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Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
Alongside one of the walking paths of the park, beneath a cluster of street lamps near one of the public restroom buildings that dot the park's Kelly Drive abutment, Visigny can be found with a violin under his chin and the case open at his feet. He's dressed unassumingly in a bit of a threadbare topcoat, jacket, pants, and shirt. He looks the part of a down on his luck violinist, in truth. It helps that he's killing a G Minor violin sonata by one J S Bach. The odd bill and coin drops into the case as passersby mill one way or the other. He gives them all smiles of gratitude. Pocket change has all sorts of uses to vampires with Auspex. Easy to crowd watch, too, when you are sometimes the reason a crowd is forming. But it is, after all, night. In January. And so 'crowd' is relative. Four or five bodies at a go, and then often milling waiting for a bus.
Micah Bradley:
Tonight, our dear Fae-Touched had decided to visit a different park in the city. Perhaps he would happen across more parkour runners that he could befriend. Thinking about Jane brought a slight smirk to his face as he casually meandered about. That smirk was instantly wiped off the moment a violin melody reached his ears. He raised a thick eyebrow and wondered if Ed was back. Deciding to investigate (afterall, Aurelio confirmed that Ed was not Gentry), he walked towards the source of the sonata being played, purpose and determination in his step.
Upon reaching the player, he paused in surprise. Nope, different guy. But wow, he looked like he needed a good meal and a trip to the clothing store! With a gentle smile, he came forward to drop a 20 dollar note into the case before stepping back to continue listening.
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
When such a generous tip finds the case, Visigny switches up the bow work to something a little more cheerful than a G Minor sonata. He begins the prelude to Partita #3 for Solo Violin in E Major. It's not quite something one can dance to, but it certainly has more pep than the prior piece. Visigny himself bows and bends a bit as the prelude begins its proper sinuous trip up and down the fingerboard. The vibratto waggle of his fingers has a precise measure to it. This player has played, and has been playing. For a good long while. When he draws the final strains of the prelude through to its false ending and then to its rising and glorious shrill conclusion, Visigny tosses up a hand, and then offers a slight Viennese bow of all things to the indifferent applause of his public.
"Thank you, sir," Visigny offers to Micah with a tip of his flat cap. His accent is from everywhere.
Micah Bradley:
Micah's face lights up in pleasant surprise as the sonata was switched for more peppy one and he begin to bob his head along with the rhythm and even swaying his body. He was enjoying the song far more than the rest of the audience and it showed. When it ended, Micah was the loudest clapper as he did so with enthusiasm for the violinist.
"You are very welcome, friend!" he told him with a wide grin and his thick British accent. "Talent like that should not be lightly regarded!"
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
"And yet it is," Visigny laments airily. "Even when it was appreciated in the public, it was always--" Visigny falls into an easy reel, playing his viiolin arm-fiddle style againstthe crook of his elbow and bowing across his body, stooping forward at the waist to manage it all. It makes it easier to stomp the time, which may be why the did it this way. Who knows. He stomps his heels and two steps forward and back from Micah before squeaking the strings to silence again. "Ours is a barbarian age, I am afraid. You must have a real job, however." He nods down to the bill in his case. The big one, he means.
Micah Bradley:
"Unfortunately not." he sighed in response. "Not much interest in the past for many people, I am afraid. But I am well enough and you look like you could use a meal or two!"
Micah nodded appreciatively as the violinist made what was obviously a difficult move for the unpracticed.
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
There's a mercurial gleam in the musician's eyes at that, followed by an agreeable nod of the head, "Why, yes I do. I do believe that's the case." He looks down into his case and then stoops to begin collecting and carefully smoothing out the bills and plucking up the large coins. The coins go into his right coat pocket and the bills into his equally dusty old wallet. He puts the violin away, clicks the case closed, and rises to his feet.
"Would it be too forward of me to inquite if you'd be interested in joining me for one of those meals...?" He trails off, fishing for a name, clearly.
Micah Bradley:
"Oh, I am called Micah. Well, I have already eaten, but if you wish, I would be honored to join you." he said, smiling cheerfully.
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
"Honored?" Visigny doesn't disagree, he just seems a little surprised. "I am Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope. That's two words made of two words each with two hyphens between them, if you're curious." There's a wide, vulpine smile for a moment.
Visigny collects his cane from where it rests against the lamp post and settles in to walk alongside Micah, violin case in one hand, cane in the other. The gentle click of the steel cap on the asphalt of the path is actually a little meditative after a few steps.
"Well, if you've already eaten, perhaps you'll be wiling to honored in some other fashion. I owe your kindness some reward, surely. Otherwise you're going to place me in the very awkward position of simply saying thank you and walking away from you. Which seems an awful shame, now we have all this rapport."
Micah Bradley:
The man simply shrugged casually as he fell in step with Visigny. He didn't react at all to the use of the cane. "Your company and conversation is reward enough, I assure you. I enjoy meeting people and hearing their stories. Tell me, when did you begin to take an interest in playing the violin?" he asked with easy curiosity that spoke of genuine interest and not just small talk.
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
"I started playing fiddle in my village. It came in handy during my military years. I didn't pursue the art of it, really, until I returned from service. Music has always been a part of life, though, has it not? Can you think of a time in your life without music? If you can, it won't have much joy in it, I don't imagine." Visigny clicks his way along the path, sniffing at the night air thoughtfully. "And you, conversely, understand that twenty dollars is an almost comically large tip for a busker? I'm unclear if I should be moved to proposition you for sex or attempt to steal your wallet. The thought of combining the two had also crossed my mind, but only for sake of the punchline."
Micah Bradley:
"Is it really? I am new to America and I might be a touch confused on the tipping culture here still." he laughed goodheartedly. Then he winked at his companion. "You do not have to offer sex. And stealing my wallet would be poor manners from you, of which I am certain you are much more well-behaved!"
