The Regent Grand Hotel

The Regent bites his tongue not to say or show any reaction to what was perceived as an attack by his Beast. He shuts it off as he closes the fists. He doesn't answer the question about his rank, but once he's freed (it's clear he was ready to interrupt it by force). He seems a little surprised, as his blood starts healing the wounds. He raises en eyebrow, observant, then chuckles at his words. He doesn't step back.
(Lyle) That's all? Oh, yes. Well, I'm Tremere, playing with my own blood is the barebone basics. I'm far more than an amusing neonate. Take more so you can heal, without causing ruckus afterwards. I'll need your whole attention, hm.

He switched to a more serious tone to his last words, with a direct gaze. He has avoided telling neither about his age nor about his sire, but blaming it on the magic. There seems to be some truth in that magical statement.

blood system:

Chris sighs, rolling his shoulders a little then tilts his head from side to side, his neck popping with a soft crack. “Look, I don't care one bit about how much I take from Kine. I stop when I've had enough, or the blood stops coming.” His voice is calm as he speaks, matter of factually. “However, I don't have a clue how much I can take from you. So I played it safe.” The vampire smirks slightly. “And I may, fortunately, know little about your witchcraft, but I highly doubt that everything originates from just that.”
He pushes himself forward again in the sofa and once more reaches for the Tremere's arm. “But you're right that I could definitely use more. Just give me a signal if I got to stop.” For the second time that night, he bites in Lyle's wrist and, just as greedily as before, draws the blood toward him. He lets go only when he feels he's had enough, or until Lyle gives him some sort of signal to stop. Whichever comes first.

The Tremere stays passive, after all, he offered. He keeps silent, but he tenses visibly more than the precedent one. His blood refuses to flow as easily as it did just earlier, but it eventually obeys (be it to the drinking or to the Tremere's will). He puts his free hand on Chris' shoulder when he decides it's enough, and both gets back his arm and pushes the vampire away. He heals again and pulls down his sleeve.
(Lyle) Seems like enough. I don't give a damn about Kine in general as long as you respect the masquerade.. Or don't get caught. Okay, rules, hm ?

He pulls the chair from the desk of the suit and sits in front of the vampire with a slight bored sigh.
(Lyle) I've repeated this speech way too often lately. Alright, no touching the mortals residents of the hotel, but the staff are willing donors and they are under mind control to forget about it and to find it normal. Never kill them as they're hard to replace and it draws enough attention. I'll let you borrow this room for a while, it's the down season anyway. Uh.. Not telling a word to people about my activities unless they know already. Don't let them fish out info, I like my privacy. It's not like they'll believe you anyway. Ugh. This hotel is also our Chantry. So the place is declared Elysium and whatnot. Aw shit, you do know Camarilla laws, don't you? The traditions?

Lyle inquires, hoping he won't have to give as well a Camarilla crash course. He observes, curious, half amused, the reactions.

As he promised, Chris pulls away as soon as Lyle signals for him to stop. He leans back in the seat, much more at ease now than before. With the blood in his system, he begins to focus it to the remaining minor injuries and his broken ribs, giving only small indications that he listens to the Tremere. Mostly short, curt nods to show he understands and accepts the rules, though there's a raised eyebrow of surprise when Lyle mentions the Hotel is in fact, the Chantry.

ST:

When asked about the Camarilla traditions, Chris frowns and shrugs in a bored manner. “Eh. I know some of your traditions. You know, with the whole 'know your enemy' thing. Don't go up to mortals wearing a pink neon sign saying 'I'm a vampire', stay out of another's territory -Those two I can understand fine, though why the former is labeled under a specific name feels rather stupid to me-, and then there's something about not Siring without permission, and not killing anyone without permission.” He rolls his eyes to show his opinion on the latter. “Those are rather bullshit in my opinion. Especially the last one.” The vampire gives a dismissive wave with his hand before Lyle can say something about this. “But I'll play nice, you got my word on that. Wasn't planning on getting to much attention on me in the first place. It was hard enough to clear my tracks. Anything I miss?”

