black turtleneck and matching cargo pants. He takes the scene in, a slight tension to his pasture and wariness to his eyes.

Alec Golden: *blinks at her and then sighs* Ah...I see. No need to be afraid of me Ita, I won't do anything to you that I would not want done to me. *walks over to lean against his desk, further increasing the distance between them* Is that better? *quirks a brow though he seems a little...sad perhaps*

Steven Thompson -> Steven Thompson: 6,8,4,4,

Steven Thompson -> Steven Thompson: 5,9,1,4,8,

Alec Golden: ((mind fooked. *snickers*)) *shakes his head sadly at her* I'll not mind fuck you Ita. I have no reason to. *turns and walks to the wall of glass overlooking his club*

Steven Thompson -> Steven Thompson: 9,7,5,8,6,

Anjou: *watches him look to the glass, and gives Ita a faintly reproachful look.....rises herself and wanders over to stand beside him quietly*

Ita McNairee: nae dinnae reckon ah care tae mooch aboot tha.. ah'm jes sayen loves. ye asked mind? *she trundles up to touch the mans elbow* aye?

Alec Golden: *nice crowd, lots of green, plenty of booze flowing...good, all good*

Alec Golden: 2,3,1,9,8,7,8,

Ita McNairee: 7,5,4,4,

Anjou: *drat! no green on her person.....inward sigh--going to be pinches for sure*

Ita McNairee: *woah.. people. she looks through the glass, cocking her heda. she hadn't seen this when she walked in!*

Alec Golden: *nods* I appreciate the honesty Ita. I really do. *takes note of the overly tense guy at the bar, must be a newbie* It beats the usual bullshit runaround I get.

Steven Thompson -> Alec Golden: Alec could have sworn, for just an instant, that Steven and his eyes met. And not just as a random connection. It's as if he knows someone's up there, watching him.

Ita McNairee: good. glad we're sorted. *nods with a smile up to him* hoow come ah dindae see ye when ah walked en here loves.. thes es a Huuuge windy ye kain?!

Ita McNairee: (didnae)

Alec Golden: *blinks and stares at the man No fuckin way, the would blind him...I must be paranoid.*

Anjou: *grins at Ita as she slips an arm around Alec's waist. it really is kind of neat to see peole from this vantage, and know that they can't see her*

Alec Golden: Lights. Underneath and above. Anyone who looks up will get blinded and not see past them. *blinks and watches the man* Or they should.....*pensive frown*

Steven Thompson: He smirks a little at something, and goes back to drinking his scotch.

Anjou: what's wrong, dear? *looks up at Alec*

Ita McNairee: Wha's tha matter loves? *she looks down into the crowd touching the glass with clammy fingers*

Ita McNairee: 7,3,5,6,

Ita McNairee -> Steven Thompson: enough to see her favorite belly blasting budy?)

Alec Golden: *that's it, fuck, gotta know* Okay, this'll drive me crazy. I'll be right back. *leans over to kiss Anjou on the cheek gently* Keep watch on me angel? *winks at her and turns to Ita* Be right back lovey. Got an itch I cannot scratch and need to find out. *winks* Be good. *slips out of Anjou's arm and heads for the office door*

Steven Thompson -> Ita McNairee: ((Yeah. *S*))

Anjou: angel? humph! *chuckles softly and calmly snags a chair so she can watch comfortably.....her eyes lockign then on where he should come into view...hopefully*

Alec Golden: *he takes the steps two at a time and hits the one way door, slipping through and heading to the bar, stepping up next to the man and looking at the tender* Brad. Usual.

Ita McNairee: OCH! AH've a friend doown there.. ah'm coomen wie ye aye? *she gives him a grin, scampering down the stairs with a clatter*

Cass Blackwell: He walks to the door and shows his I.D., pays the cover charge, and gets his bracelet. He walks in, looking around.

Alec Golden: *turns those baby blues on the man* Evenin. *grins*

Ita McNairee: *apparently they'll heading towards the same man.. ita grining warmly, hand slipped in fromt of her palms up as she approaches Stephan* Allo loves.

Cass Blackwell: He is a strikingly handsome man of about 23, moving with practiced grace, using his trim, athletic frame to its best advantage. His thick black hair enhances a tan, lean face with a strong jaw and captivating dark eyes, set beneath midnight brows, fringed with lashes longer than a man should have. His lips are full and sensual, offsetting the masculine chin.

