If you think I'm going down in those sewers.. [Attn: Tithe]

[Rapture]

You don't find a Nosferatu.

They're not a set of missing keys. Nobody misplaced them and forgot where they were, except possibly Caine and he wasn't telling.

No, you make the pretense of looking. You make a show of it, so as not to insult them. You let them feel your inability and then you wait. Eventually they show up. They always do, especially for the Ventrue. They can't resist the opportunity to let you know that while you can't find them, they can always find you.

So the word was out in the cracks and crevices. Darcy O'Driscoll was looking for Jack to talk about strange things that had been going on. He could be found in Elysium, perched on a chair, impeccable black suit without the flair of a toreador and without the library dust or stench of awkwardness of a Tremere.

[Maggie]

((I'm hijacking this thread, if you'd prefer I didn't just let me know and I can move my post to a separate one! ))

Cat has dragons to slay.
Cat has devils to exorcise.
She has a King to return to a throne.
She has vengeance to exact on a maw.

Cat has a lot of things to do, but out of all the things that she has to do, stalking a certain Ventrue was numero uno on her list. There is no air of subtlety to the Malkavian when it comes to the methods by which she seeks out things and people. It was as if blunt was the only way she knew and so in everything she did there was no mistaking what or who she needed or wanted or required.

So, for the Nosferatu, she had spray painted on sewer lids across the city various letters. These letters were just graffiti to most, but the mind of a long dead thing who has centuries to consider a rubix cube ...would decode it easily.

By the names of the streets on which the sewer lids were located, descending from A-Z. Spelling them out would say W E N E E D 2 T L K @ L A K E.

So if stalking this Ventrue had gotten up to #1 on her to-do list, waiting at the lake for Jack was a close second.

But right now, right that minute, she's watching this Ventrue. Studying him. Facial expressions and mannerisms. The style of dress. She sits in a corner, in the shadows, and just watches him as if at any moment little pink hearts might burst and blossom around her head.

Which, is a scary thought in and of itself. No one wants a Malkavian stalker with a crush.

Night after night, for at least an hour, she sits and just ...watches. If he tries to approach her she'll wrap herself up in a cloak of invisibility and make for the exit.

[tithe]

Jack! Nobody's Jack. Jack of Heart and Jack of not Spades because Spades are for digging and burial and no not Spades. Not Diamonds - he's not wealthy so's you'd know it, not that kind of bloodied. But perhaps clubs? He could be clubs if Heart(s) wasn't available. The point is: Jack. The Jack. The current Jack of the Nosferatu part of a hand the Camarilla plays is playing [he'd rather be anything but a Jeck, although Heckle and Jeckle have been on his mind]. Jack of friends high and low, of a multiplicity of eyes.

He hears Darcy O'Driscoll from someone or other and maybe he even gets a call or a text ring-a-ling to that effect while he is regarding with bemusement [Cloaked in a general Air of Obfuscation and Invisibility, of Don't Walk Here, Look Over There, Nothing To See, Nobody's Near] the graffitti on the sewer lids.

He hasn't exactly had centuries upon centuries, if we are being modest and truthful, to consider a rubiks cube (why? When one can just take the stickers off and re-arrange them?), but he figures it out eventually. What kind of Jack would he be if he didn't like puzzles and riddles and secret things that nobody else is interested in or are only interested in come a certain hour of the night just after another hour of the night drenched itself in red.

[ooc: I'ma try to get both of you for scenes in-chat which I always prefer to forums! But if that doesn't work out in the next couple days I'll post Jack Actually Here.]