Trying to Get Home

[Valentina Audley]

As Daciana and Ailith argue, Valentina folds her hands in her lap and lapses into quiet stillness, watching them. When Uriah verbally wades in she shrinks inwards, remembering a different time at a different party when people started falling out.

As the conversation turns to discussing court positions she relaxes a little, Daciana's interest in Uriah even bringing a spark of interest into her aura.

She listens politely to everyone's opinions. smiling cheerfully at Dukes suggestion that Clan Toreador get every role assigned to them.

That said, her knowledge of Tremere is limited, so she stays quiet, listening politely to the rest of the gathering and occassionally glancing at the door, wondering if and when Prestwick will make an appearance.

[Anton]

"Is she gone yet?" a voice mumbles from the doorway, as Anton peeks his head around the corner. "Oh. Good."

The boy who enters looks to be in his very early twenties. A mop of dark chestnut hair frames an elfin face with a pointy chin, and as Anton raises his hand to pat ineffectually at his head, the hair looking wilder than ever, his attempts to make it lay flat do absolutely nothing.

Freckles dust the boy's pale nose and above, are two very large, very worried green eyes. Emphasised by an old pair of enormous wire-rimmed glasses.

"Err. Forgive me Elders," he brings himself to an abortive halt, "I didn't realise there was quite so... many of you..." he trailed off, as he spots Daciana. Shock and confusion floods his aura, and the boy's gaze turns hazy, the jaw slightly slack in question.

He blinked and recovered fast, dragging his gaze away. "My name is Anton Kilner. I'm a Malkavian, a Neonate, Prince Fortescue's Childe, and currently looking for smelling salts. That or an excuse to stay downstairs for a while."

"Hello again Sheriff. Envoy Audley." He nods to each without making eye contact. He pointedly ignored the Brujah.

"I don't think I have met anyone else..." he took his attention to the ground, meekly. Although threw a desperate look to Dukes' shoulder, right before someone else caught his attention.

"Oh! Nevermind: hello, Dad. You're so quiet. I didn't feel you." Anton frowned, as if that was bad news. "How strange. You know what, I knew something was off tonight. Raife's upstairs by the way."

[Posh-Tim]

Keane had been sitting slightly stunned by Ailith's antagonised exit. Uriah really had poked a bear there and he was hoping that he would be far away when the inevitable conclusion of that encounter occurred.
With all the talk of best clans for court roles he was struggling to keep up with a lot of the suggestions. He felt it time he joined in to pass something off as sage wisdom;
"I think on the matters of such court positions, the best roles are clear:-"

Then Anton walks in,

Keane stops, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly agape. When Anton finishes speaking he flusters about himself for a moment. He looks at Jean-Jacques sat next to him and so gestures at the nearest chair, adjacent to the couch they are sat upon.
"What? Yes. Well. Um. Sit down Anton." further waving at the chair. "Why are you here? Of course, the storm. You should have come down sooner. Raife is upstairs? Well hopefully he's resting. Were you at the Lupercalia gathering, I didn't see you there."
All of this comes out at a bit of a stumbled flurry. Toward the end he tries to inject a note of sterness in his voice but the look he gives Anton is one of concern and worry.

[Daciana]

Daciana's metaphorical ears perk up as Anton enters; she appreciates pretty eye candy, no matter the form. And while her boys were bickering outside on which stable suited whose horse, or how to unload her stuffed suitcase, Daciana decided to enjoy the time she had. Once Anton announces his Clan that mellows gently and becomes less predatory, for attention; she looks to settle for simply enjoying the additional aesthetic to the room.

Daciana had fully intended on sitting back and letting introductions be made. But as she studies Anton more a penny drops. Her expression turns blank, and she looks to be very tightly controlling her emotions: her aura leaks surprise and, increasingly, anxiety.

But her tone betrays nothing. "Oh, this one is somehow yours?" she says with humoured gusto, glancing to Keane. "Primogen of his, I presume?"

"I am Elder Daciana, of Clan Toreador. Come on in, pet."

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina hastily chokes down a giggle as Anton addresses Keane as 'dad', though amusement does suffuse her aura and she looks to Keane with a smile.

She listens as both Keane and Daciana speak and then quietly adds her own greeting, smiling politely at Anton. "Good evening Neonate Kilner. I trust you are well?"

[Anton]

Anton is trying to look at anything except the Brujah or - mountingly - the looming blob that is named Uriah, where he sits like the proverbial Miss Muffet's Spider, a Torador-shaped pain, or a canyon into the void of all things good, into which all of Anton's sense of rational security was falling. He could feel that damn aura from here.

Because the Methuselah is so close - a sensation like glass under the skin of Anton's beast - he doesn't immediately notice Jean Jaques, sat as he is on the wrong seat.

"Thank you all. And hello and well met to you Elder Daciana."

"Uhh, I've been better actually," Anton concedes to Valentina. "But we avoided everything with Lupercalia so, I'm better than some? What happened is: soon as we walked in we basically walked right on out. Raife wanted to hang there longer - sorry, this was Friday you see, we got there early to find a decent room..ssss, two rooms! - and then he was chatting with some of the Ventrue transporting the cup. But I could feel something was up. And Raife's not that hard to convince to leave."

Anton takes the gestured seat and only then notices Jean Jaques sat immediately across from him. Anton's expression closes off.

But to his credit, he simply ignores him, forcing his head away to address Keane.

"We couldn't come down earlier. We were... resting."

[Lady Grace]

As Anton talks to Valentina Grace is actually smiling, she leans slightly towards Ancilla Audley into Anton's eyeline.

"Neonate, I have some Oil of Cloves upstairs which would do for rousing your 'friend' I am sure."
Grace smiles and waits.

[Anton]

Anton pauses, and goes tense.

He opens his mouth partway, his face contorting into an expression one might wear just before they say something - and then doesn't.

He strains a little more, buying time - hoping some elder says something before he does. Then he could pretend that he hadn't had time to reply.

[Uriah]

Uriah smiles, a wide, predatory grin. At last, a Neonate, his favourite toy.
"Neonate Kilner, how nice of you to join us. I do hope your companion is well. Should he need it I am sure that Primogen Granville here would be only to pleased to fetch the Clove Oil to him for merely a trivial boon. In the meantime though. We had been discussing, I don't know if you heard, which clan suits best for each of the positions of court. I should like to hear your opinion, start with the Prince and provide your reasons concisely please."
His aura is alive with a smug satisfaction and delight. This one looks far more amusing than that weird Brujah childe thing.

[Anton]

"Thank you Prince, kindly, Prince," Anton mumbles warily, his eyes on his shoes. There's really no point in being relieved; he's been the subject of this sort of thing before, and it never went well.

However, it did give him the means of not speaking directly to The Other One.

"I am very grateful to the Primogen but my companion is totally allergic to cloves," he addresses Uriah's lapels, but slowly looks up. "Thanks a lot though. With everything that's happening lately, I don't think it best to be racking up prestation. I won't be able to answer to it, as I think I'll be in and out of England. So Raife can continue dreaming his life away."

As for the next..

"Uhhh."

Anton licks his lower lip nervously. "Umm. I don't think I am in any position to pass judgement or opinion on such esteemed matters as domain leadership your majesty...?"

"I think...?"