30 April 2003, night.

K. C. pages: *ringring* (assuming the phone gets answered) Mr. Salem? It's K. C.

You paged K. C. with 'Evening. What can I do for you?'.

K. C. pages: Hi. Ah, nothing to do, really, but grab a piece of paper and a pen. I've got some things you might want to write down.

You paged K. C. with 'Oh? One moment. (pause) ...All right. Go ahead.'.

K. C. pages: Okay. First things first, the prince of St. Claire -- if he's really a prince -- is a caitiff. I should've said something about that before, but it's not very helpful. Second thing, there's a vampire in town named Troy. A Ventrue, from what I hear. Don't know if he's done anything we'd know about, but if he's here, he's bound to be up to no good.

You paged K. C. with '(There's a pause. A _long_ one. Then Salem's voice, very flat and quiet.) ...Say that again.'.

From afar, K. C. hesitates before saying, "Um. Prince of St. Claire. Caitiff. Troy. Ventrue."

You paged K. C. with 'Another pause, much shorter this time. "Jesus Christ fucking a _stick_. ...Are you going to be able to make the meeting next week?"'.

From afar, K. C. sounds like she might be smiling a little. That, or she's nervous. "Assuming that I don't lose my head sometime between now and then, I should, yes."

Long distance to K. C.: Salem grunts. "Good. Be prepared to give details. Shit. I was hoping the little fuckers weren't organized."

From afar, K. C. hesitates again, then: "Son of a *bitch*! What? Oh, right. Details. Whatever I can get. I've got to go. Look ...there's another one. A guy, dressed like a businessman. Name's Orin or .. or Orion! Orion, that's it. I don't know what he is, or where he is now," she admits wryly. "He's the guy that's giving out the information, though. Damn! I have to find him."

Long distance to K. C.: Salem says curtly, "Do so. And good work."

K. C. pages: Thanks. *click*