So, is this ballroom party also some courtroom? She supposes that Micah did mention "court" earlier when she pressed him. Tallulah shakes her head, not at all understanding vampires. The two involved vampires–"Benjamin" and "Charles"–make their way in front of everyone and stand on either side of the ornate bear inlay on the floor in front of Kofi and the other two seated vampires. Tallulah turns her head slightly as a couple of the vampires near her start whispering about the two vampires seeking a resolution to their issue. She gathers from their quick little quips that this is some long-term ordeal brought up once before. Apparently, the fact that it's being brought up again is so tedious. As one of the two in the center of the room starts to speak, Tallulah returns her attention to the spectacle at hand.

"Thank you for hearing my concern, your Graces. As you well know, I have dutifully maintained the health and virility of the hunting grounds you have granted me over the last decade. During such time in Asheville, I have worked tirelessly to expand the house's holdings and press forward the house's goals as have been outlined to me."

The man continues for a few minutes, droning on about how important he's been to helping the city's tourism and bringing in visitors. Apparently, this is a top priority for vampires, as it makes it easy to hunt and feed on people who are only passing through on vacations or business trips. She finds all the self-aggrandizing chatter dull, so while that continues for those few minutes, she studies the vampires all standing about in the ballroom–many whispering amongst themselves and a few even peering back at her with looks of curiosity.

"…Which brings me to the issue I've decided to request your judgment on tonight. Mister Saint Claire, yet again, allows his entire brood to hunt without permission at many of the bars and lounges in the downtown area of Asheville. No matter the warning, no matter how many times they have been policed by my marshal, no matter the dictate from the house to maintain their numbers, the Saint Claire brood continues to defy all."

Finally, the man comes to an end, silence reigning for a long set of moments. Kofi, the mustached man, and the alabaster-skinned beauty watch the two men standing before them. None of the three move or prompt the other vampire to speak. After those few silent seconds, the only movement from the three seated vampires is that the woman taps one nail a few times on the armrest of her chair. Tallulah looks around, trying to decide if that action is some signal, but she shakes her head a little when no one does anything or moves. Finally, the second of the two men spoke up, drawing Tallulah's attention back to the ordeal in question.

"Your Graces, I appreciate the opportunity to be heard. Mister Stanton is, of course, exaggerating and misrepresenting the situation. As many of you are aware, I was given exclusive rights for two years for myself and those I have made into the 'Saint Claire brood'–as Mister Stanton so called us–to hunt in the district which Mister Stanton is seemingly keen to pretend is off-limits to us. During such time…"

And on and on it goes. Now Tallulah realizes why those vampires beside her called this whole thing between them so tedious. She also remembers that Kofi mentioned his nights as mostly "settling unimportant and uninteresting disputes of land, property or feeding areas," and now she can see why. Here the vampires are, having a get-together with people in bird cages, folks pretending to be furniture and other party favors, and you have these two clowns who can't seem to handle their own business elsewhere.

"We have heard enough."

Those four words uttered by the man sitting in the center chair ended everything–even the whispers about the ballroom. He spoke with a clear and present classical "southern" accent, seemingly not even interested in masking it like some of the other vampires had trained themselves to do.

"This is the second time the two of you have disputed in front of your house in the last six full moons. The first time, we dictated that you would handle it between yourselves. As that has seemingly been too complex for either of you to manage, we will see to it as requested."

The man shifts his head slightly, murmuring to the woman beside him. Kofi also turns his head, seemingly able to hear the murmur being shared between the three. The woman tilts her head ever so slightly, her nails no longer tapping on her chair's armrest. Once that gesture occurred, the man in the center chair continued speaking in his smooth, genteel, and clear Southern voice.

"One of the duties of our territory proprietors is to make sure that our laws and dictates are enforced. Some might say that is their primary directive at night's end."

Tallulah's eyes shift over the different vampires, trying to take in faces and catalog them in her memory for later. She realizes there are too many, though, and there is no way she will remember them all. She does see Christina, though, dressed in a fine floor-length gown of cornflower blue–nothing like the guard outfit and military style of dress she'd seen the vampire in prior. Christina is standing a few good paces away from Kofi's side of the seating arrangement, with a good-looking man bent over and, Tallulah assumes, whispering into her ear.

