---

Travis nodded once again to the follow Gangrel when he gets hand-waved. He was antsy to get into a good scrap, prove his mettle and have a little fun. He was a dirty fighter by habit, but he wasn't going to be the A-hole bringing a gun to a fistfight. "Tooth and Claw" He says with a grin hidden by his bandana. "I aint heeled 'cept for my ace in the hole" a little two shot revolver in his boot. It wouldn't do much as far as stopping power, but in a pinch he could shoot someone's eye out. "I got nothing but time Wodeward, go on with your discourse. I'll think on it" He didn't have a spot in mind, he was new in town and didn't quite have the lay of the land just yet. He just knew here was not the place.

He turns to Sergine and Abel, always up to have an audience. It raised the stakes a bit, and ole Black Cat liked to live dangerously. "Eww wheee we got us some spec-ta-tors. I have no doubts dear Geoffrey, and myself of course, would oblige your request to watch us fine gentlemen engage in fisticuffs. I do admit I am new in town and don't know the area terribly well." He does have a map though. "I would not at all be opposed to allowing a neutral party to choose the location if Geoffrey don't. We can iron out the wrinkles, but I'll let y'all get on back to your conversation. The night's still young." He says with a chuckle. - he was ready to scrap, but he was also just anxious to get outside.

Travis wasn't nearly as interested in Abel's backstory as he was the potent drink the Toreador had given him. He leans against a nearby column and pulls the bottle out of his hat, glancing from the bottle to Able and back to the bottle, shrugging his shoulders briefly before sliding his hat up under his arm and uncorking the bottle to take another swig. He nods to himself a few times and has to admit its unlike anything he's had before, and it tastes pretty good to boot. He was already getting tired of pulling his bandana up and down every time he wants a sip. He would stay for the other Gangrel to finish his conversation, out of respect. If he smoked he would have excused himself and went outside to smoke, but naw... he's just gonna stand around and wait.

---

Travis examines the bottle for a long moment, shrugging off the pat on the back from Dio with a slight nod of acknowledgment. He takes the bottle by the neck and swirls it around a couple of times and glances back to Abel, but he don't speak French, so whatever he was chatting with Faith about was lost on him. He tucks his hat up under one arm and opens the bottle, quickly sniffing the air before tossing one back. - He uses the bottle to block his face, careful not to let anyone, or any cameras, get a clear view of his feline canines.

He chuckles a little when Geoffrey mentions one of his exploits in Austin, TX. It was top of his list for sharing at Clan Gathers, and when it came to boasting and bragging Rites, he was a big talker that used that particular story to bait other Gangrel into calling his bluff. He wasn't altogether surprised about that one getting tossed around. "Sure sounds like something I would do... but you sir cain't be Geoffrey... Wodeward, the very same Geoffrey that shot his way out of the Long Branch Saloon? Boy howdy I heard you was outnumbered and outgunned" He laughs "Sure good to see you're above snakes." He was used to the competitive back and forth at Gathers, but it was interesting how they were spinnin it 'roundways and bringing up each other's stories now.

Travis didn't get long to enjoy the moment, and he knew it was coming... well, not this exactly, but he knew something was coming. Faith wasn't just going to let him slip by with a simple 'evening' like they didn't go back a ways. It wasn't anything personal, and they didn't really know each other back then, but it was enough to leave an impression, and possibly some bad blood. "Ms. Everette, my apal-o-gies. You're more beautiful than I remember, and I plum didn't recognize you. I guess I ain't reckon just how small these circles can get. I hope thar's no hard feelings atween us after all this time" He says, sincerely.

He shoots a quick look around the room, scanning for reactions. It didn't seem like she was still sore at him, but iffin she was he was going to try and figure who's side who was on. Giving his best guess he figured Clan Brujah were in long supply. Faith also had friends outside her Clan... the pretty boy didn't say much, but even a raised eyebrow says something to a poker player like Black Cat. - It wouldn't be his first time outgunned and outnumbered, but he was going to play it cool and see it through.

---

Travis saunters on over to the group, a sly smile plays on his lips hidden behind a simple black bandana. Feline eyes flick between the different Kindred as he approaches, his gaze landing on Geoffrey briefly with a slight inclination of his head one more again. He stands just outside the group, his hat in hand. He listens twice as much as he talks, as a general rule... but being new in town he wouldn't have much to add to the conversation anyway. He might have a vague idea of what's going on, but he was here more to find out what the situation was, and it sounded like he came to the right place.

He listens for a bit, his attention shifting between the different people talking. He wasn't sizing anyone up as much as he was watching body language, mannerisms, and gathering information on the local factions. Independent to a fault, and a rolling stone, it helped to get informed quickly when entering a new area. He had been through Florida a number of times, but never long enough to kick his boots off. Tampa, St Petersberg, Clearwater. Those were just dots on a map back east... yet here he was.

"Th'names Black Cat Calloway" He speaks up, squeezing into the smallest possible opening in the conversation before it turns to Clearwater. "I couldn't help but notice y'all passin 'round sumpthin" He tugs his bandana down below his nose, sniffin at the air before looking to the Toreador. "Sumpthin that smells reaaaaaal nice" He lifts an eyebrow. "Watcha' name? Watcha drinkin on? Can I get a glass?"

Travis would let them get back to talking area politics in just a shake - scoot in, get a drink, scoot out.

---

Travis J. Calloway. Black Cat Calloway. Black Cat. Or... juss plain ole Travis. - The Gangrel with the cat-like eyes and the permanent fangs.

