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Bernards life was a very careful balancing act. At all times he had to play multiple roles. It didn't bother the older vampire. In fact, he preferred it that way. He was the kind of man who would go stir crazy if he sat still for too long. And he took a certain measure of pride in how he managed his affairs. At any given time, he was the defacto patriarch of the Calloway family (not that that was much to brag about - all of the other Calloways were feckless, inbred trailer trash), the lead information dealer and enforcer of Blood Nation, a well-respected private investigator, part-time volunteer firefighter, devoted father and... ahem, benefactor, for his 'boys.' ...Christ, he needed a secretary. In any case, Bernard managed all of these facets of himself on a day to day basis with relatively little issue. The trick to his miraculous balancing act, as the vampire would tell it, was all about having the right tools. His family, for example. Useless on their own. Disorganized, usually drunk, prone to simply sitting around and complaining about the things they couldn't have rather than getting up and doing something about it. But, when given the right combination of crop and carrot, even they could be made useful. They were a tool to be utilized, they only needed someone who knew how to wield them properly. His father, his useless aunts and uncles, they had accomplished nothing in spite of their longevity. Only Bernard had risen above their base inclinations, above the petty way they themselves had tried to raise him, and shape them into something worth keeping around. Something valuable, both to himself and to Blood Nation. And when he managed their time properly, they didn't even resent him for it. By this point in Bernards life, most of the Calloways even respected him. Admired him, even. It had been a bit of a test when his own brother Knox had come up as an addict, getting high on his own supply. But any reservations had been washed away when Bernard himself ripped the fangs out of the younger mans skull and seen him sold off. No one doubted him after that. No one dared question his tactics, his ethics. And if they did, Bernard could make himself big enough, scary enough, to ward off most. Failing that, he could scare someone else enough that he could usually find whatever dirt he needed on them to keep them compliant and quiet. Barring that, he supposed, he did have some of his cousins who were surly enough and blindly trusting enough to carry out an execution on his orders. But that had never been necessary yet.

The Calloways were the tools Bernard utilized most often, but they were hardly the only tools at his disposal. All of his actions throughout the city were part of an intricate chess game with multiple other players. The pieces he could capture could either be utilized, turned into tools to snare the next capture, of they could be turned into chips. Cashed in for money, for blood, for fear and intimidation. In Saxon, a lost sheep could be turned into profit in any number of ways if he wasn't useful. Saxon, 'the sword', was a fitting name for the city. The Calloways were his eyes, always trained on every corner of the city where there was any point of interest. The Nations own Dealers, to make sure they were in line (and if they weren't, to make sure they were put on Bernards personal payroll, or else turned over to the Nation heads to assure them of his own loyalty), the tracks and traps of competitive alchemists, any wannabe chop shops unsanctioned by Blood Nation, and very frequently... rival dealers. Joey wasn't much of a threat, himself. The shapeshifter was unremarkable, except that he was charming, and persuasive. He'd gotten to be fairly popular in recent months, and so Bernard had his cousins keeping a more regular eye on him. His eyes told him that Joey was rapidly growing accustomed to getting what he wanted, and not only from junkies. 'Too big for his britches' was the term his cousins used most often with him. He was inching out his terrotiry more and more, not yet knocking on the Nations doorstep, but close enough that Bernard was looking for a way to remind him of his place. Nothing so extreme as to get police involved, but every man had his secrets, and someone as... well. Men like Joey tended to have vices that gripped them, particularly when they got the look that they often found the shapeshifter wearing. Joey thought he was untouchable. So, naturally, Bernard wanted to touch. So his eyes watched, and patiently, Bernard waited.