Lyle watches over Chris' healing with a certain interest, or at least it's what he's looking at. He listens with no look of shock nor of disapproval. He shrugs in disdain.
(Lyle) Four out of Six. That's a passing grade. for the Gangrel. The two you missed are the Hospitality, means we kinda have to house a Kindred who respected Domain. It's about the same. It's the Tradition you must appeal to when passing in a Camarilla City. And the one you probably think is even more bullshit being that once you get the right to Embrace, you're responsible for your childe until they are set free. It's what Elders use to invoke dominion over the younger in some way, in it's extended meaning. Here it's not as paternalistic as it could be. Either way, no witnesses, no blood hunt.

He pauses, thoughtful of what may have been forgotten.
(Lyle) Ah. Vocabulary. Prince you know certainly. Primogen are the representative of the clans in the city, one per Camarilla Clan. Including the Gangrel here. Harpies are those who do and undo one's reputation among the peers (political credibility..). The sheriff is who makes sure the law is respected and execute sentences. The scourge makes sure we don't have rogue kindred in the borders (here it's the same person). The seneschal does seneschal work. Elysium keeper makes sure elysiums are respected as such. Urh.. no need to teach you on clans.

He frowns visibly, his thoughts darkened by something.
(Lyle) We have a Tremere Lord staying with us for a few days. He isn't here for official reasons- ah, in our case a lord is the direct superior of the Regents in an area- so, not on official Tremere matters but you may be interesting to him so you should avoid him. Catching the old man's interest, not a good idea if you want to survive. I'll give you something to avoid drawing attention, but in the mean time I expect nothing but loyalty and obedience. I shouldn't be too much on your back, as usual, but you'll have to trust me on this.

The Tremere gives a "yes I know.." look when he's asking to be trusted, but he sighs.
(Lyle) A lot has happened in the last couple of nights. Somehow I've became popular. And a fucking vessel too.

Chris' eyebrows rise in surprise at the last of the two Traditions that he'd missed, then he shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “That one....really is bullshit. Let them figure shit out for themselves and deal with the resulting consequences on their own. Good thing that I wasn't planning on Embracing anyone anytime soon. I'm not some damned babysitter. I got better things to do. The internet doesn't entertain itself.” At the mention of no witnesses, he grins and nods slowly as though in thought. “Yes, I'll certainly keep that in mind.”
Though he seems to listen to the list of positions amongst the Camarilla, he gives no real indication to try and memorize them. Perhaps he already knew of them, or doesn't really consider it all important. He smiles almost innocently when Lyle mentions the clans, letting his chin rest on his knuckles. “No, no. I'm already here, playing nice and listening to the lectures. You shouldn't slack off. Tell me all about the clans!”

A notable scowl creases Chris' forehead when the Tremere makes his demand of loyalty and obedience. He glares at the warlock for a few moments, seeming to try and peer into the other's head to find any ulterior motives. He lets out a sigh then, shaking his head briefly. “If anyone else would try to make such a demand of me, I'd stake, skin, and drain him, and then leave their remains to bake in the sun. But since it's you...” The vampire falls into a few seconds of contemplating silence, then lets out a resigned sigh. “I'm not going to be some mindless little puppet for your amusement. However, I'll behave nicely and listen to reasonable demands.”
He appears fairly amused by Lyle's complaint on having become popular. “You didn't seem to mind much when you had to give out autographs during Blizzcon. As for the vessel thing, that's your own problem. Though I won't mind giving you a hand should you decide to hook yourself up to a bloodletting machine.”

The Regent shrugs about childer learning on their own, and at the mention that Chris doesn't plan on embracing.
(Lyle) Lucky you. You'll understand the Tremere can't really embrace and let the kids wander here and there without a proper and solid brainwash. Oh for fuck's sake, the clans, really ? Fine fine. God I managed to avoid it with Claudia... God has certainly an awful sense of humor.

