Thread: Talking (Stan, Maddy Cahill or any malk) 6/28

Stan flips the page on the contract in front of him. 20 acers, just north of town with the option to but more over the next 5 years if it is needed. The farmer is happy, he dosent have to pay taxes on the land anymore, is getting more than it is worth and still gets to farm 17 acers as long as he harvist befor the fall. A win for everyone.
He goes over the contract making sure that both he or the farmer have the protection they need. Satisfied he signs the document, the first stage of the venture compleat. Hearing the knock he calls out.

"Yes come in it's open!"

Lydia glides into the room with a grin on her face. "Yes, come in, it's open. Is that any way to greet your sister?"

Looking at him "What ya working on?"

feeling the urge to walk around, malice proceeded down the halls of the asylum "There's no earthly way of knowing,
Which direction we are going,"
passing the insane they seem do get aggrevated as he passes by, evetually nearing an old woman
"Not a speck of light is showing so the danger must be growing," staring into her eyes his mind jumps for joy at his ideas, before being called away
"And they're certainly not showing, any signs that they are slowing!" soon he reached the others he smiles and removes his top hat

Stan smiles as Lydia slips in, a slight chuckle escapes him as she speeks.

"I am sorry sister I was not exspecting you. Otherwise I would have opened the door for you."

He nods to Malice as he enters.

"Eavning Malkice, I dont know if you have meet Lydia but she is a well known member of our clan and your sister in this city, Lydia this is Malice and newly arrived member of the city who is waiting his time for his acknoledgement.

Stan looks down at the contract as he gathers up the paperwork placing it in a folder to be droped off the following morning.

"This is a little business ventrue I am going into sister. Something to occupy my time and alow me a little freedome with some skills I posses."

He winks at her as he puts the folder in the out box on the desk.

he extends his hand to lydia " greetings moon child, its a pleasure"
looking the malkavian in the eye before looking around the room, random do dads catching his eye.

Lydia smiles at Stan "You are forgiven."

"Nice to meet you Malice. How do you like my city so far?"

"How nice for you. I hope this little business venture goes well for you. "Grinning at Stan "And what skills might you be using?"

"I have been gone on a short vacation. I wanted to check in with the family and see how things were going."

"Well I hope your trip has goon well. It is good to see you back. The family has grown some since I last saw you, perhaps we should plan to have a gathering of the clan in order to get better aquanted with each other."

Stan stands and moves to the small fridge in the corner of the room. He pulls 8 glasses from the cabnet and places them on a silver tray. from the firdge he pulls two bottles, on clear with a red tinted wine, the other a silver bottle with rubber cork.

He sets them out pouring himself a glase from the silver bottle.

"Would either of you care for a drink. As for my specialty sister, I have a desire to practice producing some blades, perhaps even for sale, but time will tell for that."

Ferguson is hurriedly making his way through the Asylum, walking at a brisk pace. He is running a sequence of numbers over and over through his head, trying to recall the order of them before they slip from his mind completely, having forgotten his notebook and recorder in his room. He catches a few voices coming from Stan's office, and stops, ten feet from the door, listening intently.

As he's listening, he snaps his fingers in frustration at having let the numbers slip his mind. The frustration lingers, like a taunting child prodding a dog with a branch. Pressure starts building in Ferguson's temples, and he is dimly aware that his fists are clenched to the point of his nails digging into his cold, hard flesh. He tries desperately to grab the Beast by its throat, to hold it down with Herculean effort, to wrestle it into bloody submission. With a supreme effort of will, he manages to restrain the urge to let the Beast out, and with a hushed phew, he straightens his tie and with a wide smile he walks into Stan's office greeting the occupants warmly.

"Good evening, Stan. I do hope I'm not interrupting anything," Ferguson says with a tilt of his head and a dazzling smile.