<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>Norman Black</strong></span>, Nosferatu<br/>Tagged: Joanna<br/><br/>Norman efficiently exchanged business cards with Joanna, the time-honored dance of Washington society. He was careful to avoid touching her with his oversized nails. Claws. He did not need a mirror to see the wretched thing he had become, and once again silently cursed his absent Sire.<br/><br/>"It's well-tilled soil," Norman admitted. "We're hardly the first to consider putting sex online. I think the third or fourth researcher at ARPANET crossed that bridge, and in only a few short years they even started throwing women into the mix. So if you want to stand out now you need to target the fringe. Now you happen to have some special advantages available to you, though I suspect that our noble guardians of the Masquerade might express some concerns about overt displays of our heritage. At the least, though, you shouldn't have any trouble rounding up some performers who don't get too squeamish at the sight of blood. And I can imagine that you can be quite persuasive when you put your mind to it."<br/><br/>"Masks. Hmmm." He unconsciously ran his finger along his hideously extended jawline. "That might work, though I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble solely on my account. Perhaps to begin with you could simply find me a location from which to watch. I've grown quite fond of watching, over the years. My kind seem to have a talent for it."<br/><br/>"Tell me, have you had any first hand experience with the Sabbat that the Prince mentioned? I hope you won't consider me rude for asking. I myself have seen their footprints, their trails and leavings, but have never seen on in the flesh. I'm wondering whether they are truly the bogeymen they have been made out to be."<br/><br/><br/>