Brujah be Brujah

Amy heard her name spoken from the front door of her Manor home and turned her head, cocking a brow over one icy eye. She had expected to see Quinn, but she was surprised that it was all happening so quickly. She hadn't yet heard from Abbadon and her lover to know if the situation had resolved itself. Glancing up at the seven foot tall giant that stood at her side, eggplant hair and all, she gave an idle shake of her head. There was nothing he could do about everything until she had spoken to Quinn herself.

Standing from her bar stool, she waved to the young retainer that stared, wide-eyed, at the Brujah Primogen. The woman glanced back and forth between her Prince and the offensive woman. She hesitated only a moment longer before hurrying away, going back to the chores the O'Connors always kept her busy with.

"Quinn," she greeted with a wave of her hand. "Please, do come in." Amy floated across the floor, leaving Finn alone at the bar. She made her way to the door, holding it open to welcome the Primogen inside. "I plan on holding Court later tonight. Did you have a pressing matter to discuss beforehand?" Her brow cocked once more, as if challenging the Brujah before her. It was something the Ice Queen was well known for doing. If somebody hoped to be a part of her Court, they had to remain strong.

"For what reason, exactly?" The Ice Queen asked, closing the door behind her Primogen. She gave a slight shake of her head, wondering what, exactly, was going to happen in the midst of this conversation. She understood why the woman would be upset, what with multiple of her Clan dead, but she also agreed with the fact that the brutes were to blame.

Both times members of Quinn's Clan had fallen, the fight could have been avoided. Finn, the lunatic that remained seated at the bar, had personally been present during both occurrences, and even he had vouched for their brutality and refusal to stand down. Despite his utter madness, there was no one that Amy O'Connor trusted more.

Walking back towards the bar, she raised one gloved hand and motioned to the youthful retainer tasked with making the drinks of the evening. Cho, as Harpy, had been requested to attend the meeting later in the evening. "Would you like something to drink, Primogen Velour?"

Prepared for her outburst, the Prince did not respond to the aggression. She let her make her way over to the bar uninterrupted, where she was served her drink without a word from the Harpy or Malkavian Primogen. Amy smiled towards the eggplant haired monster, but it was to calm the tension in his shoulders. Despite himself, Finn was preparing for a fight.

"I called nothing into question. I simply asked for specificity, Primogen Velour." She moved across the wooden floor, receiving her usual glass of merlot from the woman waiting. Cho was not present, and so the drink mixed for both was heavy on vitae and significantly less liquor than the Toreador would pour.

Perching on the bar stool, Amy swept a hand beneath herself to straighten her skirts like the proper lady she was, and turned her icy gaze towards the woman. Her head tilted to one side, silver curls bouncing as she stared at her, unbothered. "What, exactly, is it that you have come to discuss with me?"

The moment the glass shattered against a wall, a retainer was there to clean the broken shards from the floor. All of the ghouls knew that their mistress hated mess, and the longer she had to stare at the broken shot glass, the angrier she would become. With Quinn's anger and brutality, the last thing they needed was an upset Amy.

"Rise, Quinn Velour," the Prince murmured, coming to stand just in front of her Primogen. In a show of humility and kindness, she reached out one hand, presenting it to the Brujah in friendship and recognition of what she offered. The woman took the blame of her Clan's actions, which meant that both Finn and Eto were off the hook. If somebody was willing to take the punishment for the deaths of the three Brujah, then those that had actively moved against them were free to walk.

"You are the only member of your Clan with the knowledge, awareness, and loyalty to lead. You are one of the select few of this City that I trust. Your position is safe, and I trust you, as Primogen, to deal with the situation as you see fit." She did not try to humiliate the woman kneeling before her, attempting to show that she was still worthy of a position that never came into question. "During this time of war, we do not need turmoil on our home front. I trust you to instill this knowledge into your Clan."

So long as the woman stood, she would motion her over towards the bar, where she moved to sit once more in a sweep of ruffles and fabric. She took hold of her glass once more, giving a slight swirl of the dark liquid within. "If I have your assurance that this issue will not happen again, then I am content to allow it to pass. I trust you, Quinn, and your Clan trusts you. Nagasaki needs strong warriors like you in the leadership roles."

Amy chuckled softly, mostly to herself, and gave a shake of her head. She knew many people who had asked her to fight them, to strike them as some sort of penance, but she rarely fulfilled their wishes. She was raised by a violent father, but he never struck those that asked. The barbaric practices, as he so often referred to blood punishments, were for those who needed to spill blood in order to show their dominance. A Ventrue should never have to stoop so low.

When the bartender turned to her for approval, she offered a single, subtle nod of her head, remaining where she was. Finn did not bother to speak to his fellow Primogen, sipping on a low ball glass full of some kind of dark, almost black liquid. In fact, all he did to acknowledge the shift in Quinn's attention was a tip of an imaginary glass before he went back to his drink.

"The other Court members should arrive within a few hours," Amy murmured, thoughtfully. She knew Mizuki would arrive after most of the others, but she didn't know when her Scourge, Harpy, and other Primogen would show their faces. They seemed to keep themselves busy until she needed them. Of course, she expected her Kindred to have lives of their own, but it was often a bit difficult to organize such an extensive meeting around their respective schedules.

"Avice Locke is not her mother," she admitted with a nod of her head, sipping the wine the retainer had provided for her. She could feel the magic washing through her muscles, giving her the energy she craved nightly. "She is, as you said, her prodigy. While still youthful, I have no doubts that she will live up to Inuko's expectations. If she had no chance, she would not have been adopted."

Amy smiled softly as she turned her focus to her Primogen, allowing the conversation to flow. The Brujah were known for their brutality, and while she did not think less of Quinn for the Clan that Embraced her, she often kept the woman at an arm's distance. Speaking low of Inuko Locke was frowned upon to say the least, and most were too intimidated to even try. The consequences were often violent, dangerous, and the Prince would not offer a second chance.

"I trust her judgment, even to this day." It was not a hidden fact that the Wraiths of the Locke couple had returned from the Shadowlands, haunting the consecrated grounds of their Memorial. It was also well known that the Prince visited them quite often and still asked both for advice when she was unsure.