Kerr was unimpressed (again) that he had to park so far away from the hotel that was the Oligarchy\'s headquarters, but he was pleased to find the enormous desk within manned this time. Not by an inept demon brat, either - a twinge of the memory of pain was quickly stamped down as he strode up to the gentleman watching him attentively. He didn\'t walk too quickly - he had to turn and check that Tag was keeping up with him as he went.
The wolf boy presented such a heartwrenching figure, trailing obediently after him, all cleaned up and looking handsome. He was carrying his new belongings like he was embarking on a holiday overseas, exercising his youthful right to explore the world and own it (as the young already thought they did). He looked around a lot, but there was such an innocent and... trusting look in his eyes whenever he looked at Kerr and said his name or smiled, that the vampire could hardly stand it. He felt like he was dropping him off at some sort of animal home, to be euthanised. Or neutered, at the very least.
Swallowing, he cleared his throat as he came to a stop in front of the guard, hands resting on the counter and fingers tapping agitatedly. "I... need to speak with someone. Halen would be good," he said austerely, recalling the name Shiroan had at last given the night before. He didn\'t think it was appropriate to go into requesting an Oligarch whose exact nature he couldn\'t define, nor blathering out the entire story to a complete stranger standing in a lobby - even if he was no doubt an informed complete stranger. It was probably part of the job requirement, interpreting coded or vague messages, but the vampire was done with appearing anything less than entirely in control in this place.