Anjou: *sigh wistfully and ponders...then shrugs and heads down after them. boring to sit up here alone! politely moves the chair back into place first*

Steven Thompson: He finishes the last of his scotch and pulls a cigarette out, placing it between his lips. He doesn't give any reaction to Alec coming up next to him.

Cass Blackwell: 7,8,7,7,3,

Steven Thompson: 4,1,6,2,9,

Cass Blackwell: He finally finds who he's looking for at the bar, but as Alec is busy, Cass makes only brief eye contact if possible, then takes a seat at the bar and politely orders a small rum-and-coke.

Steven Thompson: ((Ita & Alec can roll Per+Alert))

Alec Golden: 5,3,2,10,9,8,6,

Ita McNairee: 7,7,4,3,

Alec Golden: ((GO ALEC! *L*))

Anjou: *tries to avoid too many pinches as she works her way to the bar, coming up after Ita and Cass*

Cass Blackwell: He idly watches the crowd, and Alec from time to time, but is content where he is. Sips his drink, nursing it.

Alec Golden: *flicks his gaze to Cass and offers a quick nod before turning back to Steven*

Steven Thompson: Alec & Ita both notice Steven casually and quietly put his right hand, the hand nearest Alec, into his jacket pocket. He looks at Alec. "Evenin'..." And upon hearing Ita, he blinks, turning his head. "" He seems surprised by her appearance, and further wariness creeps into his eyes, his posture stiffening a little.

Alec Golden: *eyes flick down to the hand then back to Steven* You okay man? *grins* She (meaning the club) can be a bit intimidating, but you are perfectly safe. Just stay out of the mosh pit yeah?

Ita McNairee: * a soft noise at the smoke as ita perches on a stool beside him, murmering warmly* Aye loves.. twas woorried aboot ye.. aye? *she lays her hands on her lap, upturned*

Cass Blackwell: ~siiiip~

Anjou: *squirms her way to the bar, weaseling in next to Alec and giving Brad a warm smile as she perches on a stool*

Steven Thompson: He looks from Ita on one side of him to Alec on the other, and he steps away from the bar...not panicked, but with some small amount of speed, looking from one to the other. He finally rests his eyes on Ita. "Yeah, I'll bet you were." He shakes his head. "Fuckin' figures...I shoulda known."

Aisling McCool: A bubbly bouncy young woman slips into the club and trips her way past the bouncer with a playful wink. She's a curvy young thing, bordering on plump with a sweet, cherub cheeked face framed 'round by hip length honey blond and copper curls. Her ample curves are poured into a snuggly fitted white t-shirt with the word "Dream" written across her breasts in bright, sparkly purple. The hem falls just shy of her snug, hip hugging jeans, leaving a little roll of tummy visible to the eye. Piles of silver necklaces spill from her neck, a few odd pendents here and there with a heavy pentacle claiming pride of place between her full breasts.

Anjou: *blinkis at the stranger in some surprise, canting her head lightly. and not looking at Alec*

Alec Golden: *frowns at the mans actions* What's the problem friend? It's all good ya know?

Ita McNairee: *she frowns slightly, looking at the man in puzzlement.* Loves? Ye aulrecht.. wha's thes than? *she slips off her stool and moves towards him, carefully slow, she looks to Alec* Dinnae bother tha lad loves,, ee's a jumpy sort

Cass Blackwell: 7,8,5,5,5,

Aisling McCool: 4,9,5,2,5,4,

Aisling McCool: Seeing one of her favorite bartenders, she threads her way through the crowd towards the bar, the press of people enough to keep her almost firmly on her feet.

Alec Golden: *quirks a brow at Ita then glances back to the man, is she REALLY trying to tell him what to do in his own club, I do not think so*

Cass Blackwell: OOC> Shoot, wrong roll. I've been shortchanging my alertness roll!

Cass Blackwell: 7,6,6,5,5,8,

Cass Blackwell: He keeps the scene in his peripheral vision out of curiousity, perceiving no immediate danger to himself.

Ita McNairee: *her hands stay out in front of her, a little odd as she jingles closer uncertaintly*

Steven Thompson: He looks at Ita, shaking his head. "Back off, Ita. Despite what you are, I don't completely hate you. I'd hate to have to change that opinion."

