2024.09.21: Storm Ophelia

The events of 09/21/24-09/22/24 had a profound impact on the kindred of New Albion. They are preceded by  Fake IDs and fateful decisions and  The abduction of Lizzy McCrory.

## Part 1: The Storm

The city's camera grid is down. Graffiti artists, led by Abigail Parkes, have already found out and are rallying to "create art" (see below). Meanwhile, a sudden, entirely unexpected tropical storm descends on New Albion.

*This is Channel 12, serving New Albion 24 hours a day with our award winning coverage. From the Metro Park to NAU, North Albion to Hibernia, THIS is Channel 12.*

**RED WEATHER WARNING - RED WEATHER WARNING - RED WEATHER WARNING**
A serious-looking man stands in front of a bluescreen map of New Albion.

"And now to take a look at the Metro area. Folks, tropical storm Ophelia is causing serious disruption, with heavy rainfall measured by NAU observatory at around 30mm an hour and visibility down to feet or less in places.

"Coast Guard has issued an advisory for all vessels, while the mayor’s office has spoken to the Governor with regard to possible risk of breach in flood defenses. Right now, all non-essential travel should be avoided, with residents advised to stay indoors and await further updates."

"To address this crazy conspiracy theory, no, the weather system did not 'materialize from nowhere'. Folks, this is the Gulf coast. Sometimes rough weather just happens. In the meantime, let’s go to Travis Peake, who is on the Midtown Bridge. Travis? Can you hear me? Travis?..."

Reports soon begin to emerge of "sewer monsters" in the road and storm drains. Cameras continue to be down, and the graffiti kids continue to run amok around the city districts.

## Part 2: The Move

Ophelia makes things difficult for the kindred. Taking control of the situation, Toliver deals with the Sabbat, while Cerriphan deals with the graffiti kids. Gavin Sheridan spends a second night stuck at the news station, while Doris Valeria Ashview tries to hold everyone's shit together until the storm passes.

* Blue Devil Bar
* Bon Vivant District
* Ventrue Territory
* Blue Devil Bar 2

*This is Channel 12, serving New Albion 24 hours a day with our award winning coverage. From the Metro Park to NAU, North Albion to Hibernia, THIS is Channel 12.*
*2am*
The blonde anchor, Carly Behr is back; once again, mic has changed jacket sides.
"... Thanks, Tom, for that update on storm Ophelia. Heavy rainfall still being measured by NAU observatory tonight across New Albion, with civil authorities urging citizens to stay in their homes. In particular, citizens are asked not to hamper flood defense teams, who Channel 12 understands will be out surveying the storm drains tonight as part of the city’s tidewater protection plan. If y’all are working out there tonight, we salute the brave men and women of our emergency services.
"Earlier tonight our man on the street Travis Peake was on the Midtown Bridge. Travis, where are you now?"
Cut to a man who is far too drenched to speak, desperately clutching a mic while trembling in wet clothes. He looks somewhere out near the New Albion Riverwalk, but times his mouth to open just as a massive sheet of water batters him
"Travis Peake, there. Y’all know we have saying in Texas: if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute. Tonight you may want to wait a little more.
"Sport, now, and we turn to the aftermath of the Padres’ shock defeat against the Giants..."

**RED WEATHER WARNING - RED WEATHER WARNING - RED WEATHER WARNING**
*2.45am*
"You’re with us on Channel 12 throughout the night, I’m Carly Behr. Our top story: during the past half-hour, tropical storm Ophelia has been downgraded to Amber warnings after a marked drop in wind speed and precipitation. In case you hadn’t noticed it is still rainin’ out there, but the good news is things seem to have blown themselves out. Travis Peake has more..."
A shivering, water-logged man in a poncho looks at the camera with the silent desperation of a drowning rat. He takes a moment to compose himself, flicking his hair from his red-raw skin. Behind the rain has faded significantly. He smiles, and opens his mouth to speak... just as a bunch of kids run past, waving spray cans and laughing. Faces bob up and down out of focus in front of the lens, as the image cuts back to the studio.
"We’ll check in with Travis later. For now, I can confirm New Albion University Observatory is reporting rainfall has slipped to 6mm an hour as Ophelia heads inland. Travel advisory remains in effect, and city engineers are working to maintain utilities.
"Y’all stay with us as we keep you updated on everything you need to know, including traffic updates and any reported school closures. For now, though, it looks like New Albion has shown just what it learned from Harvey when the hurricane hit during the downtown construction project seven years ago.
"In national news, a Florida man has been making headlines after an unusual approach to drying his laundry backfired to the tune of almost half a million dollars. Helicopter pilot Cyrus Duval..."

**AMBER WEATHER WARNING - AMBER WEATHER WARNING - AMBER WEATHER WARNING**
*5.57am*
"... You're tuned to Channel 12. Welcome back to the final segment of our show, I’m Carly Behr, good morning. Our top story this hour: Ophelia over and out - all warnings are expected to be dropped by 10am this morning following the passing of Tropical Storm Ophelia.
"Rescue workers continue to be pressed to limits due to fallen trees and storm debris, including the retrieval of a large portion of a southern oak that was blown down Francis P. Henderson drive and into the adjacent storm drain. To date there have been no confirmed fatalities and New Albion General reports only a slight increase in ER visits caused by the storm.
"In a statement issued by her office, Mayor Jessica Hornwood praised FEMA and town planners for their “thorough preparation” during the city’s construction, adding: “It is testimony to 21st century planning, architecture and the dedication of our emergency services that this vibrant, modern city did not blink in the face of the unexpected.” This following confirmation that there will be no road closures, diversions or rail suspensions today, and that all civic buildings and schools will be open as usual on Monday."
The anchor turns and drops the newsy section, switching to informal chat mode.
"And thank mercy; got a football match to go to today and I spent all yesterday working on my special triple fudge cupcakes for the tailgate, I’d have hated for ‘em to go to waste. Time check, it’s just coming up to 6am on Sunday, 22 September. Travis Peake joins us now in the studio. Looks like you’ve had quite the night, Travis..."

