After the new start for the Council of Neonates

[LittleBird]

Kira gently slides her journal out from her cloak, writing a few terms she is unfamiliar with, notes and questions perhaps she would ask another night, "Thank you," she looks up, clearly captured by such a telling, yet a couple of aspects clearly touched her, "So...so they are parted for a year and a day, not by their own choice but for the sake of the people? And only due to another's interference and reminder at that!" she shakes her head, hating the thought, "-at another's order...at another expectation of what they must do..." she bites her lip and shrugs her shoulders lightly, her head turning away and her voice grows smaller, more fragile as she breathes "Tis not the same, tis not for the same reasons you described earlier?"

She looks up, as if recalling the room around her, she leans back in her chair lesiurly, granting a brushing gesture before returning her journal from whence it came. Her fingers then retreat inside her cloak, climbing up to her necklace, feathering it gently as she offers a weak smile to Christine ""Forgive me...I'm looking at things far too literally my dear, tis...tis a charmed tradition, if a bittersweet tale. But what of those that do part before a year and a day? Are they judged, or are your people more understanding than this current society of tight laced, tight lipped pale faced throng? "

[Christine Daye]

...I wish I sat on my true love's knee... many a fond story told to me... he told me things I ne'er shall see..

"...hmmm?"

She shakes her head, refocusing at Kira's fresh batch of questions, then shrugs.

"...more things in heaven and earth... "

Her eyes go slightly distant again. Listening to the music only she can hear. Unknowing, she sings to herself quietly:

"...I'll dye my petticoat... I'll dye it red... around the world I'll beg my bread... 'til I find my love alive or dead..."

[Regulus Grey]

Tilting his head as she speaks, Regulus looks at Christine. Leaning forward in his chair he rests his elbows on his knees and props his chin up on his knuckles.

"A question I would like to pose, if you are amenable to answer it. Was Mrs Jackdaw's statement about the...disruption in the city being no worse than any other city's correct?"

His eyes move between Dorian and Christine, occasionally flicking to Kira.

[Christine Daye]

Christine just bursts out laughing.

[Eric Lunaris]

'Down the alley to the west of the theatre, the biggest door.'

Well, Eric had definitely found it. He'd travelled with a black case in his hand to this darkened corner. The door looked strong, exceptionally strong. This would t have matter if Eric could hear voices behind it, but he could not, and so would have to give the door a proper knock. The kind witches make on dark and stormy nights. Eric was not a witch, nor was it stormy, but the knock gave a loud echo.

[Christine Daye]

Christine's head lifts suddenly.

"Excuse me a moment..."

She's out of the room in a rustle of skirts, moving quickly and surely through the darkened corridors.

The sound of bolts being withdrawn and the stage door opens. Christine's pale face breaks into a smile as she sees her clanmate.

"Oh, Mr Lunaris. Come, be welcome to my theatre. We are in the studio... follow me and mind your step... the stage hands leave the place in a terrible state sometimes... one never knows what one may trip over..."

She giggles, high pitched and fae.

The door locked firmly behind them, she escorts Lunaris (and his burden) to the studio, and the others.

[Regulus Grey]

As Christine leaves the room, Regulus's eyes flick over to track her movement. A slight tensing of the muscles of his legs at the new knock on the door is quickly relaxed by conscious effort.

At the thought of new people arriving he seems self-concious, rolling his sleeves down and ensuring the scales are hidden under the simple white cotton of his shirt. He nods once to Lunaris when he enters before his eyes continue to flick between the three Kindred you heard his question.

[LittleBird]

Kira doesn't answer Greys question, assuming Christine mirth was a detailed enough response. Though she does smile as the Scots man enters.
"Evening Lunaris, it seems your entrance has been wildly anticipated, we've left small talk at the door finally," she chuckles and gestures to his case, before leaning forward a little, looking to Dorian, "Care to tell all of us blissful ignorant souls the rules?"

[Dorian M. Black]

Dorian inclines his head to Christine, a slightly self-mocking show of grace. "I live to please."

There are similar images in his mind, on steady passage, and they cite to his own sanity that he needs some exonerating history of nocturnal hallucination, anything to explain why he's doing this, or his testimony will sound nothing short of appalling. Dorian really shouldn't be doing this. There were plenty other more important things to do. He finds he comes up against nothing but a small frail analysis when he thinks of the future.

Kira interupts his thoughts, as she tends to do. Dorian lets the mood melt away.

"Is this a feature of your Embrace or are you contagious?" he finally asks of Regulus, unable to quell that concern any longer. He's already decided that he can't risk the Gangrel pretending to not be contagious. Best to assume he absolutely is. And behave accordingly for post-meeting quarantine. He suddenly remembers that Constance was exposed to Regulus, and he let her return, carrying a slew of potential pathogens into the house.

"Rules?" Dorian blinks, glancing to Kira. His gaze returns distractedly to Regulus. "Ah. Yes. Of course. You drink. It's very simple. Christine begins by announcing something she may or may not have done, as such: Never have I ever tripped up on stage. Now, should she have indeed done this, then she must swallow a measure of her drink. Should she be absent of the experience, then she forgoes. So, too, do all others in the game drink - or not drink - as befits the truth of their experience to what was posed. The action of consuming your beverage dictates your response; Obfuscating your answer therefore defeats the purpose. You drink if you have done what is proposed; you do not drink if you have not. It needn't merely be actions. You can pose ambitions, desires... fantasies."

[Regulus Grey]

Regulus's eyes focus on Dorian intently as a small smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

"Contagious? No. The deformity comes from the blood of my clan, just as my Sire had eyes that were slitted like a cat's and my grand sire had skin like a shark on her neck."

After Dorian finishes explaining the rules, Regulus leans back in his chair.

"Well then..who shall begin?"