Joey wasn't a high priority concern. He was a side-project, at best. A pawn dancing around his own pawns, not particularly important or relevant. So when the vampire was sitting on the floor playing with his son, he ignored the little message when it buzzed across his smartwatch. It was from his cousin Joseph, a low-ranker of Berns who had most frequently been assigned to keep an eye on Joey as well as a few others in the area. Joseph posed as a client and a casual acquaintance to keep the marks there close. Joey had missed a meeting, apparently. Bernard had brushed it off. Most things could wait when he was seeing to Kit. The older vampire smiled, a meltingly warm expression that was normally reserved just for his son. The little vampire toddler was excitedly pointing to characters in the book he and Katia had gone to get while he was at work that day. Kits hair was wild and red, not quite the bright flame red of most Calloways, but a kind of light, dusty red. Secretly, Bernard hoped it would darken up when he got older. As it was, it was an itching reminder of... well, it didn't matter. Those doe-brown eyes of Kits could melt an ice nymph at a glance. Bernards son was more happy to sit in Bernards lap and explain the intricacies of the plot of his new book (an admittedly riveting tale of a lost rabbit unexpectedly making friends with an owl while lost - truly touching stuff) than most people would be about winning the lottery. Kits enthusiasm was infectious, so much so that Bernard couldn't help but indulge him.
"Oh? But Chubby is scared of the owl, isn't he?"
"Yes, but remember, Old Mister Tortoise told him he had to be brave!" Kit chirped, excited. Bernard tapped himself on the forehread with the heel of his palm.
"Of course! So, did Chubby puff out his chest and try to fight him?" That earned him a charming little laugh as Kit shook his head enough to whip that mop of wild red hair around.
"Noooo!! He put both of his big feet down and-" Bernard missed the next bit of explanation of Chubby Bunnys expliots by his watch buzzing again.... and again... and yet a third time. Bernard sighed, transferring the messages to his phone so that he could check them privately. Not that he suspected his slave, Katia, would try and catch a peek as she went about preparing dinner. But it was a habit. It turned out little Joseph was having a good freak out about something, panicked as he sent Bernard multiple texts. Reading them over, Bernard quickly understood why. Dead. Joey was dead. Well. Honestly, that worked out pretty damn well for Bernard. He could inform the Heads of the void that would be left behind by such a popular dealer as that, and make sure that a Blood Nation dealer was there to fill it. But poor dimwitted Joseph was just too freaked out about finding a corpse. Bernard instructed him to stay put and out of sight, and quickly tapped out a text to two others - older, more stealthy, and more experienced - to keep an eye on the body. Apparently, no one else had stumbled across it yet, but someone would, and what happened next would be telling. Hell, he might have to send the culprit a gift basket for getting that annoying little thorn out of his side.
"Papa? Are you listening?" The vampire put his phone on lock before tucking it back into his pocket, leaning down to kiss the crown of his little boys head affectionately.
"Sorry, Kitten, Papa missed that last part. Tell me again?"

Fortunately, Kit didn't seem to mind.

But Bernard did.


He really didn't ask for much. Just a couple hours to be left in peace so that he could be with his on before going to play with his boys. He deserved that much, didn't he? So he was in a foul mood when he went to see Joseph later that evening, and it was very much in the younger vampires best interest that he and the others had managed to capture something... very interesting. It wasn't often that one was the first upon a fresh murder scene, but it was an especially rare gem to catch the culprit coming back. And with three vampire peering down through the warehouse skylights, he had photos from every angle of the boy coming in to take the phone that had been laying nearby. Bernard studied the photos critically, flipping through the roll on Josephs phone.
"Who is he?"
"Kemuri, he was a business partner, I think. Dunno why he woulda offed 'em... seemed like they got along fine."
"Yes, well many people mistake Cross and I for old friends as well, that doesn't say much. And considering that he hardly looks japanese, I'd like to know his actual name. Austin, get me whatever you can find on him. The basics should be plenty. Name residence. If he's working on the streets he shouldn't be a difficult case.". The taller vampire nodded, immediately biting into his forearm. His blood oozed out, thick and dark, forming into a flurry of bats that quickly disappeared out a window and into the night. Austin reclined on the couch, folding his arms and keeping a hand over the bite as he closed his eyes. Bernard returned his attentions to Joseph. "Tell me what you do know about Kemuri." Joseph nodded.
"Uh, he's a local fence. Lotta the in-between guys use him as a go to. He in, uh, I guess you'd call it uh.... what... you know, he gets stuff?"
"Acquisitions."
"Yes! That! And I think he deals on the side. Got his stuff from Joey."
"Mhm. Do we know whose leash Joey was on?"
"Pretty sure he were Ghost. He was always edgin' round their territory." Bernard nodded again.
"Whether it's the case or not, I think it'll serve my purposes fine. Keep the heat off of him if it comes up, but otherwise just stay back and carry on as normal." Joseph nodded, and seemed relieved when Bernard dismissed him.

