Heinrich Marchlin: ((here))

Grant Rowe: *The Muse hotel is located in the heart of Midtown Manhatten, and caters to the who's who of the moment. Filled with elegant fixtures, clean lines, and vibrant colours, The Muse has recently become the place to see an be seen. For this occasion, plush overstuffed loveseats and lounges have been brought in, each covered in a rich, jewel toned velvet and trimmed in gold to match the subtle touches of gold leaf all over the room. Grant circulates among a small crowd at the far corner of the room, with Teri on his arm. He's dressed just one step down from formal, the dark blue shirt under his black jacket making him appear somber, yet elegant*

Teri Jensen (night): *Teri's dress matches almost to the last shade Grant's shirt. Form fitting yet tasteful, it's a far cry from her usual biker vixen wear. Even her manner is different, tones hushed just a bit, posture and presentation the picture of perfection. Either she's secretly from excellent breeding, or she simply cleans up very, very well.*

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich moves into the Hotel with his ghoul following close behind him he is dressed in very formal and elegant attire his cold eyes sweep the room looking for those he is to be meeting with tonight*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith -> Grant Rowe: d10: Mask of Thousand-WP: 9,7,6,3,5,2,6,

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He makes his way into the Muse, shouldering past a couple people as he makes his way to the room in question. He's dressed as per normal, his Mask of A Thousand Faces up, of course, as he moves in, looking around in sullen curiosity to see who's here. The man is approaching middle-age, and walks with the slumped shoulders and downcast head that usually comes along with a lifetime of being beaten-down. His darkened skin and facial features give away his African-American heritage...probably mixed blood. He’s well-built, with a fighter’s strong upper body covered by a hooded sweatshirt and heavy jacket over it protect him from inclement weather, an a pair of heavy black work boots keep his feet dry.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: A sleek BMW pulls up to the building, and a woman steps out in a elegant red evening dress and heels. Her hair is pulled up into an assembly behind her head, and purple bangs frame wonderfully blue eyes and decently attractive features. She isn't a supermodel, but the woman has curves. She has large red cattlehide purse slung over a shoulder, and a clear and purple plastic pin pierces her hair at an angle. As she walks away from the vehicle, it pulls away from the curb and drives off, leaving the woman alone on the street and looking up at the hotel. She's seems slightly nervous and not quite comfortable here.

Heinrich Marchlin: *After makeing it to the proper door Heinrich stands there before motioning the ghoul behind him towards the door to knock on it*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He looks up at Heinrich, grunting a little to him in acknowledgment of his greater status, and stops directly behind him, waiting for the door to open.

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich looks towards Tyrone and gives him a polite nod as he waits for the door to open as well*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She steps quickly through the building, approaching the doors to the room. She notices two others waiting outside the doors, so she stops and waits quite a distance down the hallway from them. She frowns in consideration, not quite sure what the correct procedure is for something like this.

Heinrich Marchlin: ((okay because of being informed of my mistake)) *Heinrich moves through the ballroom door and motions for the ghoul to stop along side the door and watch as people enter. He moves imediately towards someplace to sit and waits for the others to arrive*

Grant Rowe: ((doors are open. it's one of the meeting/reception rooms))

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He looks over his shoulder to Mary Margaret, dark brown eyes passing over her form appraisingly. It's a short enough look, almost but not quite dismissive, before he looks back forward, moving alongside Heinrich. He leans in to murmur to the man.

Teri Jensen (night): *Teri is nudged and steps forward, clearly cast in the role of gracious hostess tonight. Heinrich is of course greeted first as she all but glides across the carpet to him* Prince Marchlin. I'm so glad that you could join us.

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich pauses a moment in his stride to hear what Tyrone is saying*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith -> Heinrich Marchlin: "So, yo, Heinrich. Ya gots any clue what someone a fuckin' Anarch whelp like Teri's doin' callin' a meetin' of alla us?"

