Notes the Big M. Thinks a little, of San Fransisco; his memory whirring like a satellite trying to find the correct signal. Too much for right now, especially with Armand a) making an offer of aid and b) they. Yeah. That's fine.

Relief in it, too. Armand wasn't so closely observing that he saw every little thing like a creeping Talamasca snitch, wasn't stewing in loneliness just on the sidelines, choosing to stay apart even when shit kicked off. He hadn't even thought about the possibility until now, but—

Maybe they're alright, in a way. Maybe they aren't as fucked up as they could be.

Thank you.

I know. It's not a surprise that something finally happened. You were nearly right on the money with it. Scaling the tower, and all that. I think most vampires are just like most people, and there's an ocean of difference between threatening to do something and actually doing it.

So. No total deluge of attacks, because most of the ones talking shit aren't willing to move past that stage for one reason or another, but there will be more attacks, and maybe a more dangerous, organized effort, if they don't make their own push to discourage things.