JSR:
Alex slows down a moment. Must not get too excited by the hunt, by the here and the now. He is looking for a long-term investment. He doesn't stop following, just lets her slip him by a pace or two.
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JSR: "Not a problem," Alex says, matching her speed. "Happy to."
JSR: "I understand," Alex says lightly. He's playing the long game. "Another night, maybe. Walk you to your friends?"
He moves to follow her back to the pier.
JSR:
JSR: Alex was alive in the 60s, but he's been dead longer than he was alive, and the mind plays tricks. This woman, however, is in the cultural DNA.
Alex finds himself nodding along. He gestures toward the beach, and asks the question, confident of himself, confident of the answer he has coming. "Beach, ocean, sky. Want some company?"
JSR: Alex moves in to dangle the bait -- himself. He walks over to her, stands close but not too close, "Nice night for a walk on the beach," he says, tossing his hair a bit in the ocean breeze. A tic of habit.
In this environment, as on stage, Alex's slouch is nonexistent. He projects confidence because he is confident.
JSR: Like calls to like, blond to blond.
Alex follows his target down toward the beach where he can hopefully get a better look. He's not entirely heedless of his surroundings, but he has the easy confidence of someone who knows that he isn't likely to be in any physical danger.
JSR: Especially the way that expanding his Herd is on his mind, Alex transitions from hunting for information into Cruising for Potential Herd.
What makes for a good Herd member? Preferably female, not obviously attached to a large group of people. Someone who responds to Alex well at first glance.
Alex walks the pier, taking in the sights, sounds, smells. He's running songs in the back of his mind, all the while looking for something or someone he'll know when he sees.
JSR:
Echo: At some point in the next few days, Alex texts Echo. We got a plan for Sam and Monterey?
JSR: Alex is interested in the disappearance of the elders, but keeping himself apart from a lot of the typical Kindred interaction works against him here. His plan is to spend the next few days hunting around for something he might be able to find ... more instances of the mysterious graffiti mark. If he can find more, maybe there will be a pattern. He can cover a lot of ground on two wheels, and he doesn't expect it to be subtle.
Elliott takes the marked up map book and the card, before digging in his back pocket. Oh, wait, hold up...here. He hands him a jet black card that appears, at first glance to be blank. "Drop me a call, if you all...need more help with your puzzle." "Nice effect on the card," Alex says. He takes a moment to put the number (and Weston's) into his phone. JSR:
JSR:
Alex will show Weston and Elliott what is where on the ... map? ... atlas? ... Guide. "Give me a call if you have any questions and I will ignore you if I'm busy. If you text, you'll get a faster answer." Alex will leave one of his paper business cards with Elliott as well. Alex gathers a bicycle and a guitar case from Echo's vehicle and pedals off into the night. JSR: Alex is going to try and find a meal before he goes to bed.
After settling the contents of Echo's car, Alex walks over to Elliott's, rubbing his hands together. "Okay, let's get that map marked up for you." "I can show you where things are, but I can't give you any driving tips. Unless you have a bike in the back of that."
Elliott grins wide without showing his teeth. "I got a 30 year old Thomas Guide under the passenger seat. Want to mark off the line where Accidents Occur?" Alex nods thoughtfully. "That's a good idea. I can also mark off some of the useful spots to know, like the places we meet up with our counterparts from surrounding domains." "And I suppose any other random locations you want to know or avoid. Just let me slide this into Regent Echo's car." Alex walks over to Echo's car and rearranges a few things to make the box fit. Echo: If she looks at Alex when he says Regent Echo, he winks at her, facing away from the newcomers.
"I am Regent." She repeats the fact from earlier. "Because our Don has gone on an extended journey dealing with," her hands flutter in the air, "elder stuff." "So instead of tasteful Spanish elegance, you get us." Alex grins brightly at Santa Cruz's two newest residents. "We should go over the boundaries of the domain with you two so that no accidents occur." "And probably other paperwork type stuff I'm not really versed in that and it was a while ago when I came here."
"You could get a phone that does this," Alex says to Echo, as they navigate the complexities of Weston's business card, in a tone of voice that suggests this is merely the latest salvo in a long-running disagreement. "Is there a chance this phenomenon's meeting us here?" At this, Alex looks up from his phone sharply and glances around. "uh ... I hope not," he says. And after a beat: "I wouldn't recognize it."
The metal card flips on her knuckles, "Do I only have to bend it to summon you or does it have to completely broken?" She motions to the proto-SUV, "I mean I have a bolt cutter in the back, but that would take extra steps." Alex puts his head down, and tries to contain his silent laughter. When he's composed, he says, "I can show you with my phone" to Echo. And to Winston, "She has a phone, but it's not one with a camera. I consider myself lucky that she has one." Alex puts the QR code in front of his phone's camera to demonstrate to Echo how this works.