**AMBER WEATHER WARNING - AMBER WEATHER WARNING - AMBER WEATHER WARNING**
*2.15am*
Night of the storm the thoroughly drenched Toliver enters the bar. His trench coat and brimmed hat barely wicking the storm off of him. He stands at the entry way slowly shaking the the excess water off of himself. His normal entourage is not following him. Once he takes the tranch coat and hat off and hangs them up he finds a seat at the bar. His wet boots squeaks on the tiles as he move to the bar.
Doris is Brooding at her table. She is doing something by hand, no laptop in evidence. There is an overall sense of rumpled about her, as if she has been couch surfing and living out of a suitcase.
"Penny for your thought, dear."
"I quit." Absentmindedly.
"I have nights like that, often. I'll pour you a Scotch and you can tell me about it."
At this, the door opens loudly, and a tall man enters, water dripping from the back of his knee length overcoat. He looks around the bar and sits - quietly withdrawing a black book, consulting it. The smile on his face is cheerful enough but somehow... off.
"And now the excise man?" Doris inadvertently shows her age at the appearance of someone she does not know and who strikes her as odd. "I absolutely quit now, Father."
He strips his overcoat, revealing the vestments of a priest. "Hardly the excise man, my child. Though why my appearance should make you quit is beyond me."
"Amn't y'r annehthin'," she retorts. The burr and the outdated language seems equally reflexive.
"Peace Doris," Toliver says in the old tone he first used when they first met. He turns to the priest and says, "It is raining the Dickens out there, Padre. We are closed due to the weather, but we can humor your request."
"It certainly is, thank you. I had heard this was a safe shelter from the storms that pass." You notice his eyes flash an almost sapphire blue from over his white collar.
"You would think, but this is not a night to be out. I can call a car for you, but the travel will be slow. So let's get to it. Who are you and what can we help you with," his questioning tone has an edge caution to it.
Doris progresses from Brood to quasi-Sulk. But she holds her tongue.
"Father Alastor Cromwell." He extends his hand in greeting. "At the moment, shelter would suffice, though I had planned to stay a while." He clearly knows precisely where he is.
Toliver will take the hand and extend two fingers up onto Cromwell's wrist and shake his hand. "I can offer you a drink if you are allowed." ((Checking for pulse))
There is no pulse to detect, but the response was "A drink would be lovely, if one is available." The implication should be clear.
"Clan then," he asks as he releases his grip of the guest.
A smile. "My family name is Giovanni, though through my mother's side."
"Any connection to the Patti branch?" Idle question.
Toliver looks to Doris to see her reaction. his is blank.
He turns to the small woman "unnae wealchildren in'r'nd?"
"The Patti branch ... it rings a bell, but there is no direct connection.'
The question is met with a snort and an eyeroll. She replies to the statement. "So you are not here visiting family."
"I travel as the Spirit moves me."
"It is an ill spirit that moved you to this place," Doris remarks darkly.

The bar phone - whatever is listed in the online directory - rings::
"So it would seem." Quiet. "Though if the offered drink is an option, still..."
"Perhaps you simply need an exorcism."
Toliver lets the phone ring, and pours the man an Irish Whiskey, and two glasses of Scotch. He passes the Whiskey to Cromwell and then brings Doris one of the Scotches before he drinks his.
The ringing stops.
The ringing starts again.
The Priest raises his glass to the two people, and takes a deep smell of the whisky, smiling as he does so, he takes a sip. "Thank you, both."
Toliver sips his drink and waits for the phone to stop ringing before he takes it off the hook.
He turns to the woman. "Now, if evil spirits are a problem... well, you know my family's reputation."
"I am not a fan of the way your family goes about its business from what I have seen of them. The dead deserve more respect."
Doris gets up and moves to the bar phone. "Blue Devil. We are closed this evening due to the weather."
"I have great respect for the dead." Again, that grin. "Could'nae do my job - n'or respect myself, without it."
"Have him call the..." Doris slams down the handset. "Blood and ash."
"Worse'n evil spirits?"
"Children. Possibly worse." Doris rubs her face.
"Hardly worse, madame. Perhaps equal."
"Pardon me a moment." Doris excuses herself.
Doris returns, looking disgruntled. "We need some assets on the ground I can trust and can use alternate means of communication with." This is addressed to Toliver.
"For what Doris. You can't spring things on me without details."
"Monsters in the streets. Francis P. Henderson drive, headed towards a storm drain. I should get to the office." Doris looks a little more drained than before she stepped away.
"Oh...and a bunch of kids playing at street artists. I quit."
He pulls out his phone and a goes to his trench coat and retrieves a box, a phone box with a "X" on it. "Get the car and be out front. I will be there in a few minutes." He hangs up and stops Doris and hands her the box,. "this is for your Childer, to replace the one I broke. It is silver. Give it to him or use it yourself for now, I don't care. Just teach him manners before someone who give less than a care to the world ashes his ass. Now tell me where to go."
"I need more...everything." Doris accepts the box, then shrugs helplessly. "I need to call the police, see if they can round up the kids. You need a team, possibly two. Where the hell is everyone?"
"Not here," came the sudden voice, "not me recently. Coming at the beckoning bells and sounding out sweet colors..."