He lets out a long bored sigh, but addresses other issues first.
(Lyle) I appreciate you not giving me the sunbath. Don't worry, I've got enough amusement for now, and obedience and loyalty are no different for our games together, I won't mess with you as long as you keep your word (I know you will). Those autographs were awful, that bastard Leopold sold my presence out there to the community. At least they barely give a fuck about Europeans players and hopefully the Clan didn't find out. It's good the blood supply is only increasing. So, the clans.. Take notes, student !

He chuckles and smirks.
(Lyle) Okay, the clans. First, mine. The Tremere in the city weren't that numerous until a couple of nights ago, and we're in a status of emergency due to our old Chantry having been attacked by one of your clanmates -I'll get to that in a minute. Apart from Claudia Vonigner, my childe, who can basically be wherever she likes, everybody is staying in the Chantry, that'd be seven of us (the Lord, his right arm, four apprentices and a Regent). And the Gargoyle. I'll catch Claudia and make her speak to you about these things (unlike me, she got a social life, uh), instead of the usual three and a half. The Clan, through me, has dominion on the telecommunication services, this Hotel, and the Saint Eloi church you may have heard of. The Ventrue, well they're quite silent. One of them being the Prince, that's be Gosuin (quite a diplomatic and good Prince, as far a power hungry bastard can be), they have effective domain on the city. The others I don't really know. The Toreador in the city hold the culture, the arts, and the architecture of the city, and well, Toreador in France be Toreador. The Malkavian are meaningless but are great allies to Gosuin. The Gangrel managed to negotiate some peace with the werewolves, they managed to keep a seat at the Primogen but it's just a tie breaker. The Brujah are smart well placed bastards but they have no idea how powerful they actually are. The Nosferatu got all the cellars, and to be honest they are my personal rivals as far as influences are. The Sethites are worthless scumbags but they're on the other side of the river and Gosuin has kinda of an alliance with them. Ah and we have one sole lone Giovanni in town. They used to be more, but they attacked Gosuin's influences and he didn't like it. So he favored the Sethites over them as far as the sex and drugs industries are concerned.

The Tremere recaps up what he just said, then he smiles and nods, satisfied with the information he gave.
(Lyle) As far as recents events are concerned, a guy named Frederic Vonzel, who presented himself as Ventrue a few decades ago when he passed by, but who was actually Lasombra, decided it'd be fun to attack my church while I was inside praying, and speaking with a couple of neonates. As well as a couple of bombings in the Brujah's domain. He seems to have broken his ties to the Sabbat, since that bitch is bound to the local Toreador Harpy. And she's bound to him. I would have killed the cunt on the spot if one of the neonates I was with hadn't managed to stake him. He'll be turned over to the Prince anyway.

He stays silent an instant, becoming serious an instant.
(Lyle) I can't allow you to walk around in the city without being presented properly to the Prince and some token of loyalty. Especially with the stains of your aura ; I can take care of those. But the "Hey I left the Sabbat because they deprived me of Internet access" excuse won't fly to those old idiots. Lasombra are't really trusted, especially when paranoia is reaching out everyone. Okay, Tremere aren't trusted either, but we're indispensable. You're not.

Amused and teasing, he taps in his hands before he crosses the fingers together.
(Lyle) To be honest, if you decide to stay, I won't mind the company. Leopold having caught himself a girl, and that bastard ain't sharing, and he's way too young anyway. That and I could use your presence for my evil master plans.