"Music is indeed a joy of life. I often find it relaxing, though perhaps because I only really listen while at home." noted the man with a thoughtful expression.
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
"Oh yes. By a factor of about four, generally. That is in fact why we are talking. When handsome men throw large bills at me, I tend to start making conversation. You'll forgive my more venal instincts, I hope. I am easily persuaded by money, shiny things, overweaning flattery, and so on. You ticked a few of the boxes, and now you're walking away into the shadows with a man you've just met. I would say you are not yet fully Americanized, then. You are, at least, heavily armed? I hope?" Step step click step step click.
Micah Bradley:
He shot a curious look at Visigny, contemplating his questions. Was America really all that dangerous? "I do not have a permit to carry, thus I do not. But I have my own ways to keep safe. I am surprised that you worry for me, a stranger." he mused.
Though the conversation had taken a more serious turn, Micah was still walking in a relaxed manner, as though he really had no concerns about safety. Or about his odd companion.
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
"Ghastly things, firearms," Visigny opines on the matter of a permit to carry. "I prefer more subtle means of self-defense, as you say." The then adds as an afterthought, "And knives. Lots and lots of knives." Once they're a fair distance away from the relative bustle of the light posts, Visigny asides to his companion, "I could not be. Worried for you, a stranger. Perhaps I shouldn't be. Only that flashing that sort of money about tends to attract eyes, you see. And someone who casually puts twenties into busker buckets has more where that came from. Goes the logic."
"So it may be that my standing here, in the darkness, with you? A conspicuously tipping, seemingly unarmed man of foreign extraction? Just may be some sort of bait. And I'm employing you to fish out ne'er do wells. For what reason you know not." He waggles his fingers at Micah and even adds a little 'oooOOooo' sound. "Wouldn't that be an amusing story." He keeps smiling, though. And the shadows are quite deep out here this time of night. "I myself am far too polite a fellow to just stand by and let it happen, of course. I'd have to involve myself." He taps a finger against his cane head, just waiting. Any time now opportunitstic naughty people.
Micah Bradley:
"Knife work takes a certain amount of skill, both to wield without hurting yourself and to carry them without hurting your clothing." he hummed appreciatively. The glance he gave Visigny in the dark might have been a wary and suspicious seeming kind of squint, but Micah was far more curious than anything else. He looked down at the cane, finger movement attracting the corner of his eyes, then he looked back up.
"So it is safe for me to guess that the cane is more than just a mobility aid? Smart. And what if that bill was the only one I carried on my person? What if I had decided that it was kinder to help feed someone in need with all that I had on me, than to buy myself something worthless?"
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
"Then your would-be robbers would have been disappointed," Visigny suggests with an easy smile. "I don't make the rules of city life, sir, I simply live by them so that I don't die for spite of them. In any event, I mean you no particular harm. And to be specific, I mean you no general harm, either. But I like to leave my options open. In the event accidental harm were to occur." He lifts his cane and gives its head a twist, drawing a few inches of steel out to demonstrate. Then he slides it closed again and twists it tightly shut.
"You seem a little nervous that I'm pointing all of this out to you. Would you like me to walk you back to the light and then leave you be? My intention here isn't to alarm or upset. You seem a geniinely decent person, so imagine my surprise. That you're. You know. Continuing to be one over time. It's quite impressive for this city, I don't mind telling you." He glances at his watch. These hoodlums are taking forever.
Micah Bradley:
He whistled in a low tone appreciatively at the flash of light reflected off of the steel within his cane. "Very cool cane, good sir. As for being nervous, I am not. I am simply curious about you. Which is why I am still standing here. A little bit of darkness does not bother me." he chuckled then. Indeed, Micah was still standing relaxed, though he does occasionally look around in a very casual manner as if sight seeing and enjoying the nature when in reality, he was keeping an eye out for an ambush.
Visigny would most definitely be able to tell that Micah's heartbeat and breathing was on alert, and yet, steadily strong.
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
When the shaows remain simply shadows and nothing does in fact leap out in an effort to scamper off with the flashed about cash, Visigny sighs just a touch. Ah, well. Maybe another time. An so he starts off again, ambling at a leisurely pace along the park's path.
"Well, it seems some curiosities are to be forestalled for the evening. Lucky you! No attempted muggings. Aren't we fortunate." He points his cane forward, "I intend to continue in that direction. Might stop home for a change of clothes, in fact. I can't promise to be excellent company. Though if I do stop home for a change of clothes, I will likely end up at a club for the remainder of the evening. Which you may find enjoyable, depending on how well you dance and how comfortable you are with men appreciating your attempts at dancing. All of this amounting to a subtle but definite invitation, if you are so inclined."
Micah Bradley:
"I'm usually quite lucky." he grinned. But then his grin turns into a curious raised eyebrow again. "A club? I hope you aren't intending to drink your pocket change away?"
It was tempting... But he glanced back to the park hesitantly. He really should be working out... If only to keep on his toes for emergencies...
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
"Of course not, of course not," Visigny answers with his back still turned, "strictly bottle service." He laughs at that, and it's a warm sound. Sensing the man's indecision, he does the polite thing and reaches into his pocket for one of his calling cards. It does require him to turn around to offer it, so he does that much, at least. Micah will have to come and get it, of course.
"Perhaps another evening."
Micah Bradley:
He strode forward to accept the card, smiling at the joke. "Perhaps another evening." he agreed. "Well met and take care, Mr. Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope."
And that was spoken exactly as Visigny himself had when he introduced his name. Right down to the proper pronunciations, despite the British accent.
Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope:
Visigny touches his cap with a slight incline of the head, turns about, and resumes his casual saunter off into the night. Step step click step step click.
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