She's already drifting off to reel in another invitee. "Don't be left out in the rain, Agad the Imperishable! Social capital is king!"
You hear Qui call out for another interviewee from the side room—it looks like he's not quite done yet. There should be enough time for one last conversation.
Jordan is perched against the back wall like a bird, one leg bent at the knee, foot flat against the wall, arms curled in by her side while her eyes dart about to observe the room, taking in every conversation and clutch of fraternizing Kindred. You imagine there isn't much that gets past her, and knowing her penchant for prophecy, you can't help but wonder what additional layers of secretive alliances and schemes are playing out in the air above the subjects of observation.
"We should go to the party together," she says absently as her gaze settles on Alisha Grey. The Toreador Primogen is laughing at someone's joke, and even from this distance you can tell her humor is entirely disingenuous.
"You mean Alisha's exhibit?"
Jordan nods. "It might be fun. The last time I visited one of her galleries was just fantastic. I'm not much for art. Like, in general. But those paintings were so beautiful that I saw them for weeks every time I closed my eyes. It was almost magical." She pulls her leg off the wall and brushes the creases out of her pants. "What do you think Arundel would have done if he were here? He and Vivian are pretty close—I think he'd be asking these questions personally, not having his Sheriff do it for him." It's a rather pointed comment on Corliss and her lack of direct involvement in Vivian's assault.