[i][b]S[/b][/i]yn’s eyes focused upon the smooth smudge free bar beneath which he wiped clean with a microfibre cloth. His attention occupied with the curiosities of events transpiring across the city and further outward to India. With an attention to detail as controlled as his own, the Lasombra felt the wavering tension as esteemed guests had begun their approach into his territory. It seemed that his calling cards were delivered with utmost efficiency, Alexa had done herself proud again. 

[i][b]T[/b][/i]he words ‘Remind me again why I agreed to this?’ puncture a relaxed ambience as the Ventrue and his female companion entered his establishment. A soft laugh escapes Syn’s lips as he elegantly took two flat bottom glasses and a bottle of his [u]Picasso[/u] branded single malt whiskey. The Lasombra’s aura radiating a constant, unrelenting force of sheer indomitable will. [i]“Because I called for you and I do believe it is polite that I make myself known in the city of which I reside.”[/i] An accent of smooth French reaching their ears with a refined tone. How old was Syn exactly? A smile spread upon his lips as he stood before the two of his esteemed guests.[i] “Pleasure to meet you finally.”[/i] Syn’s left hand extends one of the two glasses to each of them as he continues. [i]“My name is Syn De Rais and welcome to Gallery 66.” [/i]

[i][b]S[/b][/i]yn’s movements paused for a moment, a soft smirk spreading across his lips before returning his attention to the two guests. [i]“It seems the remainder of my guests is on their way.”[/i] How Syn knew that two cars were within minutes of approaching his establishment, he did not say. Instead, he busied himself with pouring the two glasses with a small amount of his Picasso single malt. [i]“All drinks and other desires are free for those who gather here tonight. This is my party, and no guest shall cover a single cost.”[/i] The words fell from his lips in that fluent French accent, the melody harmonious to any who heard it. 

[i][b]R[/b][/i]eturning his attention to the bar, Syn placed the freshly opened bottle down on the bench upon a brass tray. Stepping behind the bar, Syn took another tray from beneath the counter and set it upon the bar. Step by step Syn moved the elegantly in the process. Each movement intentional, refined and careful. Vanity ran deep into his core. Every action must be beautiful and with purpose. One by one various glass from Cherri glasses to champagne glasses of beautiful crystal were checked for any dust or refuse then sat upon the tray. Following a small crystal bowl was placed in the middle of the glasses. Wide at the opening but shallow which Syn filled with black marble cubes that were chilled. These cubes were a substitute for ice, something he preferred for his guests. Looking up towards his current guests, he spoke calmly. [i]“If you find yourself a place to make yourself comfortable, please do so.” [/i]

[i][b]S[/b][/i]yn’s demeanour was a juxtaposition. His aura whispered desires of domination and submission of all subjects beneath him while action and speech spoke of treating others as equals. Was it because that these guests of his were in positions of merit? Or did he have far more nefarious plans? Tonight would tell all. Turning his back to the bar, Syn began choosing an array of his hand-crafted spirits. First, he chose a beautiful bottle of [u]Augustine #5[/u] A multi-distilled and refined Vodka infused with vitae. Following on came two whiskeys, an Aged 35-year blended whiskey, an aged 18 Rye and the prior opened single malt. Finishing the assembly of drinks, Syn removed a bottle of white and red wine from his personal collection. The red, a beautiful Cabernet Franc barrelled in 1974 while the white an elegant Sauvignon blanc. 

[i][b]H[/b][/i]is assembly of drinks was completed as the second series of his guests had arrived. Had Syn not noticed the Tremere that stepped through his door prior? Perhaps not, if he did Syn said nothing of the matter. Turning his attention to the new entrance, he, of course, caught the minor interaction between them. It seemed that his meeting had prior connections with each other. Syn had been about to speak when another woman and man followed suit. The four new guests had taken their way towards the end booth away from everyone, Syn smiled. Upon the door closing, and with keen hearing would hear the door lock itself, as to prevent others from joining their small gathering.

[i][b]S[/b][/i]yn’s eyes focused however on the man that followed in with the first woman, to whom he had guessed was the Baron of the city. His intelligence had eluded to that possibility but the man that was beside her, he felt Off. Sliding around the bar, his steps silent as the women speak amongst themselves. Their chatter about drinks catching his attention. 

‘Oh, but it’s never soon enough, sweetie.’ The beautiful blonde spoke openly only for Syn to respond instantaneously from behind her. His presence, cold and unwavering, the etching of age and power seeping through him.[i] “To whom you must ask for a drink would be me.”[/i] Syn shifted past the young woman to place the drink selection and the glasses down on the booth’s benchtop before rising to his full height, grey suit immaculate and without a crease. [i]“My name is Syn De Rais, and I would like to officially welcome you to my establishment.”[/i] After a brief pause to see the reaction, he continued. [i]“Please enjoy the selection of drinks before you on the house.”[/i] 

[i][b]T[/b][/i]urning his attention to the Ventrue, now known to be Nicolaus, he was the Archon of the Camarilla before returning his attention to the gathering.[i] “Thank you for coming. I would have visited myself, but you all have been rather busy.”[/i] Syn continued. [i]“I want to know what it is I can do for this city. I know about San Francisco, and I know the Sabbat are making moves for businesses in this city.”[/i] Upon the word ‘Sabbat’ leaving his tongue the word was said vehemently, malicious hate for such leeches. [i]“So, what can I lend to this city to protect my new home?”[/i]