Cerriphan was good at her appearing act. But her visage had returned more haggard, less rosy and more eerie. "Here, here, by Good graces."
"Oh. Good. You are all right." A slight lessening of the stressed expression on Doris' face.
"Hey Cerri. Glad to see you are safe," Toliver says warmly. Something Doris has rarely seen.
A crinkling of eyes conjured up a smile for Toliver, approaching with an unsteady gait. "Yes, alright. Yes, Dame. Hello, friend."
Now she addressed the man, head thumping against his shoulder. "Hmm. Family business is still having left unfinished, but I am coming at friend's calling. This water is thicker than blood."
Toliver puts his glass down and steps to Cerriphan and picks her up in a hug. "You must be shivering, let me help you warm up."
The motion set her into something brighter, a girlish shriek following a squeaky giggle. "Being careful or I will going into the clouds and being really cold!"
"Not in my arms, Cerri, " he says before bringing her face to face with him. He then plants a chaste kiss upon the Seer's forehead. "I missed you."
She pouted, but it quickly cleared away by the smooch. "I was missing you too. Too far away! Dreadful business to having with dreadful family. What is having happening here? Everything is sounding dreary."
"Doris needs to explain before this fellow goes stomping off into the streets."
"Which bit? The bit where Marcus managed to fuck up so spectacularly it will be a wonder his own people continue to admit he is one of them? The bit where Lizzy was kidnapped by a coterie of unpleasant women? The storm?" Doris is now waving her hands around as if to indicate that everything has happened, it is all terrible, and she is completely exasperated.
Toliver puts Cerri down safely as his face grows darker. When he looks at Doris the flames of war color his eyes, "Details woman!"
"Which problem do you want to solve? I do not have time to tell you everything all at once!" Almost a snarl back. Doris is not backing down. "I am doing my best right now and I have yet to get fully briefed on our defenses so I can address the problem with the full might at my disposal."
Cerriphan didn't appear to register it at all, unblinking in her smile. It was, however, a frozen state.
"Lizzy-friend?"
"Get me up to date on the bullet points other than Marcus being a twit, and Lizzy in danger. We both new that shit was going to happen, deep down. Who are these Dark Women, and what does this storm have to do with it?"
"Elizabeth is safe. She has the week off, if not more time. After that, I look forward to seeing what else she is capable of." A tight grin. "She did well. A bit foolish because she lacks some information that would have been useful to her, but well enough."
A slight fizzle. "Oh, no." Some damp hair is pushed out of her eyes, looking more now toward Doris. "Am I able to helping? Business with family unfinished but this is having importance."
"I am uncertain if she would like to speak with anyone right now, but you could contact her? As to the rest, there are apparently monsters in the street and teenagers running about making art in a storm of biblical proportions." Doris pushes her own hair out of her face.
"Forty days and forty nights. Yes, storms. Dreadful. Will poking. Monsters in the streets? That is explaining a little of mine returning trip." Cerriphan faffed her arms about briefly.
"A monster. Perhaps. Without a functional security camera grid, I cannot see anything." Huffed annoyance. "Just what I am relayed from our eyes and ears in the newsroom and the police force."
"I will go then. Seems things have been getting out of hand," he says his anger still there, but it isn't focused on any in the room. "Tell Lizzy she knows how to reach me, Doris. I know you are over taxed, so I can't blame your worry. As for Marcus, I will let you deal with that issue as mine is a little more violent than would be less than appropriate right now, for a foolish neonate." He then pulls Cerri close to him and holds her for a moment saying softly, "I have to go do work, dear. I hold your regard you have for me in my heart. Stay safe." With that he lets her go and grabs his trench coat and large brimmed hat and exits the building, a Running SUV waiting for him to get into, and the man at the car doo handing the Myrmidon his harness with the steel spike bars on them. The Soldier has returned to the battlefield.
Cerriphan watched Toliver go, even as he'd already departed. It was akin to a puppy staring at the door as an owner left, and then melted into something more miserable and human.
"I will doing what I can to helping, Dame."
"I said not to go alone!" Doris yells at the retreating figure with the impotent irritation of a woman who knows she is wasting breath but feels obliged to make the gesture. "Damn the man," she grumbles, then moves to hug Cerriphan briefly and slightly awkwardly.
A hand settled against her shoulder, loudly declaring "Pat, pat!" as she gently thumped her palm against it.
Cerriphan still watched the door. "Should I going after him so he is not having to being alone?"
"Bastard. He is not technically alone, and will be difficult to catch now, but there are still the kids drawing graffiti to worry about. They are in danger from the flash flooding." A sigh. "I did not sign up for any of this."
"I will helping the children, then," she assured, "speaking of ill tidings and the terrors of their wandering minds coming to a cusp and seizing them in anxiety to returning home to mothers and fathers."
Ah, yes. Scaring them away.
"Good. Do you need me to try to contact anyone else to help? Sheridan is helping manage things at the television station." Doris takes a deep breath and exhales entirely unnecessarily, but it seems to help calm her.
A song plays from one of Cerriphan's pocket, vibrating as well to make sure she knows it is not just not her.
The woman shook her head, turning her attention to her rattling pocket to check up on her phone. Oh, woe?
"I can handling waywards. The lost and the driven are being mine specialties at the best of times."
The phone just says Toliver
Cerriphan fiddled with it, opening up the abysmal flip phone with a soft wheeze of confusion.
"Hello Cerri. Ask Doris where I am going, please, or give her the phone so I can ask her."
Cerriphan looked to Doris. "He is wanting to knowing where to going." Her voice shifted mildly, a spit of fire to her tone after. "I could having gone with you."
"I want you to help Doris, dear. I have people for the violent work. I need you for the cunning and crafty work, which Doris needs right now."
Glum. "I know."
" Also want you to be safer than I will be, I worry."
"Francis P. Henderson Drive heading to its storm drain. Last known location." Doris drags herself into Business Mode. "Abigail is apparently all over town, is that going to be difficult for you to manage?"
"Thank you Seneschal. Changing heading now. Care to say what I might be facing, so I can plan the firepower?"
Cerriphan remained mute and stone faced for the moment, phone held between in tightened fingers.
"I am here in the bar not in the field where I could be useful, Father." Doris snaps. "Sheridan said the caller said it was very large. If someone had not utterly failed at a simple surveillance task, I would have cameras to use to get more information. But I am cursed to not have nice things."
"And these Women what are they," there is a slight edge of concern in the voice before it breaks away from the phone all that can be heard is, "Thermite and phosphorous grenades, ladies and gents."
"The Sword. Technically they have done nothing but respond in kind. One of them is a witch. They have until tomorrow night to get out of my city before I utterly destroy them." Tense. Clearly whatever this Sabbat pack has done has tested Doris' patience to the limit.
Hector had chosen just that moment to enter with Deandrea at his heels. They both paused with concerned looks directed at Doris.
"That was what I was afraid of. Not saying you were wrong in thought, but does this have to do with Marcus and Lizzy?" His voice has found resolve, but their is an edge of doubt as well.