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She follows them inside at a very safe distance, a long while after the two passed inside the room. Once inside of the ballroom, she's making her way straight to a corner where she can blend and hide.

Heinrich Marchlin -> Tyrone Allen Greysmith: *He smiles a bit* "Anarch whelp?" *he says breifly to himself* "No I do not"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith -> Heinrich Marchlin: "She's all up on the jock of tha so-called Anarch Baron, Spitfire," he murmurs, before stepping away, the conversation over for now, sicne Teri's approaching.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He murmurs one more then and steps away, looking over Teri with an appraising stare. A bit harder then the one given Mary Margaret...but polite enough still.

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich offers Teri his hand* "Mrs. Jensen you look lovely tonight"

Teri Jensen (night): Thank you. *Keeping her focus firmly on Henrich, taking his hand lightly in hers* It's so good to see you again.

Heinrich Marchlin: *He nods* "Yes Mrs. Jensen it is very good to see you again, and after you are done greeting the guest if you have a minute there is somthing I would very much like to discuss with you"

Grant Rowe: *Grant moves forward, eyeing Tyrone slowly with a gaze so intent that it would almost come as no surprise if he ended it by licking his lips* Prince Marchlin. A pleasure. *Gaze shifting to Heinrich again as his hand rests protectively on the small of Teri's back*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He looks Teri over a minute, offering her a nod. No hand. "Teri. S'up?" No, they haven't exactly met before, but it doesn't seem to matter to her.

Heinrich Marchlin: "Mr. Rowe" *he says with a nod to the man* "I see this time you have remebered your manners"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: ((To HIM.))

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He looks up to Grant, looking him over and giving a look just as intent as he got.

Teri Jensen (night): As you wish, Sir. *Smile firmly pinned in place, though a flicker of clear panic shows in her eyes when the unknown Tyrone addresses her by name*

Heinrich Marchlin: *He gives a nod to Teri smileing at the since of panic in her eyes* "Thank you Mrs. Jensen"

Grant Rowe: Who is your friend, Bubeleh? *Meeting Tyrone's gaze as he waits for Teri's introduction*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: To his credit, there's only the flicker of a smirk at the look that passes over Teri...barely noticable. He looks back to Grant, brow furrowing. "I ain't believe we been acquaintanced."

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich moves to find himself a place to sit down and watch those moveing around the Ball room*

Teri Jensen (night): Excuse me. *A little too quickly, all but darting off to greet Mary, clearly thankful for the excuse*

Grant Rowe: Quite a small gathering, no? *Very nearly looking amused, and pointedly not offering his hand to Tyrone* Grant Rowe.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: Mary is sitting on a plush sofa, glancing around with a strange curiosity and soft smile.

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich notices Grant not offering his hand to Tyrone and sits there watching a bit amused*

Teri Jensen (night): Mary. *Smile cold now as she perches on the very edge of the sofa* I wasn't sure you'd make it.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: "Yeh," he says with a snort, looking around. "'at's about right. Figgered Marcel'd show up, at least." He shakes his head sullenly and looks back to Grant. "Tyrone Greysmith. Nosferatu Prim'gen."

Mary Margaret St. Michael: "Me neither." Her smile doesn't change. She's still as warm, curious, and friendly as ever.

Teri Jensen (night): How have you been?

Grant Rowe: Primogen. Of course. *There's a subtle shift in his mannerisms suddenly, as if he's thawed a degree or two* I apologize. I was sure that Teri wouldn't be so careless as to not introduce a council member.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: "I've been well. How is your boyfriend doing?"

Heinrich Marchlin: *The smile grows a bit bigger as he watches Grant back peddle a bit*

Teri Jensen (night): *There's a brief but hateful dagger glare, smile never so much as budging* Business associate. And he's well, thank you. If you'll excuse me? *Standing gracefully and taking a step away even as she speaks*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He grins a little bit. "Yeh, well. S'hard ta keep track, I 'magine, when yer spendin' so much time at nightclubs an' not 'lysium." A shrug. "S'yer new. Where ya from?"