Chris chuckles and grins openly at the exasperation displayed by the Tremere at the prospect of having to tell him about the clans anyway. He leans back comfortably in the couch, arm behind his head. Though his attention seems to have been feigned at the start of Lyle's little lecture on the clans, it soon turns to more or less genuine interest, the vampire filing away the information he hadn't previously known. Occasionally, he gives a small nod of understanding, but otherwise he remains quiet, letting the Tremere finish without interruptions.
Once done, Chris keeps his silence for a few more moments, letting the information sink in. He then shifts his position, raising a leg to have it rest on the other, and moving his arm down to rest on the leg. There's a moment of irritation as he looks down, first to his left arm, then where his right should be. The vampire shakes his head, attention returning to the matter at hand.

“Surprisingly useful information there,” He says, smirking a little. “I'm actually glad I pestered you into telling me this. Hm. Frederic Vonzel you said? Don't know him, though the name sounds German.” A disinterested shrug, followed by a look of distaste. “Ugh, you're seriously going to make me suffer through 'presenting myself'? Fine. I suppose it'll be necessary. If you get me a gizmo to hide the little evil stains in my aura you keep talking about, I'll think of a reason they might accept.” Chris raises his eyes in mock surprise and disappointment when he's basically called dispensable by the Tremere. “But I am one of a kind! Truly, if anyone should be indispensable, it should be me. Who'd you be left to game with if some overachieving little neonate decides to stick a stake through my heart! That guy might be developing a taste for it after the first success. You keep me safe from that brat's stabbing tendencies, and I'll play along with your world domination plans. Providing I get Russia. The rest is open for negotiation.”

The Tremere listens with half interest. He nods vaguely.
(Lyle) My explanation of the clans is only relevant today, and only to this city. He looks of German origins but nowadays, any given last name won't give you that much information on someone, with the country being such a melting pot. I'll let you handle your acceptance in the city. I do hope we still have one of those, if we don't you'll have to wait until I've made another.

He seems thoughtful a moment, wondering and silent.
(Lyle) I meant you as an addition to the Camarilla, or even as a clan. You as my playing partner, you are of course indispensable ! I'd feel so lonely without your inestimable, invaluable companionship !

Teasing and amused, the Tremere goes along to feed his friend's ego.
(Lyle) That would be a girl staker. A good looking woman to be honest, she looks incredibly human. I will keep away from you then ! He laughs and smiles. Russia is all yours as far as I'm concerned.

He stands to move towards the door.
(Lyle) You should finish healing while I go through our little objects for one to allow me to keep an eye- I mean, hiding your diablerie stains. Tssk. Need something else before I lock you up?

Chris gives a little chuckle, then a shrug. “Either way, it is useful to know about the latest developments, so this was quite valuable at this very moment.” He makes a vague gesture with his hand. “Might telling me where I'm going to have to 'present' myself? Before you go and get whatever it is you're going to give me.”
The vampire raises an eyebrow, visibly amused at Lyle's words. “But really, even to the Camarilla I would be an invaluable asset. Sure, you have all survived for many a century without me, but that's only because you didn't know any better. Though it's good to know at least someone appreciates me. I'll certainly remember that when executing my own nefarious plans.” He smirks, showing he merely jests. Or perhaps just pretending he is.

“Keep an eye on me as much as you want Lyle. You won't catch me doing anything nasty behind your back. If anything, I'll do it right in front of you.” Chris gives his shoulder a brief lookover as he begins to focus the necessary blood to returning his arm. “Well, you could not lock the door for one. And a new suit would be appreciated. All things considered, you could say I'm still in enemy territory. I should at least give a good first impression when asking permission to stick around in this town and make a pain of myself.”

Lyle huffs and shrugs, taking the words spoken by his friend lightly.
(Lyle) That's some honor you're making this sect, how thoughtful of you ! I certainly know you'll reward your most faithful servants.

He makes a deep and obvious fake bow, then smiles as he opens the door.
(Lyle) I'll see what I can do as far as clothing is concerned. I'd lend you one of mine but.. Fine, I won't lock the door, however be aware that if you leave this room without my permission, I will hunt you down and kill you myself.