"They were supposed to surveil a suspected agent. Elizabeth got made, got coerced into essentially a kidnapping, and Marcus proceeded to be a stupid child." Doris is unflattering.
"Ok. Again tell Lizzy to call me if she wishes, after her break. Next and why are you super vexed with this pack?"
"They kidnapped my bartender and have rather handily made a wreck of my city. Do I need another reason?" Icily.
Not seeing any indication to warrant danger they walked in and, with Deandrea's help, both sat on a bar stool as far from the group as could be considered polite.
Cerriphan eyed Hector and Deandrea as she held the phone aloft to Doris, a curious look evident but not vocally questioning or greeting.
"Doris, your Alpha woman is showing. I know you it means you picked a fight and didn't out right win. So tell me who is the witch of the group?"
"Miss Rose. I was happy enough to let them stay for a cut of their profits as protection money, but no. They could not trust the political climate." Doris the gangster is a rather amusing image.
"They were trying to convert Elizabeth as well. So I am a touch irritated, all right?"
There is silences on the line, awkwardly so. Followed by a lot of foul language..... "The fucking Widows were in town, and they let you walk away, with Lizzy? They are all Blood Magicians and Scholars. What the hell are they doing in Texas? They were from Montreal," he is in shock you think and then he changes tone. "Shotguns with wooden flachette rounds. If we fight them we have to strike hard and fucking fast. Keep the grenades as well. Vozhd in play." The last bit you hear audible groans of worry from the others.
Hector perks up with an obviously concerned look on his face
"We have been collecting snowbirds. New Albion is also a place where people can open up shop and keep things quiet. Perhaps they just wanted to make money. I presume she was lying when she said they were not working with the asshole in the cathedral." Doris makes the universal "hang on a second" gesture in Hector's direction.
"They prefer subtlety and innuendo vs brute warparties. Blackmail and deviancy is their specialty. I can understand why you are angry," he says with a knowing tone of something unsaid.
"It was a kinkster club. All very tedious. I need a new sword and my motorcycle jacket got left behind as well." A tired sigh. "Talk to Cerriphan, Father. I have work to be doing."
"Be safe Doris," he says as he is give back to Cerriphan. "Hey keep each other safe. Is that ok Cerri?"
"I will doing my best. I am having children to ferrying away back to their homes." Cerriphan then uttered a string of words that would undoubtedly be considered German, but just a touch off colored. Soft and tenuous.
"Okay, okay. Seeing you soon, yes."
"Yes, you have my word. Going to be peaceful on my end. It is just a question if it will be peaceful on their end."
"I will praying that they are having sweet thoughts in the face of peace." Cerriphan bobbed her head. "Okay, I am going to closing the phone now."
"Ok, dear. Be safe and keep Doris focused and calm."
Doris turns her attention to Hector and Deandra. "Is everything all right?"
"Hmmhhm." Click. The flip phone snapped shut and she squirreled it away, shuffling feet.
"Not if your friend used the right word. A War Ghoul is not something any one should consider ok."
He was appalled and obviously a little afraid. The vozhd were dangerous, even to their masters. If one was here, then so to was the one that held its leash.
"I know. I have fought before. It -and its keeper- had best be getting out of my city before dawn tomorrow." There is the slightest tension in Doris' jaw. "They will find His Majesty far less merciful than I."
"You've known of it and let it abide?! The time and effort needed to create ONE of them is immense for several Masters, near impossible for a single person to accomplish, and you let it live here?! Who is the beasts master?"
His hands had begun to elongate as his tone become more irate.
"I just found out last night that it was here, and I remind you, sir, that you stand in a place of peace." Ice in her tone and she is clearly unafraid of the shifting child-sized Kindred. Apparently Tzimisce are in her wheelhouse. "I do not have a problem with people's heritage, I have a problem when they use that heritage to disrupt the peace."
Deandrea placed a gentle hand on her master.
He looked at her and immediately began to calm. His hands went back to normal and he took a moment with his eyes closed.
"My apologies."
"Forgiven. The matter is being dealt with." Doris untenses slightly.
" The vozhd became obsolete when humans began to mass produce gun powder. You'll need something bigger than 50 caliber if you plan to take it without injury."
His tone had softened.
"If you get the chance, kill the Master. Those who can control the War Ghoul are few, and their capacity for violence is far to conspicuous to allow them to keep living."
Veronica enters the bar. She is wearing tight black workout pants with red stripes down the sides and and unzipped hoodie, revealing a red workout halter top. Her fists are noticeably taped up and she is carrying a gym bag, in addition to being quite damp from the weather outside
swearing and muttering under her breath about the weather
"I told her to get the hell out of my town. If she stays, she is dead." Doris reiterates her ultimatum and its consequences. "Good evening, Miss Black."
“Hope you don’t mind me dropping in. I went to look at a gym I found near here, and I was looking for entertainment, but it seems that the storm has put a literal damper on everything.”
"At least when I pout I only destroy small things that sound nice when they smash." Dryly. Doris looks rumpled and put upon and fairly dead, but she also does not have any makeup on so perhaps that's it.
“I think I may buy a membership at that health club a few blocks from here. Nice workout space, and the clientele looks.....well, Based on the looks I was getting I could probably feed from those muscleheads in plain site and nobody would mind. They need some better pugilists there though....”
“Any updates?”
"If you need a sparring partner, let me know." Doris shrugs. "War ghouls potentially running amok in the sewers. This damn weather. Kids running about like idiots playing spraypaint tag. I quit. Nobody noticed or accepted my resignation."
Hector retreats, muttering to himself about getting ready and what modifications he could make to local wildlife.
Deandrea stays behind but she follows Hector with a concerned gaze.
“Wasn’t the spray paint your project?”
“I’ve never held any kind of office before, but I’m pretty sure that for our kind, resignation isn’t really something one does.”
"No. Some kid who writes on the internet advised all the n'ere-do-wells of the city that with the cameras out of commission it was a perfect time to make the city less sterile. Never mind God's judgment pouring down upon our heads and the risk of flash flooding..." The "get off my lawn" in her voice is palpable.
“I see. I must have misheard you when we spoke about graffiti murals the other night. These war ghouls sound like fun though.”
Deandrea spoke up.
"Forgive my intrusion but wouldn't that all serve as a very nice and tidy diversion? I only mention it because if there is a vzhod running around, the only way to keep it from being painfully obvious is to keep the humans busy in another fashion."
"The weather is too dangerous for them to be out in it. Also, the war ghoul or ghouls is out there. With the humans spraying graffiti on things. Which is not part of my plan to keep the other pack busy sniping at the residents of Chinatown." Doris clarifies a few things. "Otherwise, Doctor, I would absolutely agree that keeping them busy is an excellent idea."
Cerriphan makes a motion at Doris, before moving toward the door.
"Thank you, Cerriphan."
