<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>Norman Black</strong></span>, Nosferatu<br/>Tagged: Sebastian Richter<br/><br/>"Mr. ... Richter? I believe?" Norman had grown tired of shaking hands, tired of the self-consciousness that came with putting his deformed claw into a more human grip, and so he merely bowed slightly. It was clear why that had become the custom among the Nosferatu. One more human ritual to be filed away and only brought out on special occasions. Norman inclined his head toward the hulking Ventrue on the far side of the room. "You've met the giant, so time to visit the troll? You'll run through the entire Ring Cycle before you're done tonight. More than enough Valkyries to choose from."<br/><br/>"What do you make of the newcomers? They're letting anyone into the club these days, not that anyone asked for my vote. I hear that a were-rat missed the cut-off by that much." He held his clawed finger and thumb about an inch apart. Norman knew nothing about wererats, or indeed any of the shapeshifters. It seemed a safe enough jest, but you never knew. Maybe the Tremere kept them as pets.<br/><br/>"And Ingrid -- she's of your House, no? Given a special invitation to come over here? I'd keep an eye on her if I were you. Hell, I'll keep an eye on her even being me. Seems the sort to try to rise above her station a bit prematurely, I think. Not like we sensible neonates, keeping to the gutters where we belong." He bowed again and smiled, fangs dripping with self-deprecation.<br/><br/>Though his banter was friendly, Norman's mind was busy pulling together every fact he had ever learned about Sebastian Richter. It wasn't a great deal, but it was enough to easily determine that this was a man capable of becoming quite dangerous. All the more reason to present no visible threat. It was a survival skill Norman had learned very quickly and very painfully ten years ago.<br/><br/>