"With that directive being of the utmost importance to the stability of our house, our judgment is simple. We no longer recognize Benjamin Stanton's claim to the downtown area of Asheville. Our grant of two years of rights to hunt in the downtown center of Asheville is sacrosanct, and none–save those who challenge our word–may halt its fulfillment."

Stanton, clearly being dressed down by the southern-mustached man, maintains his silence while standing still. Saint Claire, Tallulah is surprised to see, does not seemingly gloat. She quickly realizes, though, that this is not a victory for either of them.

"That said, our grant was for Charles Saint Claire and his brood, current to the time of the grant, to be allowed to hunt that territory. Mister Saint Claire, how many have you turned since that grant was made official?"

The man clears his throat before speaking.

"Six, your Graces."

"Six?"

"Yes, your Graces."

"You have turned six additional individuals into draugar in the past year, Mister Saint Claire?"

"Yes, your Graces."

The black-haired, alabaster-skinned woman blurts out a laugh. It is mirthless and sarcastic. She finally speaks shortly thereafter, and her voice is like a quiet murmur of satin, silk, and promises of infinite enjoyment.

"That makes you the most prolific draugar in our territory, exceeding even our numbers. Were you granted permission to expand your reach in such a way, Mister Saint Claire?"

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"No, your Graces."

There is some murmuring around the ballroom; Tallulah looks left and right, trying to pick up snippets of the sudden conversations piping up here and there. From what she can tell, this is a big deal, and she is left to assume the reason: it can be a challenge of authority. The southern gentleman speaks once again, in his mild and relaxed manner, as if he were commenting on the weather of the evening and not adjudicating a matter of someone's well-being.

"You will choose six of your scions and end their existence."

"But, your Graces, this was allowed by your laws! You told us to choose wisely and grow our house!"

The room is silent, and some of the vampires standing closest to the two–in front of the southern man, the alabaster-carved woman, and Kofi–casually and yet quickly move to a different location. The woman tilts her head ever so slightly, and the sweet, silky tone she was using just before hardens into something much more dangerous.

"We are aware of our laws and dictates; we do not require these affectations and wailing about tonight's adjudication. You will see to it tonight."

"I will do no such thing; I have followed the laws of your house dutifully since my arrival–"

The man doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. In the split second that Tallulah has blinked her eyes in surprise at the vampire's dissent, Kofi has moved to be right in front of the man–his hand is already through the center of the man's chest and out of his back, gripping Saint Claire's heart with taloned claws in a ferocious and mind-numbingly fast action. Instead of the gasps that Tallulah expected to hear, there's… laughter. Lots of laughter, which started from one side of the ballroom and spread throughout the rest of the room in short order. Saint Claire has just long enough to look down at the hand and arm through his chest and back up at the steely eyes of Kofi with a look of utter betrayal before his body starts to ash away, leaving nothing but dirty and dusty clothing in front of Kofi not but a few seconds later.

The other man, managing to guard his emotions even with the violence that happened two feet from him and the cacophony of laughter in the ballroom, simply clears his throat before speaking, though he has the slightest nervous tenor.

"Thank you for your judgment, your Graces."

The woman absently waves a hand, dismissing Stanton from in front of the three of them. Kofi gestures at a servant, who immediately walks over to him. After a few moments of wiping off his hand and suit jacket's arm of the viscera and ash from the man previously known as "Saint Claire," Kofi returns to where he was formerly seated. The same servant quickly cleans up the floor of the pile of dusty ash and empty clothing.

The vampires immediately return to their ballroom behavior, as if the entire event was just an intermission between the night's festivities. Though she's shocked and curious about what just happened, Tallulah is also confused about the power dynamic in the room. She'd thought Kofi was the leader of the vampires here, but apparently, he's not. Or is he? But there are two others who are similarly able? It's quite confusing, and instead of minding where she keeps her attention, she winds up staring at the three seated vampires while she tries to figure it out.