"Well, no. I meant that whomever is in control of the ghoul would have to have a pretty strong distraction to keep from immediately being noticed by every office within a mile or so. While I haven't seen one in a very long time, I remember them being nearly twelve feet tall and looking like something H.R. Geiger wouldn't be able to dream up. If they hit the surface, all they will do is destroy and eat. Even with a natural disaster, that kind of thing is hard to disguise. If it were going to accomplish anything save destruction for destructions sake, opposition would need to be nonexistent or the ghouls would simply rampage randomly."
She sat, absentmindedly smoothing the invisible wrinkles of her skirt.
Doris purses her lips. "The pack of Brujah warriors ought to keep everyone sufficiently distracted. Yes?"
"Yes Mistress."
Deandrea stood and bowed showing off centuries of training and experiance in self preservation. Her movements were sharp and made to be pleasing.
"Please excuse me."
She hurried off after Hector.
"Poor things. To live so long in fear..." There is...empathy? in Doris voice.
starts digging around in her gym bag “Things must be very complicated if you’re considering telling Brujah War Boys to cause a “distraction.””
"Their leader answers to Justicar bell...and he volunteered himself. And them. Idiots." Disgruntled.
“You know, one of those most timid Kindred I’ve ever associated with was a Brujah.”
“Still, Mr. Hastings was not without his talents., and it was his Sire that taught me to draw even more strength from the blood.”
"Toliver is not prone to violence. He is just quite good at it when he has to be. You might tolerate him." Doris has no illusions.
“I can tolerate anyone, darling, provided I am shown proper courtesy. Manners cost nothing, after all.”
"He is polite. Courtesy for courtesy." Doris finally sets down the box she has been holding onto. "And discourtesy in kind."
“I know it is rare for Caine’s Roses, but I even have good relations with the Nosferatu. One of my closest allies is the Nosferatu Primogen of Dayton, back in Ohio. I’ve also sold them quite a few lovely paintings and sculptures over the years. Some of the finest pieces I’ve ever seen hang in sewers.”
“It sounds as though this Toliver and I will get along quite well.”
"I generally try to have a good working relationship with most other Kindred. Drink?" Doris moves behind the bar. Something to do while she waits for news.
“Please, that would be delightful.” finishes digging around in her gym back and pulls out one of her combat knives, then sets to cutting the tape from her fists
“I had hoped to sample one of Ms. McCrory’s cocktails, but I see that she remains indisposed.”
"I gave her a week off. It seemed reasonable, considering. What can I mix for you?"
“A martini would be wonderful. Dirty, if you please.” (You may have noticed Veronica has quite the taste for olives)
finishes cutting the tape from her hands and stashes her Sniper back in her gym bag
Doris goes about formulating a dirty martini. While lacking Lizzy's flair, the Siren's movements are elegant and precise. It is pleasant to watch. Additional olives are left on the bar in a little dish because Doris is situationally deaf, not blind.
smiles pleasantly and takes a sip, upon which her smile widens
traces a finger around the rim of the glass, then pops an olive in her mouth
"So I can keep my job?" Doris smirks.
“Like I said, resignation is not a luxury our kind is often afforded.”
“While I am loathe to add something else that needs your attention, there is a matter that I had hoped to discuss with you.”
"Very well. What is one more difficulty?" An eloquent shrug. Doris pours herself a measure of scotch from the safe-for-her marked bottles and proceeds to nurse it as if it was not.
“It relates to the other night’s operation, to retrieve Ms. McCrory. Tell me, Seneschal, when was the last time you employed the services of a professional assassin?”
"I have not needed anyone assassinated for quite some time." Honest. "I started out this life as a very specialized sort of assassin, however."
“Are you still?”
"I left that life behind. Nobody should be murdered simply because he exists." Quietly, punctuated by another sip of scotch.
“Of course not. I’ve been slitting throats for centuries, from the brigands I lured out of taverns after I had gained my freedom, to the so-called ubermensch who believed themselves superior to all others, even a Prince among the Kindred. There was always a reason though. If not to feed, because they had done something someone else was willing to pay good money to see them meet their end, never without reason.”
"Why do you ask?"
“I ask because there are certain concessions one generally makes when one calls upon a professional such as myself. Concessions involving the sharing of basic information.”
"As soon as His Majesty has fully briefed me on all particulars concerning field operations and readiness status, I will be certain to share the relevant intel with you." Another sip. "I cannot do my job if I keep blundering along like this."
“That’s not the sort of information I’m speaking of. The other night I was left almost completely out of the information loop concerning the night’s operation. Basic things, like the nature of the “asset” we were extracting, who “Red Queen” was, et cetera.”
takes a sip of her drink
“I am not part of His Majesty’s organization, or even been in town for long. There are things I need to be aware of, or I cannot fulfill my contract.”
“Such gaps are not only mildly insulting, but potentially deadly. I cannot abide by them, and I sense that you will be calling on my particular skills quite often in the nights to come, yes? If I am to perform adequately, I can’t be excluded from basic information sharing.”
"I would have thought the reference to my callsign would have been obvious from looking..." Doris smirks faintly. "I am redheaded, have more capacity to move swiftly than the king, and can be sacrificed to win the game. As to the rest, I apologize. I thought I had mentioned Elizabeth. It will not occur twice and if you would like prestation in addition to my word to amend the fault, simply tell me what you deem worth reparations."
“It was between you and the woman in the red corset, it was quite a noticeable piece of clothing.”
“No reparations are required, darling. I can tell that your responsibilities weigh heavy on you so such lapses are understandable, if not inevitable. Although I will admit that I have become more like my mask over the long nights, I am no diva. I would ask only for future vigilance.”
Veronica chuckles and finishes her drink
“Although, if it is a parking attendant you want, I wouldn’t hire me for the job. I’m much too expensive for that.” grins
"I was expecting to need an extraction team." Doris smirks slightly.
“That you did not speaks to your prowess as a negotiator. I’d have liked to have seen it. Most of my negotiations involve knuckling up.”
“They say that the deadliest blades are the ones that never have to leave their sheaths. It doesn’t bother me to have remained sheathed, but I do detest being kept in the dark, despite it being the home of our kind.”
"As I also generally detest being in the dark, I shall ensure neither of us is caught short like this again." Doris moves to start mixing another martini.
“Chalk it up to the growing pains of a new business relationship. It always takes time to get to know new partners. It certainly took the Bratva a while to learn that they couldn’t beat me in a drinking contest. Of course, I didn’t tell them I had the luxury of cheating.” she says with an amused grin
"There are so many questions I know better than to ask."
“Well, it served as a way to show them that I could handle the job they’d hired me for. I don’t have the look of an assassin, and it’s usually an asset, but the Bratva thought I lacked the strength to complete the contract.”
“So, he produces this large bottle of extremely top shelf vodka and says “Come, tovarisch, we will drink and see if you truly are the Vermillion I have heard the stories of.”
“So I drank him under the table, tossed the empty bottle up and shot it out of the air. He was convinced.” laughs
"Others of our kind lead such interesting lives..." There is only mild skepticism and perhaps only as a straightman.

