(Collab between Grec and I.)

It took Darby only a moment to remember the creepy son of a bitch's stubborn refusal, or perhaps inability, to speak, and the neonite sighed and grabbed for the patch-covered leather cut thrown across one arm of the worn couch. He was pretty sure he was never going to understand Nagloper.

"Alright, lead the way." The biker said, slipping on the vest and a pair of riding gloves. Darby walked out of the apartment and into the alleyway, where the giant bat-monster landed. The Sheriff reverted back to his human form, the term "human" being used very loosely to describe the 9 foot tall monster vampire. The Sheriff led Darby through the alleyways of Downtown L.A until he reached Venture Tower, and they went in through the back entrance as to not attract attention. They went up the elevator to the penthouse floor and saw Lacroix waiting for them.

"Ah, mister Darby I presume. The Camarilla has an important mission for you. We need you to retrieve the Ankaran Sarcophagus." Lacroix said. Darby had to struggle to keep the scowl from his face as he listened to Lacroix's 'hail fellow, well met' heartiness, arms folded over his chest. Oh, Lacroix could play up the Camarilla's act of all Kindred being equal, but he couldn't hide the edge in his tone, the contempt he had for the Brujah fledgling from his eyes. He'd never liked to suffer fools or the bourgeois cunts who treated him like shit they'd scrape off their shoe, and he normally would have happily put a few teeth down their throat. A Camarilla Prince, however, was not the normal sort, and even he wasn't stupid enough to invite that kind of trouble for sake of sticking it to the man. Still, he felt the need to slight him somehow, and was preparing to light up a cigarette when Lacroix gave him his job. The smoke fell from his lips.

"Are you shittin' me right now?" He said, beady eyes narrowing at the prince. This was either a test or a trap, and either way he didn't like where this was going. "You want me to fetch a goddamn sarcophagus?"

"The Sacrophagus is hidden deep within the Museum. You are not to kill any of the security guards there, we can't have mortals knowing the existence of the supernatural. Now, be off" Lacroix said, apparently content to leave it at that.Darby's eyes narrowed again, trying to read the man's face as he spoke. He couldn't keep the scowl from his face now.

"Why me? Way you're talkin' it sounds like this is the biggest find of the goddamn century. Like you oughta be sendin' some big badass like the sheriff here. So why ya sendin' me, the poor ol' neonite Brujah that's barely been Kindred for two years?"

"We need someone who can be inconspicuous. My Sheriff's skill set isn't exactly specializing in subterfuge. Now go." Lacroix said. Translation: "You're expendable, and I don't want to waste anyone I actually give a shit about on this."

Darby grunted shortly, reaching down to pick up his fallen smoke, striking a match to light it as he nodded up to the Prince. He really hated that frigging smug, oh so punchable face.

"Yessir, your highness." He said, his tone far from deferential as he started to walk out of the office. Well, he'd enjoy seeing that smug melt off the fucker's face when he came back with the sarcophagus. And this would be a great opportunity to see how his wraith did on the job...