Mary Margaret St. Michael: There is a bit of relief in her eyes as she watches Teri walk away. She smoothes out her dress as she sits, returning to simply looking around and acting pleasent.

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich moves off to intercept Terri as she moves away from Mary* "A word please Mrs. Jensen"

Teri Jensen: Of course, M'lord. *Perfect smile perfectly in place once more*

Grant Rowe: Nightclubs... *Repeating the word as if it's a novelty*

Heinrich Marchlin: *He places an arm about her shoulders and leads her away from the others as he leans in and whispers very quietly to her*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: "Yep. Nightclubs." He gives Grant a little smirk and shrug, before he moves off, heading back toward Mary. Just making the rounds.

Teri Jensen: Nonsense. *Hooking her arm with his* I'd heard that the Baron was away, and then had come back? *A tone of slight confusion to her voice*

Heinrich Marchlin: "Perhaps we should call Tyrone to speak with you on this?" *he says looking at her*

Teri Jensen: ((*mutters unkind things* nobody saw that. *hands post to Dark*))

Grant Rowe: *The gaze follows, considerably less friendly behind the man's back*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She watches the man approach her, trying to hide the fact that she felt like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding vehicle.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He comes up and takes a seat next to Mary Margaret, nodding to her. "Mary. S'up with ya?"

Teri Jensen: For what reason? Is there something that I should be aware of?

Heinrich Marchlin: *he leans into whisper to her again*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She smiles at the man, not quite sure what he wanted from her. "Nothing too interesting. I'm just looking around, trying to figure out who is who and what the heck is going on. Would you be able to help me?"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He smirks a little bit and shrugs. "Sure. Might as well be on an equal playin' ground. M'all 'bout fairness." He starts looking in people's directions. "'at's Prince Marchlin, an' Teri with 'im, ya know, I think. Other guy's Grant Rowe, would seem."

Mary Margaret St. Michael: "Oh." She takes them all in and then glances back at her new friend with an appreciative look. "Thank you. I'm... not really used to coming to... things like this."

Grant Rowe: *As if on cue, he strolls over to the pair, offering Mary a Hollywood smile and his hand* And a vision of pure beauty that I've not had the pleasure of meeting yet.

Teri Jensen: *Her head tilts a bit, before she leans in to speak to him again*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He snorts a bit at Grant's flowery opening, and remains in his seat, watching the newcomer to the city with some curiosity.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She reaches out to take Grant's hand firmly, "A pleasure? I don't know. How do you do?"

Grant Rowe: You will, I'm sure. I'll be making my home here. *Kissing the back of her hand lightly*

Teri Jensen: *She leans away a bit, looking both angry and insulted*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She blinks a moment, then smiles again friendlily. "Where in the city?" She glances over at Tyrone quickly, and then focuses on this man who has taken her hand.

Grant Rowe: I haven't had time to find a suitable haven. Perhaps all I've needed is a lovely escort to suggest somewhere appropriate? *All charm now, every moment of his attention on Mary*

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich seems very calm but those who are watching may have notices that his grip on Terri has tightened a bit*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He listens quietly between the two of them, with occasional glances flicked to Teri and Heinrich.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: "Oh. Well, how about Staten Island?" Not Brooklyn! Not Brooklyn! "I have heard that it is lovely there."

Grant Rowe: Staten Island. *Again saying the words as if testing them* You know it well?

Heinrich Marchlin: "Good" *he says as he releases her and begins to move away from her to retake his seat*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He smirks a little at Mary's suggestion...damn well knowing Rowe's not moving into the sewers, after all.

Teri Jensen: *She seems unsure where to go for a moment, before drifting toward Grant again*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: "No, but much of the rest of the city is saturated with... things. So I recommend Staten Island." She nods quickly, smoothing out her dress over her lap.