It was three days later when Bernard sent 'Kemuri' a simple text.

> > RECIPIENT; 'KEMURI'
[ [ Hey, my friend gave me your number. I think you might be able to help me with something im tryin to get ahold of? would rather say in person. ] ]

He attached a date and a time, in a shady backalley typical of these sort of petty low-end deals, but right alongside Bernards little office building. From there it'd be easy to pull him in for a more intimate conversation. Bernard always carefully considered how to approach games like these. He'd strongly considered sending an attachment, a cropped photo showing just enough of the crime scene that the little fence would understand the implications, but he'd learned a great deal about Lance Ward in the past three days. Hell, the photos alone told him plenty. It was obvious by the kids expression that he was shocked to find the guy dead. Hell, he may not have even been the one who did it (although since his phone was there, Bernard suspected otherwise). But in either case, Lance was young and untried. From the look of things, the little smoke mage had never seen blood spilled before. That was what his expression said. He was too young to be terribly invested or experienced, just a little nobody. But a little nobody who people found useful. Who others would be able to see as an utter no one. Unconnected. Unthreatening. Perfect. Lance would be an excellent tool. He was unassuming, young... no one would think twice about him or who he might be working for, and they'd keep coming to him while he told Bernard who wanted what, and when, and where. But he was a little too young, a little too untried, to lean into with heavy threats right off the bat. Sending the photo was a little too much. Someone like this kid might just bolt rather than risk compliance. A stupid move, but a common one. So instead, Bernard sent the unthreatening text, playing at the part of just another jumpy client who wanted to buy something on the down low. Better to lure him into his web with the promise of a payday.

So Bernard waited, leaning against the brick wall of his little Private Investigators office in the dim light of the backalley. He wore a long trenchcoat, the brim of his hat pulled down low and chin tucked close to his chest. He smoked a cigarette to pass the time, looking every bit the part of some shady slummer ready to make a drug deal. He waited for the confirmation text from Austin as his bats followed his rabbit, Lance, as he moved through the city. The vampires phone buzzed.
[ otw. ]
Bernard grinned.
'Come on, Chubby Bunny. Come be brave in front of the owl. Let's be friends~'