Some of the evening's events seem to be getting a little more risque, and though it doesn't make her blush, she does not particularly want to be volunteered "accidentally" to participate. She moves away from a trio of vampires who have unlocked the cage to the naked man painted as a red bird and have gone on to use him as both a dinner meal and an object of sexual gratification. As she moves away from them, she drifts closer to the only other vampire she recognizes in the room, save Kofi. As she draws nearer to Christina, the woman watches her with a very vaguely apprehensive look.

"Hello, Christina."

Christina momentarily flicks her eyes toward Kofi, who is seemingly occupied watching a vampire walk one of the servants on a leash through some of the grassy patches designed in the ballroom's flooring. When Kofi doesn't seem to be paying attention, only then does Christina return Tallulah's greeting.

"Hello, Miss Tallulah. Enjoying yourself?"

"Ah, I'm not sure."

"I'd imagine you're feeling very out of sorts."

"This isn't the first time I've been to a party with some fucked up nonsense going on, but it's the first time I've seen one of your kind die."

Christina pauses slightly before she carefully responds.

"It is harder to maintain control than to grasp it suddenly. Sometimes strength must be shown."

"Yeah, I think it was pretty clearly shown."

"You'd be surprised how things work. Saint Claire's scions won't be happy when they learn of his death."

"Concerned?"

Tallulah looks over at the inlay of the great bear on the floor, where minutes before, she watched that vampire be slain without finishing his sentence. Christina follows her gaze but doesn't respond right away other than with a simple shoulder shrug that suggests she isn't at all concerned.

The man next to her, who she thought was whispering in Christina's ear earlier, tilts his head back down and touches his lips to the side of her neck, just above one of the ornate tattoos that show on her exposed skin. Tallulah purses her lips and casually looks away, momentarily looking at the caged woman painted as a blue bird. When she gazes back, she realizes the man is biting Christina, drinking little droplets of her blood sensually. Tallulah isn't quite sure how to react; it's almost like walking in on someone having relations with another, but at the same time, it's open and… isn't. If Christina registers Tallulah's discomfort, she doesn't show it. The beautiful dark-skinned woman, with her braided hair and flawless face, momentarily closes her eyes–Christina's enjoyment of her partner's actions apparent.

"Ah, you're busy, so I'll, you know, leave you to it."

"Hmm?" Christina groggily opens her eyes a fraction, settling them on Tallulah.

"Enjoy your night, Christina."

"I will; you should, too."

Tallulah slowly backs away from Christina and the handsome yet pallid man who didn't bother introducing himself. She realizes this must be the party period where it starts getting to be "that time" of the night. Again, she'd seen this sort of thing before, but it was a fey ordeal in a city, and this was a little different. As Tallulah is looking for another pillar to hold up, a servant with dried rivulets of blood on the left side of her neck approaches, offering Tallulah a glass of champagne again. This time, she declines, but she snags what looks like a tiny cookie from the woman's serving tray. As the woman domestic moves away, Tallulah nibbles at the treat. It's too good of a pastry: a few bites later, and it's gone. She was thinking about tracking down another when the room goes quiet again, and she looked to see what was drawing attention this time.

She sees it's the rise of the three seated vampires that has caused the interruption in all activities–even the more open displays of fornication. All three of them move behind their chairs and step through one of the three doors held open by a guard. Kofi pauses beside the guard and murmurs something before following the other two vampires. Once the door is closed behind them, the guard weaves through the ballroom, ignoring the return to debauchery that immediately starts up again. He focuses on Tallulah and indeed stops next to her.

"Miss Tallulah, the house would like to invite you to their private parlor."

"Okay, sure, lead the way?" Tallulah replies without much hesitation.

The guard turns and moves ahead of her towards the doors in question without giving Tallulah an expression to read. She follows behind, her emerald gown flowing faintly behind her as she moves. She gains more than a few looks–some of them interested, some simply unreadable, some hungry, and some even lecherous–but nevertheless, she continues after the guard. Tallulah understands now why she was dolled up as she was; the "house" wanted her to be seen so that she could also be seen being called to their side in front of the large gathering. As he opens the first security door just ahead of her, she sees that all three doors open to a marble-lined hallway lined with paintings and busts. She brushes her hand over her own shoulder, momentarily touching her braided silvery gray hair, with its flowers woven in it expertly.