Grant Rowe: Things. Such as? *Reaching for Teri when she nears, gripping her elbow tightly*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She hesitates, glancing over toward Tyrone for help. "Things..."

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich looks over at the group and just watches them*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: "Actually," he says with a grunt, rising from his seat. "Might be worth yer while ta check Staten out. S'pretty high-class shit out there." A pause. "Or, y'know. Downtown or Midtown." He just manages to avoid suggesting Brooklyn, as he moves away, watching Teri as he makes his way toward Heinrich.

Heinrich Marchlin: *He nods to Tyrone as he approaches motioning for the man to sit down if he wishes*

Teri Jensen: *She looks helpless and lost before she notices that she's being watched, composure gathered instantly to offer Tyrone a smile*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He does in fact take a seat near Tyrone, setting in with a grunt as he watches the other three. "Small crowd," he comments idly.

Heinrich Marchlin: *He nods* "Where is Claudius?" *he asks almost seeming sad by the man not being there* "I have so missed speaking with...." *a slight pause in his speach* "Civilized company"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: ((Tyrone = Heinrich. :P))

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She smiles, glad that her area was left out of Tyrone's list.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He scowls a little. "Fuck if I know. My sire left town a while back. Know I told Marcel...figgered he'd-a told ya." He narrows his eyes as he watches Teri, Grant, and Mary. "So we jus' here ta socialize, er what?"

Heinrich Marchlin: "Yes and the fool there expects me to name him Seneschal I beleive, which I may very well do" *he says as he looks at Tyrone* "Thank you for the information earlier it was most appreciated, and it is a shame about your sire leaveing town I will miss speaking with him"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He frowns as he watches Grant, his voice lowering. "Who th'fuck is he?"

Heinrich Marchlin: *leans in to speak with Tyrone quietly*

Heinrich Marchlin -> Tyrone Allen Greysmith: "He is the Seneschal of Atlantic city, I do beleive he has come here to try and challenge me for control of New York."

Grant Rowe: Perhaps we could arrange a tour. *Smile never leaving his face, inviting himself to sit next to Mary*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He snorts a little, whispering back.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: "I'm quiet busy these nights, but perhaps Teri could guide you around the city. She seems quite happy about everything, and she's excellent company." She looks over at Teri with a friendly smile.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith -> Heinrich Marchlin: "No shit, huh? He one-a Mary an' Teri's clan, or somethin' else entirely?"

Heinrich Marchlin -> Tyrone Allen Greysmith: "he is of the rose such as myself, even though the comparision almost makes since there"

Heinrich Marchlin: *A slight grin comes over his face as he whispers to Tyrone*

Grant Rowe: I'm aware of Teri's quality of company. I was hoping for a fresh perspective.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He smirks and chuckles a little, a deep sound that comes from his throat.

Teri Jensen: *Her eyes flicker over to Heinrich and Tyrone, the look of panic back for a moment*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith -> Heinrich Marchlin: "Well, I can tell ya I ain't so keen on someone comin' in an' takin' over. Ya been here a little while, at least."

Heinrich Marchlin -> Tyrone Allen Greysmith: "Well its nice for the support, I am happy at least one of the primogen do not beleive that I am going to run the ship into the ground"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith -> Heinrich Marchlin: "Oh? Who does?"

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She tilts her head to the side and giggles girlishly. "We don't need an excuse to meet, if that is what you're really after." There isn't much going on in this girl's head, if you followed her mannerisms and style of speech.

Heinrich Marchlin -> Tyrone Allen Greysmith: "Well my last account was I was not the most popular person among the Primogen, but since I havent seen any attempts on my life I guess that could have changed"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He shrugs a little bit. Murmur, murmur, murmur.

Celest Aston: ((I will be right back *S* Need food))

Tyrone Allen Greysmith -> Heinrich Marchlin: "Yeh, an' the Primogen been doin' so much. Ain't seen Monique in forever. Celeste...who th' fuck knows. Just been Marcel an' me, far as I know."

