Okay, I must confess, I'm having a blast.  I suspect that this reflects some profound flaw in my character, one that probably results from far too many years in Eamon's company.  Even worse, I find that I hope that I don't live to be old enough to lose pleasure in this sort of game.  Admittedly, all I'm really doing at the moment is kicking over every anthill I find, butÖ  I'd be more subtle if the situation made it possible.  Sadly, the city structure makes it impossible to see which loose threads are likely to be most productive.

And it seems that I have cast bread upon the water.  My query to the Nosferatu in Europe was intended more as a matter of courtesy than as a serious attempt to reach that clan.  I have no wish to be known as someone who forgets roots and debts and still less of a wish to be such.  Had I gotten no response, I'd still have been content with the knowledge that I'd extended the invitation, however indirectly.  They would know, and I would know.

Instead, I got Fred Williamson and his cryptic hint.  Ezekiel's information from the student group narrowed our focus after the Nosferatu gave us direction.  I'm sure that none of us went to Henderson expecting to find what we did; my impression is that we were all rather leaning in the direction of ancient evils and things man was not meant to know.  Hathor and the curse and Dario's disappearance have all inclined us in that direction.

Henderson's a quiet, well managed community.  The casinos lack the glare found in Las Vegas and so seem less threatening.  We altered our appearances a little, enough to pass casual inspection, and prepared to wander into one of the casinos.  We'd have been easily enough tracked if anyone had made an effort given that we parked Rachel's car in the lot; simply running the plates would have led back to her.  My efforts at disguising myself failed miserably, but Ezekiel was able to make up the lack.  I'll have to remember the effect, however.  Acne tends to persuade people to place one squarely in the teenage years in spite of other clues.  If I can replicate the effect, I can be a younger (albeit less attractive) woman or an older boy.

We found one of the props of Dario's peace.  Henderson houses a settlement of old clan LaSombra.  The three of us, Rachel, Ezekiel and I, walked in like we knew what we were doing.  We'd have angled for the slots if nothing else offered immediately, but a woman came out from behind the desk to greet us.  She seemed to think we belonged, so who were we to disabuse her of the notion?

I had to bluff like hell, but we got more information than I'd hoped that way.  I'd decided we could afford to gamble on the local clan, whatever it might be, before Ms. Alvarez realized that I was talking through my completely nonexistent hat.  When she spoke of "the clan," she obviously wasn't referring to the Giovanni, and she had the right attitudes toward the Sabbat and the Setites.  She also showed no sign of the head up the ass syndrome that seems to have afflicted Las Vegas' Giovanni.  Well enough.

I am, however, still grateful that Tressa can handle the negotiations or, rather, supercede the need for most of them.  A sensible Justiciar is a handy thing to have around.  I'm glad though that I already knew her standing.  Not being floored by the news does wonders for my standing with those who end up gibbering.  Mostly they seem to assume that it's European savoir-faire that lets me deal with people like her.  I'd put that down more to a sense of humor and the knowledge that I could easily be dead an hour from now.  The line between awe and groveling is narrower than most people realize.

On a related topic, Armand's reaction to the name Stephen Coleridge surprised me.  I couldn't figure out if he was too terrified to want to face the man or stunned by the thought that he'd have the chance to do so.  Why would someone of that stature stay in Las Vegas?  Perhaps he enjoys being contrary.  Perhaps it has to do with his sister.  Or perhaps Clan Toreador realizes that it needs someone to look after the idiots it's allowed to thrive here.  His status might also explain Severance's knowing that I despise Setites.  It's information he could have acquired easily after learning my name.  I just still don't know if he'd have shared it with her.

Then again, if Severance does have status locally as Ms. Alvarez implied, she may well have her own sources of information.  I'd have expected those, however, to reveal my clan as well as my avocation.  I wonder if it would be appropriate to ask her to perform at the party as wellÖ  She didn't offer, and if I'm understanding the styles correctly hers would not fit with Mimi's.  I really should pay more attention to modern music.
And I must make sure I get out a little more often.  The climbing I did the other night did wonders in terms of stress reduction.  I may be a social creature, but I need some time to myself.  Climbing requires a focus that yields serenity.  I need serenity at the moment.  Otherwise, my humor may have fangs and claws and pounce from unexpected shadows.

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