Alec Golden: *motherfucker got his hand in his pocket and is actin twitchy, he has Alec's FULL attention*

Aisling McCool: "Diet, please," she chirps, settling in at the bar, her smile winsome.

Alec Golden: *frowns at Steven* Look man. *offers his right hand to the man* Name's Alec. Let's just stay cool and talk. Somethin seems to be buggin the shit outta you.

Steven Thompson: He looks at Alec. "And it'll be 'all good' when I get Anne back. Unless it's too late, in which case, it won't be all good. Trust me." He alters his path, slipping around Ita and back to the bar, keeping the pikey between him and Alec.

Anjou -> Steven Thompson: ((if permitted, rolling for Auspex.))

Alec Golden: And who exactly is Anne? And more importantly, who exactly are you?

Steven Thompson -> Anjou: ((Go ahead.))

Ita McNairee: but loves.. ah've questions ah've tae ask ye.. *she murmers plainly* wans a reckon only YE can answer aye? Ye kain AH'll nae haram ye.. ah thought we tae were good wie each ether.. oor, at least nae quarrellen like thes? oo's Anne darlin. mayhaps ah can elp ye? *she looks to Alec with a distinct frown* Alec.. jes leave tha lad alone aye?

Anjou: *continues to watch the weird guy, leaning onto the bartop a little bit so she can see around Alec and Ita better*

Aisling McCool: She asks the tender a question then flicks her eyes around, waving to Alec and Anjou before blowing them each a little kiss.

Anjou: 6,4,10,4,10,7,1,

Ita McNairee: *she's quite dutifully positioned between alec and steven*

Alec Golden: *and the pikeys words roll off him like water off a ducks back, his club, his rules, his way, or get the fuck out*

Steven Thompson: "Anne. Young girl. Ita's height. Skinny. Likes Doc Martins, black lace, white-face, and eyeliner. She was here, couple nights ago. I'm sure you know who I mean." All this directed at Alec.

Alec Golden: *frowns at this, the name and description do NOT ring a bell* No, but I will look into it. And who are you?

Steven Thompson -> Anjou: ((Human.))

Anjou -> Steven Thompson: ((*nods* thanks.))

Ita McNairee: *she bites her lip worriedly, looking to steven and clucking to herself like a mother hen, then back to Alec*

Anjou -> Steven Thompson: ((question. how closely do Anne and the girl who got killed in the alley a few nights ago match by description?))

Steven Thompson: He sneers a little around Ita, at Alec. "How about this, clanboy? She likes straight-razors and dart guns."

Steven Thompson -> Anjou: ((To a tee, pretty much.))

Aisling McCool: 3,7,2,4,5,5,

Anjou: *stiffens, trying to keep her face straight*

Alec Golden: *quirks a brow* You seem to think I associate with a very interesting crowd. Now, who the hell are you? *eyes bore straight into Steven's skull*

Aisling McCool: She frowns a bit, eyes narrowing as she scans the crowd for Alec's exact location.

Cass Blackwell: He fidgets a little. Tension is rising. Maybe not the best place to be.

Ita McNairee: LAd. be carefy aye.. *she murmers, though to which lad its uncertain*

Steven Thompson: He keeps his eyes away from meeting with Alec's, instead watching his mouth and upper chest. "Someone who is asking you a question. One you'd damn well better answer, if you don't want to go to sleep for the next several weeks, at least. And if you try to apprehend me, or have your security do it, I'll start doing things that'll breach that little hide-and-seek game you people like to play with us in no time flat."

Anjou: *forces her small face to remain impassive and smooth as best she can*

Aisling McCool: Snagging her soda she heads towards Anjou, bumping lightly into Cass on her way.

Ita McNairee: loveslovesloves... *she shakes her head* nae o tha noow. Ah'll nae let em take ye nae wheres, and ye dinnae dae naethen rash.. we'll keep et peachy aye?

Cass Blackwell: He jumps slightly, glancing at Aisling, then subtly checking to see if his wallet is still in place.

Alec Golden: *since the man is so interested in watching his lips, he gets to see a nice little smirk* So you think you can come into MY place and tell ME what to do? I do not think so. MY house. MY rules. I told you I would look into it. You want to give me a name and way to contact you, fine. You wanna come back in a couple of days and find out. Fine. You wanna stand there like a fuckin punk and mouth off. Go to hell, find your friend on your own.

Aisling McCool: "Sorry!" She blinks, golden skin flushing warmly. "Little crowded in here tonight and I'm a clutz," she chirps, smile bright.