“Well, it’s almost a requirement. How else can one remain interested over the centuries?”
*2.37am*
The night of Ophelia the storm is dying down. The rain is still constant and visibility is still crap, but the winds have slowed a little. Seem the Tremere on the payroll have taking some of the bite of it. Kenna grins as she sit atop a building watching her target. The Pack known as the Widows made a promise of leaving the city in 48 hours, and the Scourge is making sure it happens, Gordon's orders.
The company strike teams were in position, and Rooke himself took the field as well. If things went south it will be on her terms. Oppressive fire fields of tracer rounds and flare grenades would ash the world. Brufold and his team were on standby for counter Magic duty, and 6 sniper teams had the three Sabbat lined up for head shots, double tapping each of them. These are professionals on Gordon's payroll and worth every penny spent.
The issue was the one called Rose was looking straight at Kenna and made sure the Gangrel knew she was being watched. It didn't bother here, but what concerned her was the 5 cattle trailers lined up with open tailgates, and what was their mattresses, dirty with grime, blood and waste. The Scourge's uncertainty carried an unknown sense of dread. Her Gordon would be displeased if he knew of it and so she willed it away. That was until the call came in from Rooke.

"We have contact, 5 Black SUVs converging on site. They match the description of the Myrmidon and his crew. Stop them or let them through?"
A sneer crossed Kenna's face in disgust as she retorts, "Let the Justicar boys come through. Kill them if they try to cause issues."
"Rodger. Keep you... <gurgle>" The radio goes silent and seems to be ripped away and a British accent crosses the radio
"Scourge, this is Henderson with the Myrmidon. We are here to make sure the Accord is followed through on this peaceful extraction. Sorry to take out this team you have here. It was bloodless and there are no causalities on either side. So if we are both on the same thing we should work together. If not just know the Myrmidon is next to you with a shotgun full of wooden flachette rounds. TTFN."
She turns and there is nothing,. She searches every fire zone she can think of and nothing. Instead from the next building over their is a slow clap from Toliver as he watches the Gangrel panic. He got one on her, and the humiliation burns, as her own Beast roars for satisfaction. She was above it though and fought the frenzy back by sheer will alone.
Toliver launches himself to her roof and when he lands he puts up his hand as a sign of peace. the auto shotgun hangs on a harness across his body on an angle for ease of access, but he doesn't reach for it. All he does is point to the south side of the building at the alleyway below. It is at this point one of the sniper teams chirps in. "Contact, lots of contacts. Count is 30, including... What the hell are those?"
With that there is a low grating groan and a thud of something massive moving. Toliver and Kenna both look down to watch the first of 6 Vozhd walking among a number of humanoid sized creatures and humans. All Toliver says is, "Holy fucking hell, Doris you were fucking with fire." Kenna lets out a low whistle at what se is seeing and says over the radio.," Let them go through but be prepared to fight if things go south."
Rooke pipes in, "Oscar Mike now!" With that the troops move out of the horde's way. They get out of the way and they still move to the trailers.
Toliver looks at Kenna and say, "Given 48 hours, they take out the cameras to not video tap their monster and then bring a Hurricane in? Honestly not a bad tactic, to be honest. No eyes and ears about and these things can walk the streets. What concerns me is the amount of power Rose is displaying. 6 Vozhd is too much even for a modern Ghoul master," that alone had a hint of actual concern, by the bucket full.
Kenna nods in agreement as the War ghouls start laying in to the cattle carries, laying on their backs, two to a trailer. The fifth trailer the rest of the humans and humanoids embark into the trailer, including the one Identified as Caitie. When the trailers are full the humans who haven't loaded in close them up and get into the truck cabs to get going. Their orders set well before hand.
The Three of the Widows, and the two kids, get into a tinted windowed limo and drive after them. A Minute later an apparition appears before Kenna and Toliver, it is the Woman known as Jade. she is dressed in an Asian silk dress of red and gold. She nods to both and speaks, "We are holding up our end of the deal, and have reversed the damages that agents of Gordon Industries performed against our accounts, we will also be taking 5% of the Gordon Industries profits as a for of damages. As for your Seneschal, we the Widows hold no grudge, but she should realize she is not Macarthur, and that her need for absolute victory will be her downfall, and will burn those around her. Miss McCrory will hear from our Attorney's about a parting gift for her, as a payment for the destruction of her car, and any pain and suffering she has endured. Other than that, our tasks are done here, and we will move one. Expect the storm to die by tomorrow, naturally. May we never meet again."
With that she bows slightly and vanishes in mid bow. The ordeal is over on the Sabbat side. Toliver shakes his head and pulls out a cigar tube and hands it to Kenna, who takes it absently. He pulls out another one and realizes it is still raining. He puts it back into his trench coat and looks at the Scourge. "We need to get on the same page in this city about the rest of Sabbat. Tell his Grace, we should meet and soon. I have questions for Caius as well. It was his watch this happened on, as it was yours Kenna. There will need to be an accounting of what people were doing what and when. So make sure you can defend yourself from any slander from Caius and make sure your alibis' can cover for you as well. Gordon industries has a leak and I am going to help plug it."