His threat is quite serious, even if he speaks it with a certain "it's nothing" tone, smiling, amused, as if he was speaking of the weather.
(Lyle) The place where you'll present yourself will be the theatre just across the street.

He makes a vague gesture to his neck, to a non existent necklace, as he realizes it's not there, he lets show some feeling of loss. He then shrugs, shaking it off, and goes on.
(Lyle) I'm sure you'll do fine with Prince Gosuin but you'll have to behave and show submission and respect. You know, protocol. Even if he's no noble, he still embodies the job.

“Know your enemy and don't underestimate him, her or it.” He chuckles a little, his voice taking on an amused edge. “And hey, credit where credit's due. Two organizations, both at the other's throat and willing to make quite a mess of one another when given the chance, and yet both parties still exist to this day. Both groups screw up just enough and have just enough success to continue existing another night.”
Chris rolls his eyes when Lyle offers to lend pieces of his own wardrobe. He partially pushes himself off the couch as he points at the Tremere. “If you dare to try and put me in your clothing, then being damned be damned, I swear I'll strangle you with the fabric until it, or your neck, gives way! I'd look ridiculous in those oversized garments of yours and you know it!” He doesn't seem to be to concerned about the unveiled threat send his way, should he try to leave the room. Instead he just lets himself sink back in his seat, waving the comment off. “Don't fret it. I have no intentions of running away now that I can finally catch my breath and recover. I'll behave like the perfect gentleman before your Prince and give him all the respect he deserves.”

perception+politics>5:

The Tremere nods at Chris' words concerning the sect situations. He even confirms them with a muttered "amen" and a smile.
(Lyle) What you do not know is that my clothing is magic ! He chuckles. I'm sure you'll behave, don't worry, Gosuin isn't too much of a hassle. You'll have to behave anyway, lest you wish us to meet the sun together. That would certainly compromise our future games together. Do not worry, they'll find clothing your size. Mickey Mouse patterns, right ?

He laughs and leaves before something hits him in the face.
A good ten minutes after, there is a soft knock on the door, with a feminine voice behind it, which Chris may recognize. She sounds a little down, or maybe as if she's following orders. She may be under dominate, but if she is, it's a very skillful one.
(Marie) Mr. Chris ? Mr. Kersten sent me.

Chris gives a careless shrug, not to worried about the prospect of watching a sunrise were he to misbehave. “We'll just go down to hell together. I'm sure the Devil has some wifi set up. Before a week's passed, we'd be gaming with the evil big guy himself. But I agree that he can wait for a bit more. Couple centuries at least.” He snorts. “Only if you manage to conjure up some matching ears. Though I'd prefer Mario.”

He watches Lyle leave the room, and then, when he's alone, allows himself to slump down just a bit in the couch, followed by a sigh. The vampire idly gazes at the window, though his attention is on fixing his lost arm.

st:

When a knock sounds on the door, Chris is immediately alert again. His attention shoots toward the door, his body tensing to be ready for a potential attack. At the sound of the voice, he lets himself relax, shaking his head a little in amusement at his own, paranoid reaction. “Door's open.”

The receptionist enters the room slowly once she heard it was open. She wears the red scarf, trademark of the hotel, tied around her neck in an elegant knot, as she did earlier. She pushes inside a rack of clothing, which seem to have been stored (it still has the plastic and the tags given by a pressing). She nods and bows politely, then closes the door behind her.
(Marie) Mr. Kersten told me to bring you some clothes, size S. Please take what you need.

She moves the rack a little closer and steps back, letting the kindred have a look at the clothes offered ; they are all men's clothes : a couple of suit pants, three jackets or so, and half a dozen shirts (some are plain T's but they are mostly shirts that goes with suits). There are also a couple of ties. Chris can easily notice that the clothes are actually in the same tones of the dress code for the Hotel staff ; maybe they are spares for the staff.

