Cast: Tinkerbell, Matt
Location: The Getty Center
Time: The early evening
Synopsis: Tinkerbell arrives at the Getty and starts a discussion with Sir Schnell in the aftermaths of the previous' day punishment
Tinkerbell enters the pavilion from the main courtyard.
Tinkerbell has arrived.
Matt is sitting in fron of a special sculpture showing two dancing people in a very abstract composition.
Noone can say how long he has been sitting there, but he seems relatively unmoved. Not much is going on in
the Getty right now, only a few liveried ghouls scuttling around and cleaning stuff.
The small blond Brujah is out exploring, perhaps, curious or something as she wanders into the Getty.
She's wearing a little stripey tube dress and heels, and seems to be in a pleasent enough mood, as far as Brujah go.
Matt moves, maybe he's heard a sound or whatever. Slowly his head turns towards the entrance area and he sees the
little dress-wearing Brujahgirl. A smile customarily creeps upon the corners of his mouth and he slowly and delibaretly
stands up and moves to intercept the new comer.
Tinkerbell blinks a few times up at Matt, the petite blond coming to stop to look up for a moment, then lowers her eyes
deferentially and bobs into a slight, though polite, curtsey. "Ah. Good evening, Monsieur," She greets, her british accent
toned down. She looks up through her lashes, a demure smile curls at her lips.
Matt raises his left eyebrow (something he had to do way too often lately), then an amused smile crosses his face and he
bows his head, "Bon soir Mademoiselle. Quelle plaisir. I haven'T seen the likes of you in the Getty Center for a long time."
"What, a Brujah?" Tinkerbell asks, widening her eyes innocently and smiling, as if she knows what he is talking about, but
she chuckles softly anyway.
Matt chuckles along, "Non mademoiselle. I meant exclusively you." He takes a somewhat longer look at her, "Even if I have to admit that the so-called Brujah are also relatively sparse in this Elysium nowadays…or shall I better say nowanights."
Tinkerbell flutters her lashes. "Aww," she says, and she shrugs, "Are we? I heard an interesting story about hands …
that's all … so thought I would see for myself."
Matt now definately raises BOTH his eyebrows, "A story about hands, Mademoiselle?" He wrinkles his forehead as if thinking
hardly, then a smile lightens up his face and he offers, "Aren'T stories like that too gruesome for little birds like you?"
He chuckles again, "But aye, sometimes people are bound to lose hands if they can't control them in this domain. Justice is harsh and meted out quickly me thinks, god bless our Sheriff!"
Tinkerbell's eyes narrow slightly, and her shoulders threaten to tense up … but she just smooths at the front of
her dress calmly. "Well, I *am* Brujah, no matter what I may seem to be, Monsieur … a little detail like that is not so
gruesome as all that. I just found it curious …"
Matt shrugs, "I am not the one to patronize people like you, Mademoiselle, but if I may share one little pearl of wisdom
with you concerning the domain of Santa Monica?"
"Of course," Tinkerbell says, rocking forwards onto her toes, and folding her hands behind her back now, the very picture
of a little blond cherub. Or something innocent, anyway.
The Ventrue hesitates a little, then elaborates, "Santa Monica is the domain of Prince Acton. He is from Old Blood. And used to old customs. European customs. And he likes his rules rather strict. His domain, his rules. So who of us dares to
question this?"
"Not me!" Tinkerbell says with a flip of her hair, a grin plastering over her features again, fingers twitching at her
skirt in a half-curtsey. "Like I said, I was just curious. Bein' a neighbor and all. Good to know what's goin' on with
others."
Matt nods, "Unfortunately, as much as I enjoy our conversation, I have to leave now. have a nice soiree" And with that he leaves.