Heinrich Marchlin: *he nods a bit as he talks quietly with Tyrone*

Grant Rowe: Ah. You've seen through my charade. *Giving her a quick wink*

Heinrich Marchlin -> Tyrone Allen Greysmith: "Well I guess I should go ahaead and get it over with, better to keep a fool on a short leash near you where they can only cause a little damage then let them roam free to stir up trouble"

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She smiles widely, leaning forward in her seat. "Why are you in the city?"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He grins and nods to whatever Heinrich says, and rises, letting Heinrich go first. The Prince's party. His attention is focused on Grant and Teri, primarily.

Grant Rowe: Change of pace. It was time to move on, and your prince has made quite a compelling argument for me to stay.

Teri Jensen: *She looks unfocused, as if concentrating on something else*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: "Oh really? What did he offer?"

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich moves to stand up* "Attention everyone please" *he says as he motions to Grant to come to him*

Grant Rowe: *She gets his most dazzling smile, her hand kissed again* Excuse me. *Standing, his grip goes to Teri's elbow again, propelling her with him as he moves to Heinrich*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She returns his smile with a friendly trusting one of her own, and waits for the show to begin.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He stays where he is, near Heinrich, as he watches Teri and Grant. This should be interesting. His expression is inscrutable, no more then it's usual sullenness that's always present, even in his respectful face.

Heinrich Marchlin: *He looks at Teri and then to Grant waiting until all Kindred eyes are upon him before speaking again*

Teri Jensen: *She's nearly tripped as he starts to move while her attention drifts, righting her balance and giving him an apologetic smile that goes ignored*

Heinrich Marchlin: *When Grant is next to him and stopped her looks towards the gathering* "I know many of you are wondering who our guest is and why he is within my Domain" *he says looking at him* "And this I will tell you now Herr Grant is from this point on my acting Seneschal of the city since we have been without one since Viktors departure. His voice shall carry my message and his wisdom shall help to guide this city in stability or his ashes shall mingle with its foundation" *he says very seriously as he stands there*

Heinrich Marchlin: ((him should read them))

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He blinks at the...less-then-sterling introduction. His face stays calm, nodding a little bit in acquiesence of the Prince's words, with very faint humor in his eyes.

Grant Rowe: *He appears completely non-plussed at the very thinly veiled threat, reaching to shake Heinrich's hand* It will be a pleasure, I'm sure.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She blinks a few times, not sure she understood what was going on.

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich does not extend his hand to shake the mans hand* "Herr Grant I asume from your previous post you know what is asked of you and the responsibility that now rest on your shoulders, do not disapoint me"

Grant Rowe: I wouldn't dream of it.

Heinrich Marchlin: "Good" *he says before retakeing his seat next to Tyrone*

Grant Rowe: I'd rathar thought there were more of us, though. *Still watching Heinrich as he sits*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: So had she. Mary looks around the ballroom, all alone.

Heinrich Marchlin: "There are others within the city that I fear were unable or uninterested in attending tonights gathering" *he says looking at him* "And I suggest Herr Grant you learn who those others are so the mistakes you have made here tonight will not be repeated"

Grant Rowe: Mistakes. *Barely a question mark on the end, and more than a trace of amusement*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He shrugs and moves to sit next to Heinrich again...he had been standing near Grant and Heinrich when they made their pronouncement.

Heinrich Marchlin: "Yes mistakes in not knowing of whom you spoke to before giveing such flippant disrespect to one of our most honored" *he says looking at him*

Grant Rowe: You've misunderstood, clearly. My Prince.

Heinrich Marchlin: "I do not beleive I have Herr Rowe" *he says watching the man* "I do have eyes"

Mary Margaret St. Michael: Her eyes flicker back and forth between Grant and Heinrich.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He stays quiet, watching the power play already erupting.

Grant Rowe: I never disputed their presence, merely their accuracy.

