Most men would have been thrilled to be in the company of two young women, though most men often acted like barbarians in the face of the opposite sex. As something both male and not, Remington Moore only felt the slightest tinge of irritation by Nora’s unexpected presence even if it didn’t show on his face. When he had shown up there it hadn’t been because he wanted to take personal calls. And despite the business savvy smile that glazed over steel-glinting eyes, the fact that Nora was there made this all the more personal. Now that he was situated again on his own bar stool, he fixed his jacket and tugged the sleeves down – more of a tic than a need to straighten anything.<br/><br/>For the time being, Remy turned his attention down to the drink that had been placed in front of him. The contents would never phase him; nothing that ailed human kind, altered their awareness, damaged their frail bodies – none of it effected him, but he still lifted the glass to his lips as if he could enjoy the smooth texture rolling down his throat. Once, he had a spell cast on him so that he could feel as a mortal man would, but other than its lingering remnants, he felt nothing of the joy that the inhabitants of the bar felt when indulging in their spirits. Taste was even a benign thing; food simply a frivolity. For something like him, who thrived only on what was given to him, he required none of the sustenance that the flesh required in order to be motivated to continue life. His Queen was the only entity charged with keeping his self intact, his body moving, his conscience alive and aware. It was a strange existence he led, indeed.<br/><br/>It wasn’t until Nora had finished explaining just why he was there that he lifted his attention back up to the two women, polishing off the scotch as he did. The smiley he wore now was droll, with a twist of irony caught up in the sharp lines of his face. He lifted his empty glass to Nora, but focused his attention solely on the young blonde between them.<br/><br/>“What our dearest Nora says is, in a way, a version of the truth as to why I am here. I ask for a conversation only and nothing so candid as recruiting you to become a member of the Syndicate. As Nora should also know, to become a member is a choice; the Syndicate has many allies that they utilize for private endeavors. Our mutual friend is quite familiar with this, as she was one such freelancing party for our cause. A difference of opinion caused her to go her own separate way, true, but that does not mean she would not be welcome back into our good graces. Nor does that mean she is thought of in an ill way...” He might have been looking at Lane, but the words were meant for the other woman. His gaze flickered up to her over Lane’s shoulder after the words fell, then immediately back to the other.<br/><br/>“What do you know of James Sinclair, Ms. Barnes? Regardless of any personal affiliation you have with him – and I will not be so brash as to assume anything – what do you know of his abilities? Magical or otherwise.”