Royal Pain in the- {backdated to the 20th}

[dirtyredneck]

The request for discretion in the matter of the kidnapping and rescue didn't surprise him. It happened quite a bit, especially for those who were higher profile in the London social circles - both supernatural and not. The divulging of who was actually in trouble and who they were related to, however, had Daryl walking on a tight rope while trying to track down whatever leads he could.

[ooc: kidnapping plot I was supposed to put log up for last week. Sorry for the late!]

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[baisant]

Jean-Claude offers the other man a smile, especially at the set to his shoulders and the fact that he can tell that this is a man very far out of his element and without a rock to stand on, as it were. He knows not to push him too far lest he topple over, but he'll be damned if he isn't at least somewhat tempted.

"Come this way, then," he says, and steps back to lead the other man back through the Employee's Only door and down the hallway until they reach his office. Ushering him in before closing the door behind him. The place is immaculate, decorated minimally but with Jean-Claude's obvious touches on it. Large black lacquered desk, white sofa, white carpet, black leather chairs -- it's all very much to his tastes. "Would you care to sit, mon ami?" he offers, and beckons him forward to one of the chairs as he all but folds himself into the sofa in turn. No one should be able to cross their legs like this in leather pants but somehow, Jean-Claude manages.

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl followed after, all his personal motions taunt and tight, like he was trying to keep everything about himself as close as possible. He was completely out of place and the even getting away from the public fascade of the place didn't do anything to ease his sense of discomfort. Hell, the leather chairs, which should have been welcoming, only made him more aware of just how dirty he currently was. Which, honestly, wasn't a lot, but he was far from immaculate. The black leather was probably the better choice, regardless, so he was glad for the small mercy that he'd been invited to sit in them and not on the couch.

Still, when he did sit, he sat on the very edge of the chair. He let his hands drop into his lap and leaned forward a bit before finding that too uncomfortable and having to sit up because of the edge of the chair digging into his ass. His own fault, but hell, he didn't want to leave smudges and get billed for the cleaning.

"Ain't gonna be long," he attempted to assure the other man, but really, he was reassuring himself.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude regards the other man and his uncomfortable shifting and, well, his discomfort in general and cannot help but think to himself how charming he is. How refreshing it is to have someone like this pay him a visit. It rather reminds him of when Lancelot had come to play bodyguard for his Politics Theme Night. He wonders whether this man would consider such an offer. He would certainly pay him handsomely. And he'd enjoy getting to admire him for the evening besides.

"Do not worry," he reassures, cocking his head at the other man with a smile. "Ask your questions, mon cher, it is only us here." He only barely restrains himself from commenting that he would give him the whole evening, if he required it of him. But he manages it. Sometimes being a man like Jean-Claude is knowing when to exercise at least some modicum of self-control.

[dirtyredneck]

Mon cher. That mean something like 'my love' or something, didn't it? Shit, he wasn't sure, but he thought he'd heard that at one point. Daryl's jaw twitched and he shifted in his seat again, eyes fighting to stay on Jean-Claude's face but having little success.

"Just looking to see if the guy that took your girl..." Cherry was a girl, right? "If he might be the same one that took the one I'm looking for. Pretty sure he's part of the Nest."

[baisant]

'My dear', actually, but close enough. It is certainly a term of endearment, as Jean-Claude is so fond of using, and though usually he just sticks to 'my friend' around other men, especially when he doesn't know how well they will handle more, well... He admits that he could not help himself here.

"Do you know who it is you are looking for?" Jean-Claude replies, tilting his head at the other man, curious this time. He wonders who else in the vampire community might be causing trouble. For it certainly isn't Valentine again. Not if Natasha and Evie were telling the truth in the fact that they had disposed of the sorry excuse of an upstart as they had told him they had.

[dirtyredneck]

"Last name's Vonnor," Daryl answered, trying to avoid letting his gaze follow the line the tilting of Jean-Claude's neck created. The stretch of his neck down to a slightly lowered shoulder that flowed into an arm resting over his knee which sat high over the other leg. Both limbs long and lean and well defined in the tight leather pants he was wearing. It wasn't that he really cared to look, but that the man definitely knew how to hold himself in a way that drew the eye naturally to what he wanted them to. Assuming he wanted people to check his legs out. Why else would he wear pants like that?

Shit. Daryl wrenched his eyes away when he realized he'd been looking and staring longer than he needed to.

Another hard gulp and he rushed out, "Lucius Vonnor. Part of the Nest."

[baisant]

Why would Jean-Claude want people to check out his legs? Well, probably because he had really nice legs, for one. For another, because he has a really nice behind and he knows it. Alas he's sitting on it at the moment, and thus not at the liberty to flaunt it at the other man. As he might. He's going easy on you here, Daryl.

"Mmm," Jean-Claude hums slightly. "And you are certain that this Vonnor is the one you are after?" The name is ringing something of a bell for Jean-Claude, but he cannot say for certain just what. He must not be a very important vampire within the community. Or certainly not a very vocal one, at that.

[dirtyredneck]

He nodded and forced himself to refocus his eyes on the wall behind Jean-Claude's head. Where he could see movement, but his gaze wouldn't betray him.

"That's the name I was given by those that would know," Daryl answered. He wasn't going to get into the details if he could help it. He really hoped he wouldn't have to say much more on the matter.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude sits back, reclining slightly against the back of the sofa but still keeping himself poised, legs crossed, draping one arm across the back as he does. Another pose, of course. Is he taunting the poor man? Of course not...

"And you are here asking after the vampire who was after my Cherry?" he inquires in turn. As if he wants to be certain of the details, and not because he wants to draw this out for as long as he can so that he can watch the other man squirm.

[dirtyredneck]

"Yeah," he confirmed, having been sure he'd made that clear enough it didn't need to be confirmed. But it was starting to get stuffy enough Daryl was having a hard time focusing. He really needed to make this short and get out of there.

"Was he the one that took your girl?"

[baisant]

Ah, Jean-Claude cannot talk himself around such a direct question as that, not without it being obvious that he is dragging things out on purpose at this point. He sighs slightly, sobering before shaking his head.

"The vampire who took our Cherry was a man named Valentine," he says. "Who, as far as I have been told, has been disposed of. I must admit, I have never heard of this vampire you speak of yourself. But rarely is anything done in our society without some sort of higher motive."

[dirtyredneck]

It wasn't the same, then. That was good. Well, not good. Just good that it meant Daryl didn't have any reason to stick around wallowing in his discomfort. It was bad that he basically no other leads, however.

"Not at all?" It was kind of hard to believe so few people knew the asshole he was looking for. Sure, the people who hired him had been able to find out who he was - something about them having access to a lot of legal avenues most of the supernatural community didn't - but even they had been able to get a location. Just a name and a previously known address that was a good hundred years out of date and long since burned down. Either the Nest was good at hiding their own, or he'd never really put roots down since.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude shakes his head. "He is not one of the older vampires in the city," he replies. Which means that he's an upstart and if he's doing something to put him in trouble, then he will soon make a mistake that will get him killed. Either by the hunter before him or through some other means. Perhaps another vampire within the nest. Such things have been known to happen. If you are not smart, if you seek to aim beyond your reach before you're ready, then there's a good chance that you will be cut down.

He cocks his head to the side at the other man once more. "You are after this vampire, oui?" he questions. "He has taken a hostage, perhaps? Tell me. What is your goal? You are aiming to find him and rescue the girl, and what then? What will you do with him once he has been caught?"