Project

This place is just filthy. Filth attracts scum. It's no wonder this place is running into the ground.

In either case, it looks like Jeremy's fucked off with his mad posse. Is it my fault the staff naturally look to me for guidance? Not that I know their names (seriously, they're cattle!), but barman-dude and bouncer-guy have been asking what's going on and far be it for me to let the poor humans try to figure stuff out on their own. Hey, even if Jeremy's away for one night, it's long enough for me to condition these brainless mortals to do what I want.

Now, surely crazy-boy won't mind if I do a little redecorating? I'm thinking velvet couches, private booths, silverware, chandeliers, candlesticks, silk drapes, elevated iron walkways... a stage, for god's sake! Some proper music, some decent entertainment... and a special private room in the back for our kind. Now, that's hospitality. Let those insane fuckers do what they like in the backroom with all those TVs and shit (memo: soundproof it!). The rest of us cultured folk can be magnificent out here, in the proper surroundings... And of course, this place needs some standards. Not just any slob can wander in. Only beautiful, delectable patrons please! After all, a girl needs to feed.

Now, who to invite for the reopening? The Toreadors, of course, because they'll actually appreciate it. guess I have to invite the lame-ass rest of the Camarilla, though I'm betting 90% of them won't come. Oscar won't, but maybe Eliza? She's not quite as much of a prude. And hey, those snake guys are welcome too, they're decent.

And of course my magpie must see it. I'll tell him to surprise me.

Ooh, what fun!