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If Bernard could have known the kids thoughts, he might have laughed at his accurate assessment. Bernard did have a flair for the dramatic, and a penchant for old noir detective movies. But he wasn't ready to show his hand quite yet. Lance was as the photos depicted him - small, unintimidating, and young. He almost seemed too good to be true. Normally kids like this got snapped up on the streets, wound up being traded back and fourth between Crownless and Blood Nation as playthings. But, Bernard liked to give people the benefit of the doubt when it came to their abilities. Maybe the little mage was more clever than he seemed. Bernard did raise an eyebrow when the kid greeted him. 'Good sir?' Was he from a different era, or just trying too hard to sound professional? Either way, chuckling about it wouldn't really suit the part that Bernard was playing at the moment - the anxious, worried would be buyer. He shuffled in place, turned his mouth into a clearly strained smile.
"H-hah, no, I suppose they don't..." The more uncomfortable Bernard seemed, the more at ease Lance was likely to feel. It was a very basic ploy, honestly, one that any regular pool player would notice as the trademarks of a scammer. 'Oh, I only played a game or two with my uncle when I was a kid. you'll go easy on me, right~?' Same old story. But Lance didn't look like he hung out in pool halls or gambling dens. He'd probably make for a good scammer himself, with that unassuming face of his. The vampire pushed the thoughts away for the moment, instead focusing his attention on acting uncomfortable. He tugged the brim of his hat down a little more, as if he was afraid of the fence or someone else recognizing him. He even gave a little furtive glance over one shoulder. "But yeah, nice to meet you too, uh, Kemuri. Is that... chinese? Er, guess it doesn't matter. Sorry, I don't mean to ramble." The vampire shoved his hands into his pockets, fidgeting. He knew plenty that it sounded more japanese, but the more the dullard he looked, for the moment, the better. He cleared his throat. "Name? Uh... well, hope you don't mind but uh... I'd really rather... kinda keep my cards close, you know? I don't like giving my name out. You can call me No Face, though." He grinned, a little sheepish almost, but it exposed his fangs. Just a little. "Sounds kinda cool, right? Hah ha, ah... um. Look,"

He pitched his voice a little lower, glancing around again before speaking in a more hushed tone, every bit the jittery first time buyer. "This is... it's not really something I'm comfortable just talking about all out in the open, you know? This is my bosses building here," He thumbed over his shoulder, indicating the squat, nondescript brick building that he'd been leaning against. Can we take this inside? I'll get you a drink or something from the vending machine and we can talk without every John Doe that passes by eavesdropping on us, yeah?" He glanced down the alley again, as if he suspected that said 'John Doe' would peer maliciously around the corner at any minute. In actuality, of course, it would just make things simpler if the mage complied. Then the vampires hanging out on the rooftops wouldn't have to drop by to make it clear that the offer wasn't a choice. They could discuss things quietly and civilly instead of with an initial scuffle. It would just make everything... smoother. He tugged a keyring out of his pocket, walking a few steps aside to an unmarked door which he fumbled to unlock before pulling it open, waving for the fence to follow him in. The back room was simple - a few scattered storage boxes, some locked file cabinets, and a few chairs stacked off to one corner. He plopped down into one of the unstacked chairs with a sigh, scooting one over for Lance as well.

He sighed, taking off his hat and setting it on one of the nearby boxes, as if it were a relief. Granted, with the light of the lamp in the little backroom, the big scar running down one side of his face was much more obvious than it had been in the shadows of the back alley. But with Kemuri inside, and the door shut behind them, the need to look unintimidating was quickly diminishing. Still, for the moment, Bernard didn't simply descent into menace. He pushed his dark hair back and out of his face, giving the mage another one of those strained smiles.
"Thanks. I feel way more comfortable talking in here than out there. Never know who's watching, you know?" Again, he had to remind himself not to laugh. It was almost a shame that Lance was missing all of his little in-jokes. Well, he wouldn't be in the dark for long. "Anyhow, before we really get into the meat of it, could you take a look at this? I'd like your opinion on it before we get much further." He reached into his jacket, tugging out a small manilla envelope, tied with one of those red winding strings. Inside were a few hard copies of some of the best shots his cousins had taken from the skylights in the warehouse, depicting the mage coming back in to retrieve his phone on the ground. There were even a few good shots that showed his face in full, placing him indisputably with the corpse of the missing dealer. But Bernards expression gave none of that away as he held one hand out, extending it so that Lance could take the envelope from him. "You know what these are?" By all accounts, before the fence looked at the photos, it would probably seem like Bernard was giving him pictures of whatever it was he wanted to buy from him. Maybe a weapon, or a drug, or an enchanted fruit, who knew? Austin was already outside, and Jason would be shadowing the door. If Lance was the foolhardy type, he might try and bolt when he saw the pictures. But, again, the vampire was holding out for the kid being smarter than he looked.

[ooc ; i hope it was okay to go on and drag Lance inside! i can edit if ya want! ]
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