With that he nods to the Scourge and she returns it and go their separate ways in the rain.
*At around 3.20am, Radio KNAU-909 receives a call from one of the street kids, claiming he is making art. During the call, the kid begins screaming uncontrollably at some unknown horror, before the call is ended abruptly.*
It worked.
Well, well, too well. Images blurred into radial lines, many voices at once closing in and mocking and every Echo turning in and folding on itself. The very visage of pure terror, filtered in. How long had it been?
The crackles of thunder were cannons. The strikes of lightning fire and gunpowder expelling and bleeding and taking
And killing.
What a seer would give to stop seeing. Stop seeing.
Cerriphan kept running. The rain and wind in her eyes did not stop the seeing.
*3.46am*
Lyna wanders around, getting a feel of the town. She seems to have arrived at a charged time and wonders if she should leave already... but she's always been too curious. Sometimes she stops to admire the graffiti. It's really well done in places.
A black SUV travels slowly down the lanes as if looking for something or someone.
Potentially, he caught sight of the fleeing woman. Down the streets, ignoring street signs, slogging through flooded dips in the roads. Soaked head to toe, umbrella long since forgotten in her fleeing from nothing and fits of terror.
The phone in her pocket rings the same song as before, something to remind her and show her, someone cares.
A slowed roll as the song jingled. Amber eyes dimming as the visions turned into specs of dust. Sounds of reminders. Soaking wet fingers fumbled and dug into her pocket, flipping the phone. Croaking, scratching tones.
"Hhhhhello." Here, here.
"It is me Cerri, Toliver. Trying to find you can you tell me where you are? Hold one second checking something." The SUV stops by @Lyna Grimm who is standing out in the rain. The rear seats window opens and a bearded man calls to her, "Miss are you alright? Do you need a ride somewhere?"
Lyna turned towards the SUV. She's clearly not bothered by the rain, though her red leather jacket doesn't seem to protect her from it at all.
"No thanks," she replies. "Just taking a walk. Getting to know the town, admiring the art."
There's a little squeaking on the other side of the phone. "I don't know where I am standing," she admitted, "There is many rain. And street lamps. Out, out. I am seeing a store. Lights out, mannequins."
"Still it would be remissed of me to not offer a ride to you, and your jacket does seem to protest to the weather, besides i can use an extra set of eyes to find someone."
He picks up the phone when he hears her voice, "Ok Cerri, can you see street signs or a store name?"
Lyna blinks but thinks, what the hell, she has nothing else to do.
"If you don't mind the water on the seat... who are we looking for?"
She steps closer to the car.
He steps out of the back and you see he is wearing one of those oilcloth trench coats, and see the harness hanging in the SUV with metal bars with points on their end, maybe stake length or a little more. He offer his hand to you in greeting, "I am Toliver, and I am looking for my dear friend Cerriphan. You are?"
"Lyna Grimm," she answers, shaking his hand firmly. "What does your friend look like? My eyes are pretty good."
When he takes your hand his index and middle fingers reach to your wrist touching it to check for pulse. ( Let me roll before you answer please.)
His eyes ease a little more as does his tone. "Her name is Cerriphane and she is one of Malkav's Children. She is petite with brown short cut hair and yellow eyes. She dresses normal in mantles and layers of greys and the like to blend in to city."
Lyna waits while he checks for her pulse, already expecting it. So far she hasn't encountered any humans and in her experience, none of them would just ask a young woman into the car to ask for help. "Thanks," she says. "Can you keep her talking? Maybe I can hear her before we see her."
"yes I can she is at a store front with Mannequins so it narrows it down a little. Trying to get more," he says before he turns speaker on the phone. "Cerri, dear can you make out other details of where you are, like a name or a street?"
"I'm... that is Spanish. No, no, wait. That isn't being here anymore. Mannequins. Glass store fronts. Cafe? I am hearing more voices. From you?"
"Yes dear. I have help with me, i have you on speaker with Lyna Grimm. She is helping me find you." His tone is sweet and tender when he speaks with Cerri, something that is odd for the big man. He looks at Lyna, "got a fix yet Miss Grimm?"
"I did doing the thing," she declared wanly, continuing to talk for their benefit, "I was sending the kids home. Crying to mothers and fathers."
Lyna's eyes are closed and she blindly points in a specific direction. "That way." She opens her eyes. "South."
"Thank you Miss Grimm. Did you hear that we have a way to go, and will be there soon. I will keep you on the phone so you are not feeling alone, ok dear." he offers Lyna to go in first to the SUV. he will follow and close the door after himself and say to the Driver, "South Henderson. Looking for Store fronts with Mannequins. I have her on the phone as well." He turns off the speaker and brings the phone up to his ear. "Ok dear look for the Black SUV, and We will keep our eyes opened for you. Just keep talking with me."
"Okay, okay," she rambled on, "I was doing a good job, yes? Though I was scaring myself too. Remembering terrible things. Shells and flames and dread. Like running through the ruins of home again. Terrible. Did you ever knowing what was happening to it?"
Lyna sits and opens the window a bit to keep listening, ignoring the wind and rain on her face.
"What did she do for you?" She asks absentmindedly.
"She is a dear friend, She was saying she was going to get the kids of the streets for tagging in the storm. Trying to keep them out of trouble and safe."
"Huh. You guys care about that?" She asks, looking at him in surprise. "That's a nice thing to do, I guess."
"There were others things out as well and we didn't want a few pranksters to get drawn into that mess. Masquerade and all."
"They do not deserving to seeing what is lurking, hiding, watching, waiting. Terrors. Hungers. Is it gone?"
"That makes sense," she nods and tells the driver to turn right. "She should be right ahead... there!" She points out the front window.
"Yes Cerri the ones I saw and their minions left maybe 40 minutes ago. Thank you for your due diligence to save lives," he says warmly assuring her. he follows Lyna's point and smiles, "We are pulling up now, Cerri. Coming from the North."
"Good. Good, good." Her voice lifted. "I am thinking I am seeing you coming. Yes, lights. Or did those already passing...?"
"No dear that is us. Let us park for you to get in and get dry, ok?" The SUV pulls up and parks and Toliver gets out of the back of the vehicle as he hangs up the phone. He put his arms out offering Cerriphan a hug.
Though not necessary, Cerriphan breathed in deep as he approached. Her arms wrapped tightly into the secure embrace and held there, sopping wet.
"Okay, okay," she murmured, "I'm okay, you're okay."
Lyna also gets out of the car, thinking he would prefer to share the back with his friend instead of a stranger.
Toliver turns and looks at Lyna, his arm holding Cerri at his side. "There is room still for you, Miss Grimm. I promise I will behave. Where would you like to go," he asks with a smile.
"Hi," the Malkavian stared in a bug-eyed way at Lyna, as if she wasn't quite sure the other woman was actually there. Her fingers made little motions that could be contrived as a friendly wave.
Lyna returned the wave. "Hello." She then turned to Toliver. "I have nowhere to go. So far I only know the bar and a park on my clans territory."
"Ah one of the Gangrel I see. Well the offer for a lift is still there for you. My team is wrapping up the night of crazy. Fucking Sabbat," he says absently shaking his head.
"What actually happened?" She asked, getting into the car again with them. "Was the abducted ghoul saved? Just drip me off somewhere exciting."
"She was. I was making sure the Sabbat in question kept their word to leave in 48 hours. They did such."
"Thats good. A town without sabbat is always preferable."
"On second thought, could you drop me at the piano bar?"
"That will be fine, as that is where we were headed next."
"Small world," she says with a grin. "Or is there just nothing else to do here?"
"Left there with the Dame worried, is all."
"Ah, I see. She does seem to worry an awful lot."
"She has reasons to. She sees herself the mother of all, except me. I am more like the older brother or cool Uncle."
"Attachments," Lyna grumbles. "Can't be healthy."
"Not really, but in the end it helps her hold on to her Humanity. Different strokes for different folks, as the say."

