Meetings and Menus

Hotel Carmilla

When the word is out, it will reach Susan Baker eventually and since the word was Willing Donor, the AVL poster girl now steps into the lobby with that slow, lazy pace of hers. Some interpret the hipswaying as melodramatic, others as downright sexy, those in the know will call it compensation. Once inside the woman reshoulders the matching purse, takes an instant to scan faces with icy blue eyes, then angles towards the counter.

Shorter nights mean much less time for conducting business. Things must be dealt with in a timely manner. As such, when the city begins its slumber, the Sheriff of Area 9 makes her way to the Hotel Carmilla. It is her regular meeting night at the establishment, one upon which she speaks with the concierge to get a list of names for those who have not previously cleared their stay in the city with her. These vampires, and their companions, will each be screened by her throughout the week.

With the list of names intact, she eyes the concierge icily. "I am feeling a little… bored… this evening. I should like you to send Davin up to my usual suite this week. The taste of something new never hurt anyone."

"Ain't that the truth," Susan murmurs, sliding up beside Isobel at the desk - allowing for personal space. There's a ready smile to be shared by all willing to meet it, the eternal grin making her look so amiable, approachable and PR-able. "Donors, right?" Just checking.

There is no smile upon Isobel's face. Then again, there is no movement to look at the woman coming up at her side. There is quite a bit of silence, until she simply says, "Good evening, Ms. Baker." They may have not yet met, but she ensures that she knows all of those in her territory by both voice and look. The poor woman will get no response one way or another as to whether it's a donor or something else entirely.

"So far, it is," Susan nods, the smile turning into a lopsided grin. "But there are, here, on call" she checks with the clerk if the vampire won't adress her question. Is she surprised the woman recognizes her? Hardly, her face is all over ads and even the odd commercial on tv. "Unless you've hoarded them all," she again tests grounds for communication with Isobel.

The concierge is more than happy to hold out a booklet toward Susan. One filled with names and images of all the willing donors that the hotel employs.

"You may do well to know to whom you are addressing your comments before you address them." Isobel nods to the concierge, then motions for Susan to take a seat on the red velvet couch with her book. "There is also very little point in holding up the poor man's line whilst you peruse for your pleasure."

Cough. "Excuse me?" One dark brow arches in an oh-so human way when Susan turns her head towards Isobel - with some effort, the hunger in her eyes isn't hard to miss and that list, that menu is just so tempting. "So the archaic English probably means you're a wee bit older than me, but is that an excuse for a high horse?" Still, she takes the booklet and follows the woman. "At the very least, enlighten me, yeah." Her irritation has risen enough for a sliver of Cockney to slip through in the last word.

A slender eyebrow quirks upward, and she merely points to the couch. The only indication that Susan may be speaking to someone far out of her league is the fact that the concierge attempts to quiet her by pointing to a donor named James, in order to distract her from her tirade. The Sheriff waits until the woman is seated and then turns an icy gaze onto her. "For one that works with the American Vampire League, it is sad to know that you do not know those who are responsible for seeing to the care of vampires in the city." A hint, a nudge. That is all the woman is given. The ire kept at a minimum at the moment, though it is slowly rising.

Even Susan Baker can take a hint - in the end, the brow lowered, further, frowning now even as she sits, pointedly crossing her legs, smoothing the annoyingly brightly flowered jacket. Fingers drum slowly on the arm of the couch. "You work for the sheriff," is ventured. Wait, that doesn't… One eye is squinted when Susan looks up at Isobel, "Ah. Well, glad you pointed that out so quickly."

"You move far too much for a vampire." Isobel is content to sit there quite motionlessly, staring at the stairs. Awaiting her dinner. "Actually, my dear child, I work for the /King/." Still no mention that she /is/ the Sheriff yet. It is fun to toy with the young ones. "Though I do feel it quite prudent to ask what your /true/ views are on the American Vampire League, as you are there primarily as an indentured servant." Someone has done her homework.

So the expression dies, but still Susan shrugs, "Works wonders on humans," she deadpans, nodding /that/ much as Isobel adds to a hunch she's having. "Prudent…" She looks down at the bookelt in her lap, but that only renews her hunger and subsequent irritation over having to wait. It cools her eyes even more when she lifts them to meet Isobel's once more. "Way I look at it… I'm serving my time. Period."

"Your plans for when your time is finished?" Isobel smirks a little. "Child, I am obviously not a human and thus the extra movements merely act as a distraction." The booklet is snatched from the woman's lap, and she begins to flip through it. "Male or female?" Some have no preference, some do one way or the other. The Sheriff knows each donor personally, not merely from dining on them.

