Jamie Randall: And the Scottish Mafia meanders into the
Sept.
Troy Lawrence: The young lawyer has found a
place to sit that doesn't soil his pants, and that's a good thing...they're
expensive. He sits there on the bench, the deep brown suit jacket folded on the
spot next to him as he smokes a cigarette, reading a newspaper by lamplight.
Jamie Randall: Jamie rubs at his stubbled
jaw and takes a hit from his flask before tucking it back into his pocket.
Troy Lawrence:
d10: Per+Alert: 10,5,3,5,7,
Jamie Randall:
d10: per alert: 7,9,7,
Jamie Randall: One red-gold brow arches as
he spots Troy. Curious, he meanders that way slowly.
Troy Lawrence: He glances up as he notes
Jamie approaching, the paper folded and set aside. He rises to his feet, looking
to the man with a nod.
Jamie Randall: "Evenin'," he rumbles,
Scott's accent thick, his voice deep. He nods to Troy, studying him quietly.
Troy Lawrence: "Good evening," he says,
taking a step toward Jamie. "I don't believe we've formally met, although I seem
to remember seeing you here earlier this week. My apologies for not introducing
myself then. Troy Lives-To-Tell-The-Tale Lawrence, Fostern Galliard of the
Silver Fangs, House of the Unbreakable Hearth and Alpha of the Peace Eagle Pack
of the Sept of the Green."
Jamie Randall: "Jamie Randall, Cliath Ahroun
of the Fianna, unpacked non-entity," he says, chuckling as he shakes the man's
hand rather firmly.
Troy Lawrence: "A pleasure, Mr.
Randall." The man's handshake is firm and strong. "You are a new arrival to the
Sept, correct?"
Jamie Randall: "Och, aye." He nods.
"Relatively speakin'."
Troy Lawrence: "Relatively, of course."
He nods a little bit. "What do you think of what we have here?"
Jamie Randall: "I'm nae sure yet, lad. I've
been wrapped oop en findin' work an' wrappin' me wee lass around me finger."
Troy Lawrence: "Ahh, I see." He nods with a
polite smile. "And which lass would that be?"
Jamie Randall: "Brianna McCarthy."
Troy Lawrence: Recognition shines in his
eyes, and he nods. "Ahh, Miss McCarthy. A strong woman, indeed."
Jamie Randall: "Aye, she is a braw wee
lass." He smiles and rubs the back of his neck.