20100201 - A Brief Discussion


Logos Investigation Agency: Front Offices - Sariman Bldg - Division Avenue: West
In the front office is where the meet and greet of most P.I. business happens. An antique chair and desk is in the corner for a receptionist, along with a multilined phone. On the walls the original Dalnim Investigations and Evil Eye Investigations windows are hung as historical memorabilia. A potted plant grows wildly up one wall creating a green landscape to add a touch of calmness to the high energy of the office.

The office is kept cool in the summer by a pair of antique ceiling fans that are backed by the building's central H/A. Horizontal blinds cover the windows, though they are kept semi closed to prevent the casual passerby from seeing within. A door in the back of the reception area leads elsewhere in the building, but it's marked: PRIVATE.



Samuel awaits Robert's arrival in the front office of Logos. He holds a fresh cup of coffee in a gloved hand and stands watching the swirling and blowing snow through the glass door. "Going to be a lovely drive home," he says to no one - since he is the only one in the office at the moment.

Robert arrives, snow over his dreadlocks and beard, and shoulders. His brief headshake as he enters the office does show a connection with his beast, wolflike in the gesture. He pauses, his gaze scanning the room before he steps forward, greeting Samuel with an incline of his head, the brown eyes studying the other man closely. "Robert Moye. I believe you are expecting me."

Samuel smiles faintly at the scan of the room. "Indeed, and I'm Samuel Kwon," he says to the introduction and offers a gloved hand to shake. "Not that caffeine will stay in your system for long, but do you want some coffee? Fresh pot."

"I would very much like some." Robert's reply has an undertone of truth, a flicker of amusement passing through his eyes before his face resumes its comfortable impassiveness. "Black, if you would. No sugar." He moves forward, taking the hand, his own warm, calloused, firm, and he does not seem to feel the need to prove himself by squeezing harder than is the norm.

"Coming right up," Samuel responds as he sets his mug down and goes to pour one for Robert. "Black is the only way to take it if you ask me." He returns, hands Robert a mug of steaming joe, then takes up his mug once more. "So, first, I should apologize for not being able to get this meeting set up already. Sometimes vampires can be… odd." He gives a Gallic shrug. "But, I am certainly willing to deliver any message you wish."

"Vampires have, I believe, certain protocols. I am not familiar with them all." He takes the mug, wrapping a hand around it, a brief inhalation savouring the scent of the coffee. "I am seeking an audience with the Master of this City on behalf of the Geri of our Pack. I am certain that you are aware of the circumstances." Robert speaks precisely, choosing his words with care, his gaze firmly on the other man's face. "We have reason to believe that there are those who wish to cause friction between our Pack and the Kiss, and we wish to send them a certain message that it is a futile effort."

"That they do," Samuel agrees. He sips as he listens, making a disapproving face when Robert remarks he knows the situation - clearly unhappy with the attempted framing. "Okay. Here's what I'm going to do. I'll have another go at getting Savina engaged, and if that doesn't work I'll try going to the Master of the City directly. At a bare minimum I'll be sure he knows your position on the friction creating attempt."

Robert listens and then nods, a flicker of his wry smile showing as his eyes crease at the corners. "I appreciate it. We feel strongly that a Kiss and Pack war would benefit neither and be a foolish waste of resources." He speaks with confidence, taking a swig of the coffee before he hesitates, adding more softly, "I believe that the preternatural community should work together, to protect those of us who are weaker. Who are vulnerable, in these times of fear and hate." Those words are from him entirely.

"That, and if bodies start turning up, or known preters vanishing," Samuel says, "then the authorities are going to start looking into things with a lot more vigor than any of you want." Samuel nods, pauses then replies, "As someone who was amongst the weak and hated not too long ago, I am very much in accord with you there."

Robert nods, the flicker of a smile widening for a second, before the man finishes his coffee. "Thank you, Samuel. I believe that if good men sit down around a table and discuss matters with a willingness to put ego aside, they can come to a peaceable arrangement." And he does, it shows in his face, the neutrality fading in the face of belief. "The manner in which we treat our vulnerable is a sign of the society we live in."

Samuel smiles genuinely. "Yeah, putting ego aside, that's the trick for sure. We all fail at that often enough." Another nod. "It's a funny thing, that. The people who treated me the worst for being a psychic were humans. Other preters, not just psychics, but vampires and shifters, and fae for that matter, all treated me better." He shrugs as if to say, 'It's anecdotal, but there it is.' He eyes the storm outside. "Well, I think we'd both better get out of here unless we want to spend the night."

Robert responds to the smile, his mouth flickering into that brief wry smile, the man's emotions held close and privately, at least physically. "I believe fear is a powerful motivator." He hesitates, then nods abruptly, placing the mug down before he offers his hand to the other man. "We all have history that makes us wish things were safer for those who are weak." The expression shows on his that he is making the gesture deliberately, to knowingly allow Samuel to read his emotions.

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