"You're kidding me," Susan blurts, the booklet snatched away easily since she doesn't have the speed to counter it. "I'll make plans once I'm done with this charade. And either's fine, as long as they're not all doped up." The woman makes a face - until she remembers and smoothes the expression once more. With a sigh. "What's it to you anyhow. Braeden is hovering, so you know there's nothing to worry about."

"Mr. MacKeirnan may hover all that he wishes to, but he is not responsible for your actions within Area nine. I, on the otherhand, am. Therein lies my interest." Isobel flips through the pages until she stops about midway through the book. "If it is your first time enjoying the benefits that the Hotel has to offer, I would suggest procuring a room. As well, Emily is very nice for a first timer." The booklet is handed over once more, a slender finger tapping the picture in question.

Susan follows the finger and quirks a brow, "First timer." She takes the booklet back though and shakes her head, "My actions speak for themselves, sheriff," she answers, only then looking back up and leaning back. "You've read my file, case, info page or whatever and you'd know that much. Do you really need another confirmation. I know what is expected of me and within those limits I operate. As I always have." Somewhat. With varying results.

"You know what is expected with you, and the limits that you were given, yet that is not what I asked. I asked what your plans were when your sentence was completed." Isobel allows the woman to take the book back to peruse it, and then moves forward to flip several pages back. "If you prefer someone of the male persuasion, I would suggest him." Another picture is tapped, and she settles back. "Two entirely different things, much like the two I have shown you in the booklet."

Fingers drumming on the page with the eligable donors now and her lips move with the motion of her tongue running over her teeth. Decisions decisions, specially since the AVL paying for a room so she can feed properly is entirely out of the question. Which logically leaves room for a well directed glamour. "And I told you I don't know yet. Though you can place a safe bet I'll not be wearing anything like this ever again." Perfectly manicured fingers pluck at the bouquet she's wearing.

"It is quaint and charming, in a fifties housewife manner." Something that Isobel would never be caught dead wearing. Then again, she dresses however she feels like in the moment, which the majority of the time means like a modern teenager, as it's much easier to blend in. "You are welcome to use my suite of rooms upstairs." The hotel has a policy about not glamouring the donors, as one to many glamours can destroy someone's mind. "Though you will need to obtain the passcode from the concierge." Indeed, a passcode and not a keycard.

Susan lifts a hand, patting the bob of her hair in mockery of the 50's remark and she smiles sweetly, "Braeden's personal touch. Hm, that's something I might do when my time's up…" Her lips part in a tiny, murderous smile. Not something that stays there for long, honest surprise replacing it instead, even if she tilts her head to question, "That's very nice of you. Will you tell me why?"

The smile causes Isobel's brow to arch. A mental note made to keep an eye upon this one. "If your intentions are to remain in Dallas, of course, you will wish to let me know exactly what your plans are once you have them all sussed out." The Sheriff lets a dry smile appear upon my lips. "The hotel frowns upon the use of glamour on their employees unless absolutely necessary. Using a private suite will mean there would be no reason to glamour anyone, unless the chosen donor requests it. Too many glamours would leave the poor employees a tad addlebrained, you see."

Renewed irritation cleans her face of any other visible emotion. Even the tilt is corrected and she asks curdly, "How old do you think I am…" She closes the booklet with a snap and informs, "I'll gladly take you up on your offer, but at least give me the credit of some intelligence."

The icy neutrality snaps her features back into place. "You are still a child. If I had to wager a guess you are only a little older than my Child was when he perished. Which would put you somewhere between the ages of one hundred, and two hundred, and not much more than that." So to someone that has nearly five hundred years on the woman, she remains a child. Isobel also waggles her finger at the woman admonishingly. "Attitude." With that having been said, she motions for the concierge to come over and smiles. "Please see to it that Ms. Baker's evening is put on my tab, and that she is given access to my suite. I have other business to attend to, and if Davin is ready he will be coming with me for the evening."

A child with the temper of one for certain, Susan having to bite hard on the inside of her cheek in order not to give the sheriff a piece of her uncensored mind, which could only end ugly. But even the concierge arches a brow noticing the fire in Sue's eyes. "Appreciated, sheriff" she manages in a tight voice, the melody all lost in her anger. Irritated, she crosses her legs the other way around and in that moment it's not hard to see why Braeden choose to emphasize the fifty's look.

Once Susan has been shown to the room and the concierge returns, she pulls the man aside. "Do have the surveillance tapes sent to the estate when the evening is over, and call me if she returns." While Isobel has little care what happens with the American Vampire League, she /does/ care what goes on in her city. "If MacKiernan comes in, send him to the estate as well." Davin appears then, dressed to the nines in a suit-attire, looking quite the businessman. "Ah yes, you will do quite nicely." Then she leads her dinner out of the establishment and into the waiting vehicle.

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