"Beautiful." Her attention lingering on the engraving, "His collection pays homage to homeland." When Weston offers the box, she nods, "Alex, if you would?" Alex offers Weston his own business card. It's much less impressive. Alex takes the box with appropriate care. Alex's business card:
Alex's business card is a regular paper business card. It says "Alex Warfare, bass guitar" and has his phone number. Alex nods to Elliott. "Hands full," he says apologetically. "Can't be forced to testify against yourself," Sam--the skinny guy in the Tootsie pop shirt--murmurs to Alex. "Yeah, I thought of that one. And a fifth of vodka and a fifth of Beethoven. I could have sworn Accounting was the fifth Tradition." Alex shrugs, careful not to jostle the blade too much.
"The fifth," Alex says quietly, and starts counting on his fingers. He looks over to Rook, and mouths the word Accounting? with a look of mild confusion on his face. Ohhhhhhhh when Echo mentions their adherence to hospitality. Alex turns back to Weston, and steps forward, offering his hand. "Alex Warfare," he says. "Santa Cruz is a good place to lay down roots."
At the Don's Place: "I do a lot of business in cash with the sort of people who don't trust banks. Or whose employers will steal their tips." Alex offers.
"But I am a young one next to the Don. How would Boone put it? A mere stripling?" Curiosity in Alex's voice to see if he got the Boone-speak right.
Alex shifts from slouching out in the open to leaning against the Land Rover. "What she said."
In the Car: "If either of these people is a Pinkerton or a fan of Imagine Dragons we could have trouble," Alex says, all seriousness. "Probably anything else that might set me off would require getting to know them a little better."
Alex sighs. "Posing. I'll try to remember to stand straight."
In the Car: "From whence do you travel, what purpose to unravel, within our demesnes, why are you being seen?" Alex sings, his voice high and his tone clear.
He snorts. "Too prog for my taste. How about From whence do you travel and what is your purpose here? When in doubt, keep it simple." "I mean ... for Kindred ritual greeting versions of simple. I do like the formal tone of it. Definitely best that you intro the greeting."
In the Car: "Being reasonable might work," Alex says to Echo, the tone in his voice a bit on the doubtful side.
"Is there some official word to use to open the hospitality thing? I may not have been paying attention the last time we attended one of those." To Sam, again: "One of these is why we'll have to talk to the people who are responsible for Monterey. It sounds like you ate from their territory, so you may owe them a boon. A favor. I think maybe that one is Domain?" "Anyway, that's a problem for Future Sam. And Future us, come to think of it."
In the Car: "That's a big one," Alex confirms.
"There's also ... don't make children without permission. Introduce yourself to the head of the place -- the Don in this case. Um ... one of them is The Accounting. What the heck is that?" Alex scratches the side of his head. "I'm not taking the piss, I didn't learn these until I was in the fight club" finger quotes there "For more than a decade." Alex turns to Echo. "When we get there, do you want to do more of the talking or do you want me to do more of the talking? You're senior on the scene, but I suppose you can delegate to me if you want." Back to Sam: "I think Accounting means if you do make kids, you need to be responsible for their mistakes."
Alex is wan, blond, and has a rockstar slouch. He is flat-out beautiful despite his ragged black jeans and plain gray T-shirt. Or perhaps because of them. Either way, he is quickly out of the car. He looks up at the museum, and shakes his head. "Rant later."
"Traditions? Like leaving a seat empty for the prophet Elijah?" Sam asks. Not even a beat from Alex. "Yes," he says. "Except there are five ... six? ... of them." Alex shrugs. "I think six. We can talk in the car. Echo will correct me if I'm wrong."
Alex watches Rook diligently investigate, a slight frown on his face. Then he turns to Echo. "Hey boss," the usual touch of sarcasm when Alex refers to Echo as boss, "I know we have more poking a-- investigating to do here, but do we want to be at the Museum before the boorish Kindred and his plus one?" "Also? Swearing Sam into Los Vigilantes is going to piss off Sonny. I approve." Alex flashes a thumbs-up to Echo. And to Sam, "So what do you know about this kyriarchy you've entered into? Like, are you completely ignorant of Traditions? Or are you still in Don't Eat Me Mister Wolf mode?" Alex tilts his head toward Cailleach. "Man, it took me forever to get the hang of this, so just ... you know ... if you have questions, let's hear 'em."
"If so, then... Alex how did the Don determine that you were good to take oath as a protector of the fief?" Alex thinks for a moment. "I don't remember. A lot of the details of that cross-country trip escape me. Probably for the best not to remember whose..." A pause, a shrug. "... turf I crossed." "But it should be something you could do for Don B in his absence, right? As the senior Kindred on the scene." Alex snaps his fingers. "Demesnes! That was the word."
"Best to confirm with eyes what supposition might render fearsome" -- Alex needs to come to Moses next time he gets stuck on lyrics.