Chris follows the receptionist's movements with slightly narrowed eyes then directs his attention to the clothing rack. He slowly rises and makes his way toward it, now completely disregarding the woman's presence. After some moments of shifting through the various clothing articles to get an idea of what they have, he pulls out a pair of suit pants with matching jacket, and a shirt. The ties he leaves for what they are. Items in hand, he wordlessly waves the Kine off.

perception + alertness>5:

He turns his back on the woman, seeming to be convinced she'd leave him alone now. With his regrown arm, he begins to strip away his ruined suit, letting them fall to the ground and pushing them aside with a slight kick. The replacement suit is pulled on swiftly, and Chris takes a few moments to test his movements and see if it fits well enough on his frame. “Should be acceptable I suppose,” he mumbles to no one in particular.

Marie takes back the rack. She speaks a few words before stepping out with a head bow.
(Marie) I'll be outside, if some retouching is needed or if you need anything else.

They are obviously custom made, but they are nor custom made for Chris ; the pants are a little too long, and the vest may be a little too wide (then, since the current fashion is very tight for the jackets, it could be acceptable).

Chris gives himself as good a look-over as he can, pulling a bit on the pants in displeasure at their length, reaching down to fold it up a bit so he doesn't stand on the fabric. He scowls a little, then shakes his head as he rises. “I should get a fitted replacement soon. Should still have plenty of funds for that.”

Silently musing to himself, the vampire once again takes a seat on the couch, gazing out the window without seeing anything. After a moment, he grumbles softly and rises again, beginning to pace infront of the window, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes fall on the clothing rack and he pauses, calling out to the receptionist presumably still behind the door. “You can take the rack away again.”

Marie opens the door to enter and recover the rack. She observes the change of cloth and nods.
(Marie) Does it need adjusting? Should I throw away your old garments ?
(Lyle) You'll worry about that later. Leave.

As Lyle enters the room and speaks to the receptionist in a commanding way, she bows and executes the inquiry, obeying the orders. Once they are alone and she had closed the door, Lyle tosses a Pokemon blue game boy game to Chris.
(Lyle) There. Stick that in one of your pockets and keep it safe. She served you well ?

taking the game:

Chris is about to open his mouth to answer the receptionist, but remains silent when Lyle reappears. He disregards her presence entirely as she moves away, instead focusing on the Tremere. As the object is thrown his way, Chris catches it reflexively, turning it over between his fingers to observe it. He raises an eyebrow in mild surprise, his attention returning to Lyle.
“Blue huh. Couldn't find Red for me? Much more my color. Or black.” He gives a small smirk to give a visible indication he's just jesting, then again observes the game in his fingers for a moment before tugging it in a pocket as requested.

“The girl? As well as any of her kind can I suppose.” He sounds dismissive of his mentions of the woman. “Before the night's over however, you're going to have to tell me where I can acquire a suit that actually fits me. Something custom fit.”
Chris turns his head toward the window and the Theater beyond that, past the plaza. “And before that, how about we get this silly charade over with and get me to the Prince? I would like to be able to hunt tonight without having to look over my shoulder the whole time.”

The Tremere smiles when his friend mentions other colors of the game, but he doesn't comment on it.
(Lyle) I think we'll have to do that another night. I kinda have to present a childe later too, so we'll use that opportunity. I have to think of a good excuse and a good token of respect... You can't really pop in, protocol... Unless you want to go freelance on it and act as if you didn't know me at all ?

He feigns being hurt, then laughs.
(Lyle) As for the fitting, ask the staff to retouch it during the day. For other clothes, I'm sure you can use the yellow pages.

He observes a moment his friend. He then meets his eyes and being all serious, states the dreaded conclusion.
(Lyle) I think a teens suit could do.

He smiles openly and waves it off with a chuckle.
(Lyle) Look, to be honest I don't think the Prince is in the right mood to accept a Lasombra presenting himself to him just like that. It almost killed him to accept the Giovannis a while back and he hasn't got over it yet. I'll leave those details to you, and if you lie about your clan, I'll cover your ass. It should cost you another favor, but you're already in deep shit and I'm feeling generous. You're welcome.