Cass Blackwell: He nods distractedly at Aisling, and looks back at the scene. Ready to bolt if the guy turns out to be a maniac.

Anjou: *watches the man carefully, keeping her face smooth*

Ita McNairee: *ita's keeping her curvey little body between them with care, turned so she can see them both, biting at her lip*

Steven Thompson: He looks Alec over. "Man, you're good. I gotta say, I can't tell if you honestly don't know or are just lying to me. I've met better, but..." He shakes his head. "You mind if I ask you a question, Alec?"

Aisling McCool: She flicks her eyes to the scene then lays her hand on Cass's arm, giving a little squeeze. "Don't worry, hon. Alec wont' let shit happen in here!"

Alec Golden: You can ask anything you want.

Anjou -> Steven Thompson: ((Anjou is concentrating as hard as she can on what he looks like in hopes she'll be able to draw a picture of him. ))

Cass Blackwell: He gives Aisling a strange look. "I know," he replies. Looks back at the scene, still ready with for an act of self-preservation.

Alec Golden: ((*likes Cass* He has a good head on his shoulders.))

Aisling McCool: "I'm Aisling. You can call me Ash, Aisling or Dream. Your choice, hon but you should probably pick cause if you know Alec won't let anything happen then we'll likely see a bit more of each other then you think!"

Cass Blackwell: ooc> delete "with"

Cass Blackwell: ((He was born and raised in NY City. ~smirk~))

Steven Thompson: He looks at him. "How many kine have you trapped up in the bond, man? How many thralls you got, obsessing over you, willing to do whatever it takes to please you, like some kind of heroin-addicted whore? Hmmm?" He's trying to keep his voice confident, in control, but it trembles slightly as he speak, his left eye twitching slightly.

Cass Blackwell: Blinks at Aisling. "You're his girlfriend?" Another glance at the scene. Back to her. "I'm Cass. I came in to do some work for him." Back to the scene.

Anjou: *tenses a bit more. this is NOT sounding good. in fact...this is close enough to being a breach to go by that name....*

Aisling McCool: "His and Anjou's, yeah." She nods brightly, her smile cheerful.

Alec Golden: *quirks a brow at the man* Speaking of heroin. You may want to try and lay off it for a while, I think it's fuckin with your brain.

Ita McNairee: dinnae talk bad o tha whores love.. *she sings lowly.. backing a little towards steve, frowning to Alec severely* Loves.. *she murmers to Stephen* ye reckon we could talk ootside?

Cass Blackwell: Shakes his head - this guy is a wacko. Probably doesn't even know where he's at. Glances at Aisling, but doesn't say anything. Looks back to the scene.

Alec Golden: *there's people here, shit, there is only ONE person he sees*

Aisling McCool: Arches a brow at Steven's last words, lips pursing as she settles a hand on one ample hip.

Anjou: *keeps listening and watching. very still, very quiet*

Steven Thompson: He chuckles a little. "Already got off the worst drug you can find...or at least, I got off the supplier. And man, you are good. Haven't answered a question I've asked yet." He smiles a little, his eyes locked on Alec's shoulders. "Tell you what...Anne turns up in a dumpster, we'll be talking again, real soon. Hope that ain't the case, Alec, for your sake." His eyes turn to Ita, and something resembling...hurt? flashes through them. He starts moving away from the bar, toward the door.

Alec Golden: *nostrils flare slightly as he breathes, keep the anger in check, this fucktard is nothing, something to be flushed like the turd he is*

Aisling McCool: "Prick," she mutters, biting at her lower lip.

Ita McNairee: *ita throws a look over her shoulder and moves slowly after steven, murmering with quiet warmth* Loves..

Alec Golden: *shrugs at the man and shakes his head, fuckin nutjob, he turns and heads for the door out of the club...((The oneway door that for the purposes of rapid removal of my ass from the scene, happened to stay propped open))*

Cass Blackwell: Frowns at all the tension, mainly frowning because Alec is pissed. He watches the guy Steven.

Anjou: *frowns after Steven, then Alec. small body tense.....hesitates--and does not follow her friend. he needs chillout time*

Alec Golden: *the door flings open and Alec strides through, good thing it was open too cause otherwise the boy was going through it, out the back door and GONE*

Aisling McCool: Blows Alec another little kiss and sighs.