Teri Jensen: *She takes the opportunity to wiggle from Grant's grasp, escaping back to where Mary is sitting*

Heinrich Marchlin: "Your demenor towards Primogen Greysmith showed a clear arrogance which if not curbed will lead this city to fire and ruin, for it has one prince allready and even I know my place" *he says watching him* "That is all there needs to be no more discussion about the issue"

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She glances over toward Teri with a weak smile, and then continues to watch the discussion obviously continue in tones.

Teri Jensen: *She settles next to Mary, smile in place as she leans in to speak to her*

Grant Rowe: *Something dark flickers in his eyes a moment* Of course, my Prince.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She leans in a little as well, smiling just the same.

Heinrich Marchlin: *He smiles at the flicker in the mans eyes and nods to him*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She whispers back quietly.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He's saying nothing, eyes betraying nothing, as he watches. Though there is a brief flick of his eyes toward Mary and Teri.

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich just sits there and slowly turns his attention towards Terri and Mary as well*

Teri Jensen: *She glances up, giving Grant a smile and tiny wave, legs uncrossing, then crossing again the other direction. Just two girls having a friendly chat*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She blinks back at everyone looking at the two girls on the plush sofa, and smiles. Everyone is friends here.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He snorts, shaking his head, and looks to Heinrich. "We done here, Prince?"

Heinrich Marchlin: *He nods* "I would assume so" *he says with a nod to Tyrone before turning his attention to Grant* "Thank Terri for us for such a lovely evening" *He says as he stands*

Teri Jensen: *She looks paniced again as people begin to take their leave so soon, conversation with Mary abandoned*

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She smiles a little wider. "Is that our cue?"

Celest Aston: Soon the doors to the room open up and she is standing there. Her blond mass of hair falling down her back, loose. A shear white top, over a skin tight black tank top. A pair of jeans well worn and seem to hug her legs like a second skin. Steel toed boots and a trench coat top her outfit, a man walks past her out in the hall carrying a bag over his shoulder. Her crystal blue eyes scan the room, although there is a slight lilt of her lips in amusement, she is all cool prefesionalism.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He looks at Teri and raises an eyebrow at her panicked expression, watching her for a moment.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: d10: Per+Emp: 3,2,7,4,5,6,

Celest Aston: No one can say she doesn't liketo make an entrance.

Heinrich Marchlin: *He stands there and smiles at Celest* "Why Miss Ashton I was wondering if you were going to be joining us tonight"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: ((*Kicks the H out of Celest's name on Heinrich's behalf. She's a Primogen, not an ST. *Winks*))

Celest Aston: A raise of an eyebrow. "It's ~Aston~ Her Marchlin." She says the whole thing with a perfect german accent and prnunciation.

Celest Aston: (Herr not her))

Heinrich Marchlin: ((yea for som reason I always seems to add the H *G*))

Grant Rowe: *His full attention moves to the woman, looking her over with an appreciative nod*

Heinrich Marchlin: *He looks to the man behind her before looking back to Celest* "Well I guess the obvious question for me here is whats in the bag?" *he says motioning towards it*

Celest Aston: ((Oh yeah if anyone cares App 4)) She doesn't even scan the people there, an aloof manner about her, as she walks in.

Celest Aston: ((The guy walked past her out in the hall, he did not come into the room.....like he was walking off, like a guest went by. Sorry for not making that clearer))

Heinrich Marchlin: ((Ohh then DLP))

Teri Jensen: ((ack. brb))

Heinrich Marchlin: *He smiles at Celest* "Its a shame that you missed Herr Rowe's introduction as Seneschal but im sure he would be pleased to tell you all about it Miss Aston" *he says with a nod to her*

Celest Aston: "Guess I didn't miss much." she comments off handedly pulling a cigarette case out of a pocket along with a flameless lighter.

Celest Aston: ((Didn't miss much then.))

Mary Margaret St. Michael: Oooo, someone just made Mary's list for people to avoid.