"Good point," she reluctantly agrees. "We all need something."
*4am*
Lyna enters the bar, trying to shake off enough water so she doesn't leave puddles everywhere. She DOES have manners. Sometimes.
Doris looks up from her stacks of folders, a one-woman Criminal Minds briefing montage. She looks rumpled and tired and overworked. Can Kindred get fatigue circles under their eyes?
"Miss Grimm, yes?" A fatigued smile. "Did Father Toliver send you me?" Odd construction.
Toliver enters behind Lyna with Cerriphan in tow.
Cerriphan ambles in after, not quite as soaking wet as before but still a very damp drowned rat.
There is a softening of the expression of swamped civil servant at the sight of Cerriphan.
"I'm heeere," she croaked.
She points at them. "Well, they dropped me off," she says. "Father, is it? He was nice enough to offer me a ride."
"Do you have some spare clothes and dryer for Cerri, Doris? I am sure she could use it," Toilver asks.
"I'd ask for a towel, too, so I don't drip all over your floor, which is pretty expensive, from the looks of it," Lyna adds
"I will be right back..." Doris seems hesitant to leave the room, but does so, to return with towels for all who need them and a t-shirt and yoga pants for Cerriphan.
Then, with equal hesitance, she pads over to Toliver and hugs the shit out of him.
Lyna looks around as she towels off, especially her hair, feeling uncomfortable by that obvious sign of affection
The bar is extremely quiet, just the owner visible at the moment, the other visitors possibly having fucked off when the rain let up.
By the time Doris returns he hangs everyone's jackets and cloaks to drop dry in the coat room. When Doris hugs him he returns it a d whisper, "It is ok, darling. They left and I found my Cheshire cat as well."
"I should have hunted them down." Muttered against his chest.
Lyna walks up to the bar. She checks over her shoulder, but Doris is still busy, so she decides to be a bit rude. She grabs a shaker, fills it half with blood from one bottle, and half from another, shaking it gently.
"No you did right. You know it."
"Still. What sort of message does it send?" Doris grumps.
Cerriphan returned, gratefully clean. Reduced to only a t-shirt and yoga pants, it was as if she'd been deflated ten sizes. Lanky and string beaned.
"Children running hollering to their parents, Dame. They are being safe, safe. If a bit. Mhhhhm. Unhappy!"
Slowly, she brightening again. Hair all wild and fluffing. Eyes darted to Lyna. "Hey! Behind bar is being tender business!"
"Yes, I know," she agrees, grabbing two more glasses and pouring the content of the shaker into them from a bit of a height. She then gives the mixture a slight swirl with a wooden pick she picks from a box. "Do you want one of these?" She asks and puts one on the bar before drinking her own, showing clearly there's nothing dangerous in the mixture.
"You follow the Accords and use diplomacy vs that asshole Toliver, the Myrmidon," he says with a smile.
Cerri eyed the woman as if she'd just ripped her own head off, a mix of horror and fascination.
"I wonder where I learned it all." A tiny smirk. "Stupid old man, going out into the night with just some lackeys."
Lyna shrugs and picks up the second glass. "No? Okay then..." She moves it slowly up to her own mouth, ready to hand it over if asked for it
"Cerriphan." Promptingly.
The woman jumped mildly, then inched forward. "Dame is knowing this one? This drink is for me too?"
Lyna holds the glass out to her. "Those two seem busy, but I thought you might be thirsty."
"Yes. She is known to me."
The glass was plucked wanly from the other's loose grip, holding it with a measured glance to the offered hand. "Thanking you kindly. Supposing there is a good face if the Dame is trusting. And. Thanking for finding me."
"Those lackeys are Archons, warlords and Serviers. All accomplished fighters and tactitians, dear."
"You're welcome," Lyna says, raising her empty glass for a quick toast. "Glad you weren't too far."
"None of them are La Valkyrie." Cheekily smug.
"No, but I do trust them as well. Not as much as you, though."
Cerriphan nodded, a fickle look passing over features as she drained the glass. Her eyes were gleaming as she eyed the ongoing conversation.
Lyna gently took the class from Cerriphan and moved to clean them both.
"I am surprised they took me seriously. There was no indication they were inclined to." Thoughtful.
"They were aware of the Accords and felt wronged. So they had advantage. Add two Kindred who can Astral and one a Koldun, and it seems they had knowledge of our ways, and our people."
"Then why leave?" Doris chews her lip. "Why not press the advantage?"
"Because it is almost morning, and we won the in the end. We got them to leave. Why waste Kindred in a futile unprepared manner?"
"I suppose you are right." A sigh. "I am not well made for all of this."
"Nobody is truly well made for it, even those having being forged in the fires of wars," the woman remarked distantly, still eyeing up Lyna but less defensively so now.
Lyna finishes cleaning the glasses, dries them, and puts them away. "Seeing as I selfishly use your bar, do you and your companion want a drink, too?" she asks.
"No. Thank you. Toliver?"
"I am good as well, but thank you for asking. It is appreciated. "
Lyna shrugs and comes back out from behind the bar, leaving it as clean as it was before she went there.
"You said you needed work. I need a second shift bartender."
Lyna blinks and cocks her head. "Yeah, why not? Beats being bored the whole night." She never thought much about what she would work, if she wanted to.
"Fair. I can just wake up early and mind the shop until my duties require otherwise." Doris nods.
"I have seriously nothing else to do but explore the town. And I have worked as a bartender before. I might be asked for ID sometimes; you Americans are so weird with your age limit, but I can do the job."
"Most of the patrons are well aware the staff may appear younger than they are. And His Majesty owns most of the police." A shrug.
"Good then," she smiled. "That makes things easier. Then I will gladly take the job."
"Be prompt, no time off without two weeks' notice or city emergency." Deadpanned.
"Tell me a time, and I will be prompt," she counters. "What's the pay?"
Doris names an hourly wage that, after research, is above both state and national average. "Elizabeth usually finishes up at ten, so try to be here about nine forty-five."
"Sounds good," she nods. "What about this week? Isn't Lizzy off? Do you have someone else?
"I will manage opening. Elizabeth has off as much time as necessary." Doris' tone suggests that Lizzy is not a topic of discussion.
"Understood," she nods. "I'll be here on time." She turns to the bar. "Got a price list back here until I have it memorized? And a specific order?"
"Price list to the left of the register. All the regulars have specific orders." Doris shrugs. "An excuse to converse with them."
Lyna nods, comitting it to memory, before moving to check on the price list.
"Always looking for good help, Doris. I sometimes wonder about you, and then I understand after a moment on how you think."
Toliver leaves Doris' side and goes to Cerriohan and just embraces her in his arms again. giving her the feeling that there is someone always there to be there for her.