The Tremere nods, thoughtful.
(Lyle) You got yourself a map of the city ? You could probably hunt easily, after all, Kindred can't all present themselves the very same night they arrive in town. Open up your computer, I'll show you a few places. Don't draw too much attention to yourself by leaving a trail of dead bodies behind you, some news lately could attract our enemies' attention, you hungry bastard.

He thinks about it a moment, pulling back the sleeve of his shirt to see his unharmed arm. 
(Lyle) Have I become a Pez ? Anyway.. 

He pulls it down and shrugs. He's distracted by a slight knock on the door and a female voice. Lyle moves closer to the door.
(Corinna) Mr Kersten ?
(Lyle) For f.. I'm busy.
(Corinna) May I come in ? It is quite important..
(Lyle) No !
(Corinna) Regen-?

The Tremere growls, closes his fists, frustrated. He interrupts her.
(Lyle) I'm having sex for the love of god, now get the fuck out and if you need anything, ask Horsman. 

A little silence appears and stays, before one can hear the woman's small heels leave in haste and certainly in shock.

Chris rolls his eyes slightly, but after a moment of feigned contemplation nods slowly in agreement. “I wouldn't dream of ditching you. Far to much at stake. Who'd cover my back during the raids if not you?” He lets the question hang in the air for a moment as though he seriously expects an answer. He continuous with the clothing subject quickly enough though, giving a bit of a dismissive wave. “Fine fine, I'll inform them to fit it properly.”

:

At the Tremere's joke, Chris slowly and deliberately raises a fist, and just as slowly, lifts his middle finger. He doesn't say anything though, and lets the matter slide at that one show of defiance. He merely listens with some interest as Lyle raises the issue of his clan and the possibility the Prince would be less than accepting of him. His expression becomes notably more serious, and he contemplates the possibilities carefully before he answers.

“I do not intend to hide my clan. Our signature discipline not to mention the fact we have no reflections are both rather revealing to the true nature of my blood. While I certainly appreciate your offer to cover for me on this, something will undoubtedly come up that will reveal me to be a Lasombra rather than what I claimed to be before, with your assistance. And then the bothersome questioning and what not will begin, which really is much more a hassle than just being forthright about this.” His mind appears set on this decision. “As for being accepted despite my clan's ominous reputation,” He puts a sarcastic emphasize on 'ominous', “bargains can be made. Like you mentioned before, I am not a worthless shovelhead with nothing to give in exchange for his hide.”

Moving towards the couch where he'd left his bag when asked about a map, Chris seats himself and pulls said bag toward him. He is already pulling a top of the line laptop free while the Tremere is still mentioning him to get it open. He flashes his friend a grin that shows his fangs and makes a definite show of eyeing the other's neck. “Careful who you're calling a hungry bastard. I might decide to stick around here when I start hunting, and I have a tendency to bite the neck that feeds me. Your blood is rather nice and thick....” He grins again, though this time without the fangs, proving himself to be merely jesting. For the most part at least. As Lyle turns to deal with the person on the other end of the door, Chris works on booting up his laptop and bringing up Google maps centered on Bordeaux.
With the page waiting, the Lasombra leans back in the seat and listens with some amusement to how the woman is basically chased away by Lyle. He waits until he hears the departing footsteps before he comments, his face deadpan serious. “You should probably know that in these situations I'm more of a giver rather than a taker.” He pauses, the shadows below him writhing for just a moment. A small smirk plays on his lips. “I do hope you like it rough?”

Once he is sure Corinna has left, Lyle listens and smiles, falsely reassured he won't be ditched now that he has been fed upon.
(Lyle) I'm grateful I'm not your one night stand.