Steven Thompson: His eyes flick over to Aisling at her comment...apparently, he has good hearing. He turns to leave, moving at a brisk pace to the door, ignoring the pikey walking behind him.

Aisling McCool: And then she slips, unnoticed, into Anjou's arms.

Cass Blackwell: Sighs and lightly kicks the bar with his dangling foot. Shoot, no work tonight. Ah well. Takes another sip of his still-mostly full drink.

Alec Golden: ((And thanks for the scene gang, sorry I cannot stick around and BS, but work is calling, VERY loudly. Nice RP Rav, thanks bro. *hugs all around, even to the people who don't want them, and they get two*))

Ita McNairee: *ita just continues along behind the boy. realizing that perhaps being ignored was best for now*

Anjou: *blinks at Aisling and smiles softly, snuggling the girl close and kissing her cheek softly* hello, darling.......*sighs and shakes her head after Alec* oy.

Ita McNairee: ((*laughs*)) by feen!)

Steven Thompson: ((See ya, Pheon. *G*))

Anjou: ((i wants hugs! *pouts* can i have two even though i wants them? *L* and thanks Rav!))

Aisling McCool: "Hey, baby," she murmurs back, giving Anjou a bit more then a kiss on the cheek, her smile warm. "What was with the prick?"

Steven Thompson: He walks out into the open night sky and turns left, walking down the street.

Anjou: *wrinkles her nose, shaking her head a bit* not here, ok? *smiles softly* how are you tongith?

Anjou: *and yes, she kisses Aisling back*

Aisling McCool: "I'm peachy. honest."

Cass Blackwell: ((Bye!))

Cass Blackwell: He leaves the rest of his drink and slides off the stool, heading out.

Ita McNairee: *aaand she follows, not keeping it a secret, jingly softly behind him* Loves.. ah reckon yer stoock wie me, aye? Ye aulrecht?

Anjou: *grins at the girl* good.....shifts, pulling Ais gently closer to her so that the girl is between her legs as she sits on her stool* how's Pye?

Cass Blackwell: Steps out, looks at the direction the man is going, and turns the opposite way to leave.

Steven Thompson: He doesn't react, simply turns right, walking into an alleyway. ((Off to MT Open, so as not to distract from the others and their fun, Ita?))

Aisling McCool: "Downstairs probably meowing his head off cause I left for lessons at five this morning." She sighs and leans into Anjou for a long moment before straightening. "I should go check on him..." ((Cause I gotta go. Just realized what time it was!))

Steven Thompson: ((Or not, as it appears everyone is leaving... *S*))

Ita McNairee: ((oh. ok we'll stay ere then *laughs*))

Anjou: *nods and giggles softly* oh, the poor baby! definatley, go feed him and pet him. *kisses her again, softly* be safe, darling.

Ita McNairee: *a low sigh... yes a sigh* be a doll an dinnae be leaden me entae a trap darlin.. ah trest ye.. *she keeps a jingling after him*

Aisling McCool: "Always. Come down and wake me up when you get bored teasing the boys," she murmurs, tracing Anjou's bottom lip before pulling away and heading towards the private door.

Anjou: ((*L* i'll just fade Anjou out. he pretty much told Alec he's got some of those drugs on him......she doesn't want to get stuck, and there's a lot of exposed places for that to happen....))

Anjou: *chuckles softly, rising* in that case......why don't i just go with you? i haven't given Pye his monthly allotment of petting yet..*giving Ais a coy glance from beneath her lashes, playfully*

Steven Thompson: And Ita turns down the alleyway, he's standing there about ten feet in, with what looks like a revolver aimed at her. "What the fuck do you want, Ita?" He scowls at her.

Steven Thompson: ((Correction: Not revolver. Glock.))

Ita McNairee: och jesus loves.. *she slinks against the wall, with a clatter* Ah told ye loves.. ah've tae talk tae ye.. *her hands slip out front so he can see them, entire posture submissive, he's the one in control here* dinnae shoot me agawn, aye?

: ((Crap... Laspen too late!))

Steven Thompson: He back against the opposite wall, the glock aimed at her. "I won't shoot you unless you give me reason to. Though I have to say, I'm disappointed you're hanging out with shit like that." He motions his neck toward the club. "Thought you kept away from the Cam, besides Claudius."