Heinrich Marchlin: *he smiles a bit to her before continueing his move towards the door*

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: ((Holding any post I make until I get the results of the Per+Emp roll against Teri.))

Teri Jensen -> Tyrone Allen Greysmith: the panic is real. she also seems very, very nervous

Mary Margaret St. Michael: And her expression says so.

Grant Rowe: *He moves forward smoothly, offering the killer smile and his hand to Celest* Miss Aston, was it? A pleasure.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He rises slowly, curious, as he makes his way toward Teri.

Heinrich Marchlin: *Heinrich stops for a moment when Tyrone moves off in Teris direction watching her intently*

Celest Aston: She takes out a cigarette and slips the case away lighting the cigarette, and forcing the smoke out of her lungs blowing it up to the ceiling, it is a motion more left over habbit than anything else. "Goodnight Herr Prince."Her eyes glance exactally to where Mary is sitting and she smiles, before looking to Tyrone. "Tyrone, hello. Good to see you out and about." A raise of an eyebrow to Grant, but she takes his hand and shakes it. "Yes correct. I am sure we shall find out."

Grant Rowe: *He moves to kiss the back of her hand* And who is it you represent?

Teri Jensen: I'm afraid I don't recall us formally meeting. *Expression apologetic as Tyrone gets closer*

Heinrich Marchlin: *he moves away from to door and towards Tyrone*

Celest Aston: She let's him kiss her hand but then retracts it and atkes another drag off the cigarette, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Well my dear Seneshal, might I inquire which clan you fall under?"

Celest Aston: ((Ravyn is on the phone, with his parents, he appologizes for the delay and such.))

Grant Rowe: I fall among the roses. Though none that have beauty to match yours.

Teri Jensen: (brb. switching comps)

Celest Aston: Non-pulsed by his flattery. "Well then You happen to fall amongst the clan I am Primogen for."

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She is eavesdropping in on Celest and Grant's conversation with a smile, looking over toward a patch of flowers arranged on a table.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: ((Sincere apologies, all.)) He walks up to Teri, leaning down to speak with her quietly.

Heinrich Marchlin: *After seeing that Tyrone seems to be involved in a private conversation with Teri, he turns and heads back towards the door and exits from the ball room* ((Thanks for the scene))

Mary Margaret St. Michael: ((Bye!))

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: ((Later, Dark!))

Celest Aston: ((Bye!))

Teri Jensen: ((bye dark. thanks))

Tyrone Allen Greysmith -> Teri Jensen: "So what's gotcha so nervous, hmm?"

Grant Rowe: What a delight. We should get aquainted most certainly, then.

Teri Jensen: Hmm? *Giving him a too bright smile* You know how it is. First party in a new place...

Mary Margaret St. Michael: ((I'm confused. Where is everyone?))

Teri Jensen: ((Grant and Celest are near the door talking. Teri and Tyrone are a bit away))

Mary Margaret St. Michael: And thus Mary is all by herself, pleasently watching everyone mill about.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: ((Ummm...wherever Teri is. :) ))

Celest Aston: Still smoking and with that quirk of a smile in place. "I am sure you would Mr Rowe was it." almost not even a question the way she says it. "Jpw long have you been in the city?"

Grant Rowe: Please. It's Grant. Nearly two weeks, now.

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: He chuckles a little bit. "Yeh. I bet." He effects a mock high-brow, snotty tone in the way that only a low-brow can do. "Well, lovely pahty. Must go, pish posh." He smirks to her and starts to make his way toward the door.

Mary Margaret St. Michael: Mary gracefully stands up, and adjusts her purse strap on her shoulder.

Teri Jensen: Thank you for coming... *Offered almost weakly*

Grant Rowe: Perhaps I could get you an ashtray?

Mary Margaret St. Michael: She gives Teri a little encouraging smile, "But this is just the beginning, right?"

Tyrone Allen Greysmith: And he's gone out the door, into the night. ((Thanks for the scene, guys. Was fun!))