He openly laughs about it. He agrees about the clan matter.
(Lyle) Of course if you intend to be all shadowy about everything.. Be careful as each of your moves will be watched, and be sure no benefit of the doubt will be given. I'm certain they will appreciate your plain honesty about it !

He's being cynical about it. An honest kindred. He approaches, uncaring of the shadows, and unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt, to show his throat as he speaks.
(Lyle) If really. Apprentices don't understand my regular plain "no"s, so they're used to me telling them in a very shocking way to leave me alone or to solve their own problems. And I very well know exactly what my blood does on younger weaker children. It forced you into submission already. If going for my neck is enough to ease your mind, blah. But to be blunt, and accept my sincerest apologies for breaking your heart, I am not interested in 'knowing' you. That's probably the one sin that doesn't concern me.

While he is serious about apprentices and sinning, he is obviously being a little over the top with Chris' submission (he indicated his wrist as he said it, knowing very well that one doesn't accept drinking from the arm unless they recognize his authority), as well as speaking about breaking his heart by refusing sex.

Chris gives an audible snort of disdain. “I'll be honest about everything as far as anyone else will know, and for as long as it is most beneficial to my own health. Truth is always but a matter of perspective. As for being watched, I'll wish them all the luck in the world trying to catch me and evade my notice.” He sounds dismissive of the warning given to him, confident in his own abilities. “They'll need it.”

The unbuttoning inadvertently draws the Lasombra's attention towards Lyle's throat where his gaze lingers. Thirst and an bestial desire to sate it flickers in his eyes, but is quickly contained, forced back by will and ego to the darker corners of his consciousness. Chris' eyes narrow in displeasure however, when Lyle mentions how he'd fed from the Tremere, calling him submissive. He glares at his friend, making a visible effort to restrain himself, though there is little doubt that had it not been Lyle to speak these words, and had Chris not been indebted to him already, he would have been less than friendly about it. His voice sounds tight through gritted teeth when he speaks after a calming breath. “Never assume me to be submissive. Yes, I may follow the occasional, sensible order, however that is not because I accept an authority above my own.” He turns away from the Tremere at that, focusing again on his laptop, making a vague gesture at it with a hand. His tone is back to normal. “Now get your lazy ass here and show me those areas you mentioned before. Tempting as it is to take all the vitae I need from you, it could be rather disastrous if I get addicted.”

Lyle lets go the subject of honesty. He does smile openly when his friend mentions anyone needing luck to find him.
(Lyle) How fair of you. It's fine. You can be a good obeying pet.

He signs he's fucking with him and smiles, amused, a bit pushy about it.
(Lyle) Don't worry, my opinion of you couldn't get any lower anyway, so you won't be downgraded just because you drank from my wrist like a ghoul whore in need. The more addicted, the better !

He doesn't come; the computer moves the map, turns it around to google street view, and marks some spots, seemingly all alone.
(Lyle) The docks are full of nightclubs. They are cleaner now than they used to be. There are a few clubs and restaurants, just southern from here. There are tons of fastfoods too. If you get around the other side of the river, you'll have as many prostitutes as you want ; you'll owe the setites though. This club right here belongs to some old ghoul, it's kinda Elysium so it's relatively safe. It's also quite dark. Hm.. This area is to avoid, the Brujah don't like invasions and God help you if you cross Theodore's path without being invited.

He marks another few spots of interests ; cybercafés, IT shops, known hooking up places, and some quiet suburban areas. He notes down the Hotel, the Theatre and El Bodegon. He also notes Saint Eloi. He approaches calmly.
(Lyle) If you ever need to talk to a priest you can go there. Well, as soon as it's repaired. Father Eliet may have to hold sessions elsewhere since that Vonzel bastard thought the Church had something of his interest. I'm pretty sure he knows that we exist, and he knows me in particular. Of course he doesn't know any more than that.

He sits next to his friend with a playful smirk.
(Lyle) Now, my faithful servant.. Anything else you'd need ?