Dreamer drove calmly up the driveway, despite that his mind was raging at the destruction of Maeve's beautiful home.  Seeing Lakran's head on a spike didn't help his mood, either.<br/><br/>He drove the station wagon up and around the circular driveway, coming to a stop right in front of the ruined entrance and cutting the engine, as though he owned the place.  The corpse still on the hood could only reinforce the impression.<br/><br/>Despite his best efforts, he was having trouble keeping his face calm.  Such pointless destruction... blind, brainless plunder... and utter disrespect for someone that had been treating them so well... these humans... they were a disgrace to the term 'sentience.'<br/><br/>He took a breath, trying to find the old training.  He'd been taught to do this... taught to infiltrate...<br/><br/>If Kitten was looking, he would see Dreamer's expression go blank, then shift to smug and cold-eyed.  The anger disappeared from sight, replaced by the look of someone who was -pleased- with what he saw.  He opened the door, stepped out of the car, and made a show of picking up the automatic handgun, flicking on the safety, and shoving it into the small of his back, held there by his leather belt.<br/><br/>He stepped away from the car, smirking around at the pathetic humans lounging around.  He recognized many of them, and certainly many of them, if not all, knew him.  Those he didn't know were even now leaning over as their comrades whispered into their ears... within minutes they would all know about the 'incident.'<br/><br/>He wasn't surprised at some of the humans he saw lying around, but others he thought of as odd members of the rebellion.  Many, he hoped, had only joined out of self-preservation.  He hoped...<br/><br/>He noticed a petite, young curly-haired redhead sitting on the steps amidst the ruins of the porch with another woman and man he didn't recognize.  (Geena,) he thought, and walked toward her.  She was one of several girls that had shown unusual interest in him after the 'incident,' and one of the few he had accepted into his bed.  Geena, as he recalled, had been -really- fascinated with being restrained by that powerful right arm of his...<br/><br/>The smile that came to his lips wasn't entirely forced.  He'd had some pleasant fun with this one... and it had been reciprocal, he was certain of it.<br/><br/>"Geena," he greeted.  "How you doing?"  He looked her over, taking in the meat cleaver she had on her grey-robed lap.  It looked like a vicious weapon, but had no blood on it.  "May I?"<br/><br/>When he pointed at the cigarette she was holding, she hesitantly held it up to him with a guarded look on her face.  He took it, put it to his lips, and took a drag.  It had been a while, but he didn't cough, despite that his throat wanted to.  He had to look like he did this all the time.<br/><br/>"Thanks.  Had better, though," he said, handing it back to her.  "Cheap cigarettes.  Anyhow, where can I find Lanner, beautiful?  I have a message for him."