Of All the Gin Joints in All the World...

[Rhona]

Her smile widening, she was positively glowing with delight, a blush creeping into the warm pink of her face. She found herself a space on Stirling's other side, leaning back into the seat. Despite entering from the chill, her skin radiated mortal warmth and her eyes flitted over both of her companions with interest.

"It's been a while...and a lot happened, I'll tell you that. Sadly I'm not sure how much of it I'm allowed to explain." she said with a grin.

She still couldn't help the slight urge to put distance between herself and Stirling, but at least this wasn't the first time she was meeting him.

"Sorry about the whole rescue business misunderstanding, but I suppose I should be thanking you both really," she paused, her form languid and content as she let herself relax a little more, "I was very grateful you recognised me when you did. Dukes wasn't happy about the wrist though."

[Stirling Montgomery]

Stirling grinned in appreciation as Caru's mother tongue tickled against his ear, his gaze also locked on to Rhona and ignoring the strange presence of Jean Jaques at the bar. Unseen to Rhona, Stirling's grip on Caru's waist tightened until his fingers dug into her ribs but he didn't order the other girl not to sit beside him. He even gestured to the bar maid for a third glass, leaving it to the man to pour both a drink for his companions.

"Fuck Dukes, everyone's fine. Don't thank me. I don't take kindly to bein' tracked, 'specially over a bunch of bull. Sheriff should know to check his intelligence before he launches a fuckin' rescue party."

Stirling laughed coarsely and took a drink from his glass. His body language remained open and he didn't budge an inch when Rhona sat down, not seeming to note her discomfort at their proximity.

"What does she mean, not allowed to explain? Sort of horse shit is that, you asked her a question." He looked to Caru now, speaking as if Rhona were not present at all for a moment.

[Caru]

"Oh Rhona," Caru urged, a little love-drunk. "You can't just say that and keep pussy-tight. Not allowed to explain? What does that mean? Was it Dukes who told you that?"

Her gaze suddenly sobered. "You realise he's a Tremere, right? I met him. What are you even doing, cosying up to a Usurper? He's one of the most deluded one's I've ever met, and I've met a few. Southampton's full of them. Don't you know anything about the Omen Wars?" Here her voice lowered.

The effect of frustration was ruined slightly when, leaning in across Stirling to peer ar Rhona, Caru's lime green eyes became heavy and she inhaled a little raggedly, all smiles and laughter.

"Seriously though, he's trouble. Insane, and desperate for validation. Who cares about a fucking Tremere and his poorly wrist? Boo hoo. And where's my drink... Stirling?" She reached abortively for his whiskey, halted at his knuckles, and just pawed at them subconsciously.

"Rhona be careful. I couldn't talk to you properly before in the forest, because of him. That blood mage is dabbling in things he shouldn't, and he'll take you down with him."

[Jean-Jacques]

Jean-Jacques puts down his book, rises from his seat and walks cross the bar towards where the three kindred are seated

His book, coat and brandy remained behind.

He stops face the booth and first turns to face Caru

“Ancilla Caru, i had not seen your arrival, I am delighted to see you“

don’t say safe and well.....

“And neonate Rhona, a pleasure”

He then turns to Stirling

“I should introduce myself “

What the fuck am I supposed to say these nights, what a mess, I’ll go with the architects suggestion

“Neonate Jean-Jacques Marchaux, clan Brujah”

What a fucking mess!

[Rhona]

Rue had been seconds from relenting, about to explain at least some of the details of what happened that night. As she opened her mouth, she saw Jean-Jacques’ approach and promptly closed it again, leaning back from Caru. The whispers could wait.

Still unsure of how to act around what she had emphatically been told was still a brujah, she settled for a bright smile and half wave, removing her hat to set it on the table in front of her.

“Jean-Jacques! How are you feeling? It’s been some time, no?”

[Stirling Montgomery]

Stirling growled audibly, thudding both boots back up on the table and reaching over Caru to root around in his coat. Retrieving a cigar, he gestured widely at their surroundings before lighting it with a match.

"Fuck it, let's have the whole town playin' nice and ruinin' what promised to be a good night. Pull up a chair, Marcheux. Don't you dare be borin' or I'll be forced to make some fun."

His eyes flashed and he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. He'd given up his drink to Caru when she pawed at his hand even though she had her own waiting on the table. She had never been a fan of scotch, in any case. Marcheux could have that. Stirling's free hand still rested heavily on Caru's waist, his fingers tapping impatiently against her hip.

[Caru]

"Don't you give me that!" Caru scolded. "Mister Marcheux I called out your name across the bar, and you looked up. I saw you smile. Don't pretend you just noticed me."

But she's smiling, all glittering eyes and a smouth that wanted to grin.

"Hey, I'd say sit with us but there's no room over here." She juts her chin out to the chairs opposite them. "Are you drinking? We are in a bar so I'm gussing so. I had a bit before I arrived, and hopefully I'll be winding up in a warm bed tonight with a warmer body. So I'm feeling affectionate with talk tonight. Join us. Can't say the same for Stirling but..." she reared her head back enough to look at her brother, still flush to his hip.

"But, you did just interrupt something pretty important." She skewers Rhona with a look. "So wait, let me get this straight, a Tremere told you not to share information with your clanmates? Is that what happened - and you... listened?"

The mirth's faded from that expression. "What's going on, Rhona?" She spare a look to the Brujah. "No details right now. But I mean, with the Tremere. What are you now, his pooch?"

[Jean-Jacques]

Jean-Jaques smiles, and takes a seat opposite the three.

He gestures the waiter to bring his brandy, and sets it down on the table before him.

He smiles at the suggesting of avoiding being boring

“I shall attempt to uphold to those standards”

At the mention of tremere clan

“I myself have had a fortunate escape from their clutches, I don’t recommend becoming too close”

[Rhona]

“I don’t know if he thinks of it that way. And no, I’m not fucking him before you ask. I’ve had to answer that a lot lately - I am allowed to be good at my job, as it happens.” Despite her words, she still smiles.

“And I’m not withholding anything on his behest. It was a...court decision. You’ve shared with me in the past, so for now I can tell you that some folks came out of that night better than others.”

Her eyes were focused on Caru as she spoke, and she made sure not to look at Jean-Jacques. She hoped the ancilla would take the hint - the Brujah joining them would make things a little less easy, especially given she had actually been willing to talk about it.

“As for Dukes, of course I don’t trust him. I don’t think I trust anyone, really. I know he’s broken in ways I can’t even really understand - he told me a surprising amount when...well when he was vulnerable. And I got the feeling he wasn’t lying. I was told to be a good listener by my sire, so that’s what I do.”

[Stirling Montgomery]

"He speaks! And some truth, for all that's worth." Stirling chuckled around his cigar, looking to Rhona and scoffing at her response.

"Hey, at least you'd be getting something out of it if you were fucking him. Oh, you got a job? They pay you?"

Stirling interjected but growled again as Rhona described Duke's state of mind.

"Vulnerable? Shit, well I don't know if it's better to think the old man is playin' you or to assume that all the Elders in this domain are broken in some secret way. Usually I would tell you to wake up and smell the coffee if you thought that a Cainite of his age and standing were confiding in you - but who fuckin' knows what goes in this city."

Stirling's last words were mocking and cruel but a real anger lay behind them.

"Fuck this sect."

He drew deeply on his cigar and settled back a little more into Caru, his hand running up and down the small of her back as he reigned in his Beast.