Ole Black Cat Calloway may or may not have worn out his welcome out west, and after spending a few months going quite literally to ground, he was ready to try his luck back east. He was known to travel 'round, but typically hung his hat in Texas, Oklahoma, or Arizona. Tampa Florida had been on his radar for some time, but he always found a reason to go somewhere else. - Now he was dusting the dirt of his boots and making a rare appearance at Elysium, if anything to make his presence known and rub elbows with other Kindred for a change. It was kinda nice to socialize on neutral ground, even if it put him on alert not being armed. 

Travis traveled fairly light considering he hitched his horse trailer to his mustang and drove to Tampa with not much else 'cept the clothes on his back and a small assortment of pistols. He opted to stop at a western wear outlet in Dallas, taking 1-20 east towards Atlanta and hooking south towards Tampa. - He cleaned up nice; shined his boots up real good, slicked his coal black hair back, and even took the time to iron his shirt new button down shirt and black denim pants in the cheap highway adjacent motel. He put on his favorite bolo tie, the one with the silver stiletto tipped aiguillettes and the golden honey hued cats eye gem.

He would, however, still opt to tie a simple black bandana around the lower portion of his face to obscure his fangs when he spoke, lest he be accused of breaking The Masquerade. Sure, he was probably as Independent as they came, but it's always a good idea to play nice with the Camarilla, and The Masquerade in general was put in place for a reason. Black Cat respected that. - He does remove his hat when he enters, out of habit more than anything. He carries it with him by the crown, at his side, with the inner lining towards him. That there is juss standard hat etiquette, and despite his rather modern ways, some traditions persist.

Travis meanders 'round the museum, feigning only a passing interest at any of the exhibits. He was new in town, and anyone who might know him from his past would recognize him instantly from his cat-like eyes; one of the more prominent of his animalistic features. The fangs, not a result of his lineage, but cat-like in their own way. His eyes might be peculiar to some, but it didn't mark him as Vampire quite as obviously as the hole pokers in his mouth. Sure, he could have done the quiet loner thing and just not opened his mouth, or positioned himself with his back to onlookers and/or cameras and used his hat to obscure his mouth when he talked... but that was a whole mess of work, and he could do the bandana thing and be done with it. In modern nights, people were covering their face in public for one reason or another, so at least he looked like less of a bank robber in 21st Century than he in did in the 19th Century, when he was a bank robber.

---

M'Kayleigh was always friendly with the help. It started with Daddy's bodyguards, then her Sire's ghouls, and now the Twins and Sebastian. She didn't have ghouls of her own, it seemed like too much responsibility. It was Kinda like having a pet that she had to give blood. She wasn't wasting her blood on ghouls, not when her prey exclusion is rather specific. "Oh Em Gee. Thanks 'Bash, you're the real hero." she bounces along in her seat to the music as they drive towards the beach. She was enjoying the ride, it was fast and luxurious, unlike her BRZ that was custom built only for speed and exterior cosmetics.

She hops out of the Bentley, her dainty little sandals sparkling like the rest of her. "Excuse me queens. Allow me to be a bougie bish RQ. I would rather ruin these heaux than walk around with my feet out. Periodt." No. She was NOT walking barefoot through a parking lot. - "I'm witcha sistas" She calls ahead, stomping through the parking lot and onto the beach, her flat bottom sandals at least providing a surface for her to walk on. She wasn't wearing heels, part of her allure is being petite, so why mess with it?

She listens to Stacy explain the situation in further detail now that they were all away from any possible eavesdroppers, including the three ghouls. They might have a peculiar Coterie, especially in regards to communication, but they did have each other's backs, and trust went a long way with MK. She was new to her unlife, and finding two other Kindred that weren't always trying to get something from her or use her as a pawn... that was worth the extra work it sometimes took to understand each other, and the space they all provided to allow each of them to be themselves.

"Ok Pause. This guy like a pirate or something? Jack Sparrow or like Malaysian pirates, like... modern pirates?" She heard Daddy talk about pirates near Singapore handing out L's to his shipping vessels coming through the Straight of Malacca. "I umm... I like strength in numbers." She agrees with Clara, and just the thought of this mystery guy finding them made her a little uneasy.

---

M'Kayliegh was new blood, and old money. She was only a few years out of her embrace, and things like Lexicon outside of Common Parlance was something she was still learning. The communication gap between Clara and herself only sometimes bridged by Stacy, as she was much younger than Clara and still understood some of Mk's slang. The way Clara reacted to her slang was the same way MK often reacted to Clara's Old Form and her cowgirl slang. She gave hugs and kisses around,  then slid into her seat to check in with her girls.

She noticed the serious tone of the conversation as she approached, but tries to brush it off with her greeting. Its obvious the conversation wasn't sidelined by her arrival, instead she realizes its important. - She frowns a little at Stacy when she mentions she had a vision. It did explain the seriousness, and the often fleeting lucidity Stacy now possesses. She listens to her as Stacy explains the vision. She huffs a little, her little chest heaving with an apparent breath as she settles into her chair to lock in. "OK. Stacy what's the move? We gonna try and finesse this box from the man or whatever. Like, is this guy main character energy? I need more tea"

She looks to Clara, stifling a chuckle when she realizes The Toreador said 'tarnation'. Sometimes she wishes she had a GenZ to Wild West option on her translator app. She nodded in agreement with Clara's question though. That was the real thing on her mind as well. "Yeah Stacy, is this guy a threat, should we be shook or nah?" she asks, looking back to Stacy, then to Clara again, almost hesitant at the upcoming answer. "I don't throw hands like that, bestie... I'm not Red Dead Redemption like Annie Oakley here, but I will go full mean girl if I have to." She nods at Clara, reassuringly. They had multiple tools at their disposal beyond mere brute force, but between the three of them they had that too, if they needed it.