Alex too knows his part in this repeating performance. "Complacency happens without a little bit of hunger. I can lie to myself at other times, but not during music." "Buy me dinner first, sailor," Sam says with a grin, then it falls. "I'm sorry, this is serious. I should be serious." He gives Alex his number without further discussion. Alex immediately texts Sam to ensure the number is correct. "That's my number. Tradition would be tamales, but this is not the right time, and...." Alex trails off at the land line. "I bet they can hear that ring on the beach," he mutters.
An intake of breath and then letting it go, "Yea... they are either in the same shape or would try to jump on the power vacuum. Not certain which is the worse option." "Power vacuum," Alex says without hesitation. "Survival I can do. Reminds me, I should eat at some point tonight." Alex turns to Sam. "Do you have a phone number? I'd like to put you in my phone contacts."
"Okay if it's really just the five of us here, then I changed my mind about calling Monterey," Alex says, then looks at Cailleach. "Six of us. I don't know what Sam can do, but I don't feel comfortable trying to fend off politics with just us six." Alex rubs his temples as he is buffeted by Moses' idiom. "Okay. Um. So the next step?" "What is the next step?" Is Alex talking to himself? Moses? Echo? The others? It's not clear.
"You do have that connection with Don B," Alex says. "Was there anything strange about this time? Or anything he was considering that might be relevant?" Alex frowns. "I feel like I'm trying to play a riff with gloves on, but maybe start with when did this feeling happen? When did you see Don B before that? Was there anything else out of the ordinary?" Alex shrugs and looks at the others. "Whatever that means to aristocracy."
"Sounds like we're going to be allies, Sam," Alex says. "I'm Alex Warfare."
Alex nods at Moses. "Show us what you can and tell us what you know," he says.
"I'm still waiting for the explain what's going on part," Alex says, using finger quotes. "I got the soundtrack for apocalypse if that's what we're facing, but right now the only thing I know is that someone told Echo something without speaking to her." Alex looks at Sam. "And obviously it's not one hundred percent bullsh*t because you found Sam." "Do you think Lady Salton and co have vanished too? Or are we the only lucky ones?" Alex looks back to Echo, and waits for her to return to the present.
Sam turns around in his seat. "Culturally driven, yeah, but you have to remember, producers have inordinate power. Now, that backwards talking stuff was nonsense, but a producer who wanted to encode a message with keys and so on? Could happen. Easily." Alex nods. "For sure, this is why "The workers control the means of production" isn't just a metaphor. Studio toys can do so much to undercut ... or underline ... the intent of the performer." He thinks for a minute. "So you think it's more cultural like ... building on what's been done before like how the whole f*cking 1980s was Stock Aitken Waterman? And not just you know Bach liked resolving his chords, and church music was everywhere cultural?"
Alex nods along to the route. "On a bike, I can cut through that park over there. But you more than make up the time by driving faster." And as the tense driving continues, "How much do you think response to music is culturally driven? Like, major and minor keys, dissonance and stuff."
"Where is over there?" Rook asks Alex. "Oh, right. Where you met the Prince the first time," Alex says. "I can give directions but I bike there so might not be the best." Alex holds the phone to his ear. "I'm glad personal hold music never caught on."
Alex gives Summer's people a call. Starting with Summer, if he has that number. "I could use some catch-up," Alex says. "I would rather slit my wrists than have someone from San Francisco come down and try to turn us into them."
"Aw crap, we'll be right over," Alex says, and hangs up the phone. "My guess is Echo was going to ask a favor," Alex says to Rook, "but it doesn't matter now." Alex points at Sam. "You are either very lucky or very unlucky." Then turns to Echo and Rook. "We gotta get over there. Don B is missing. We should bring the new kid."
Alex puts in the call to the landline. Alex mouths the words Camarilla sh*t to Echo and rolls his eyes. "Hey, this is Alex. We have an outlander who should be introduced to the Don. Is he free tonight or should we try another time?"
"We could just call," Alex suggests to Echo. "Take care of everything over the phone." After a moment's thought he adds, not unkindly, "I can text first, if you like."
Alex wanders through the museum, keeping Sam between himself and Echo. "Visual arts are fine, but they're not my thing," he says to Sam as he watches the other patrons, and not really the art.
Alex throws an "after you" gesture to Sam, and brings up the rear. "We're a chattier bunch under better circumstances," Alex says. "Well I am, anyway."
Alex slides out of the backseat of Echo's car and adopts his usual slouching posture.
Echo/JSR: Alex is quietly humming in the back seat, his hands doing some form of air guitar. "Where we going again?" More air guitar. Alex does not comment on Echo's route.
Echo: "Huh," Alex says, looking out the window. Then he slowly turns and looks more carefully at Sam. "Huh," he says again.
Alex leans back and buckles up. "Guess I'll hear what Sam has to say." |