Konstantin was rather impressed, for while he considered the Bishop to be simply another one of those infirm wretches that had no right to lead he could not help but be pleased with such a formal invitation. He had a weakness for those little rituals of courtly etiquette, though he considered it to be a refinement that marked him as more than a mere ape, unlike some of the Cainites. It did mean that he was forced to forego an evening that he had set aside to peruse a rather interesting new monograph on the advantages of modern technology in the authentication of certain early Noddist works and playing with his newest toy, but both the reading and the girl would have to wait, it would have been more than dangerous to ignore such an invitation, it would have been rude. The fear of the sun and the stake were hardly to compare to the thoughts of social disgrace.<br/><br/>He took his time choosing a face, deft fingers moulding and mingling his features until he was satisfied, having decided upon a face that was handsome, with a touch of angelic innocence. He was not beyond the predilection for wearing a monstrous face when the mood suited, but he found that such ostentatious displays of inhumanity seemed to betray an insecurity that was all too human. He was not a fool, however, and beneath his skin there were more than a few subtle alterations to help keep him alive in such dangerous nights.<br/><br/>He chose an outfit from his rather expansive wardrobe, settling upon a suit a rather nice earth tone that he thought to complement his slightly bronzed complexion and thick brown curls rather well. He had to lay it out himself, making a note to see to replacing his valet. His rosary, the beads and Sabbat ankh painstakingly shaped from his own bone, were slipped over his neck before the white shirt, and then it was on with the suit, satisfied that his new shape was an ideal fit for the garments. It left for nothing but the sapphire set in golden filigree to fasten the shirt at the throat, and then he slipped on the long frock coat, and it was off to the door. He pulled on the soft leather gloves and picked up his cane while standing in the hallway, casting a parting glance over his shoulder before he departed his lair, trusting in his pets to mind the townhouse in his absence.<br/><br/>The journey across the city was not so brief as he might have wished, but he was careful not to let it trouble him, even if he did sometimes hate being among the cattle. He knew better than to pay too much attention to his moods, and placed his uneasiness down to the vagueness of the invitation, or summons, and his own ponderances as to what it might mean. When he approached the small gathering of those who had arrived earlier than him, instinct bade him to let his senses grow sharper, letting his mind sort out as much as it could about the others. He might have wondered why the others were so heavily armed, for even his cane was little more than a length of fine rosewood capped with silver, and even the woman who smelled of feline and bat could quite likely have had some wicked implement hidden beneath her coat.