Ita McNairee: ah dae loves.. ye actually interoopted me tellen those folks ah'd rather they leave me tae me devices... causen ah dinne mooch like tha Cam. *she gives a half wry grin, as much as she'll get with a gun pointed at her*

Ita McNairee: ets Claudius oo'd like tae talk tae ye loves.. *a swallow of nothing as she looks down the barrel of the gun, then up to Steve's face, sighing in releif* Och ye had me wooried.

Steven Thompson: He grunts a little bit. "Conveniant timing on my part, hmm? So what do you want to know?"

Steven Thompson: He chuckles a little, bitterly, at that. "Oh, so the great King of the Camarilla wants to speak to me? Gee, what could that possibly be about?"

Ita McNairee: *a slight nod, as she cocks her head* ye dinnae like Claudius mooch, dae ye loves? *her voice is soft, singsong quiet*

Ita McNairee: *her hands smooth her dress over the slight curl of her belly a moment before she remembers and puts them back out in front of her*

Steven Thompson: He shrugs a little at that. "Nothing personal. He's just the head of the organization that symbolizes everything I despise. An organziation that preys on humanity, lets good people like Paris be turned into monsters, and people like me into paranoid schizophrenic drug addicts. And funny enough, I haven't seen many changes since he took over."

Ita McNairee: ee's tryen loves. es like pushen against thestles facen the wrong way.. ye'll jes gie tore oop effen ye gawn straight awn, and they still willnae bend.. ye've tae work tha bottom fer awhile afore snappen em back awn themselves... *a soft sympathetic smile. she knows. she's impatient too*

Steven Thompson: "And the whole time he's taking it slow, more people are ending up enslaved to you people, more people's lives are destroyed in ways you probably don't even fuckin' THINK about anymore." He shakes his head. "Sorry, but that's not good enough for me. Slow and steady may win the race, but it also looks an awful lot like he's fallen in with the status quo."

Ita McNairee: *she looks hurt, frowning* dinnae talk to me aboot nae thenken aboot folks Stephen... Ah've a family stell, an ah worry aboot em stell. *she shakes her head, no time for moping* then tell em wha needs doone. oor tell ME wha needs doone, an hoow. ee lestens tae me darlin.

Steven Thompson: He looks at her, trying to glare, but something faltrs for just an instant, and the glare turns into a mere frown. "Look, I'll tell you what. You ask His Highness what he wants to talk to me about, and contact me. Give me a phone number to call you at...I'll contact you later with details about where we'll meet."

Ita McNairee: aye darlin.. ah'm gintae gie some paper frem me bag noow aye? dinnae shoot me.. oor effen ye DAE shoot me.... nae.. jes.. jes dinnae shoot me at aul. *she slowly hauls a scrap of paper out of her dirty satchel and scrawls something on it*

Steven Thompson: He smirks a little. "Don't worry, I won't...long as you behave. If not...well, you'll be well-rested, I can promise you that."

Ita McNairee: *she gives him a smile* play nice noow. ye kain ah'm nae harqm tae ye. *she offers out the number carefully between them, watching him with something like releif* Och... ye had me worried.. ah didnae kain oo 'ad ye.. whether tha baddie's'd got ye.. *she shakes her head, gnawing her lip* yer a bet o a prat, disappearen like ye dae.

Steven Thompson: He flinches a little. "They did have me, for a while...the Sabbat did. Fausto got me out. I stayed at a place he had set up for me, until some Asians started poking around at Christmas time, then I came back. Got my people organized."

Steven Thompson: He reaches out, gun trained on her with the other hand, and takes the number from her.

Ita McNairee: ah'm glad yer safe loves. *she lets it go, drawling back away from the gun, tempted to push it so its not trained on her. but not quite stupid enough to do so* Ah reckon Ets tae dae wie tha same lad as afore. the felly we went tae see wie fausto aye? *she's back against the wall now, hands in front of her* oow am ah tae contact ye steven darlin?

Steven Thompson: His eyes waver at the mention of the lad, then harden suddenly, a defense reaction. He tightens his grip on the gun, and shakes his head. "You won't. I'll call you." He slips the phone number into his pocket, and starts side-walking out of the alleyway. "See you later, Ita. Don't make me regret this."

Ita McNairee: G'necht loves.. *and she heads on down to the edge of the alley to watch him, half worried about Alec popping out of an alley and taking out his anger on the poor boy.. or.. something equally wretched.. she purses her lips, watching him until he's out of veiw*