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Most of the work that Luigi had for the night had been completed, so as one day turned into another, the Ventrue was on the stage of his theater, sword in hand. It was a classic Italian fencing saber, almost completely silver in appearance, and obviously well kept. Luigi was dressed in an older style fencing outfit all in black- calf length breeches tucked into stockings, and a tailored fitted fencing jacket with a high collar, complete with soft leather shoes and gloves. At the moment, he was a blur of motion, fighting off an opponent who was not there. After a few beats, he would slide step back, pause and salute, then begin again with a new combination. A perfectly normal thing to see on a theater stage.
Mearc enters the theater quietly, and spends a moment watching Luigi in silence before he clears his throat. He's not wearing that heavy black duster tonight, only a black t-shirt (obviously one borrowed from Jack, as it has the IATSE logo on it) and a pair of green cargo pants, his usual messenger bag slung over a shoulder.
The saber whipped through the air, neck high, as Luigi extended in a swiping lunge to catch someone's carotid. He paused, turning his very serious eyes towards the source of the throat clearing. Another beat, and Luigi's smile blossomed, as the vampire rose from his stance.
"Ah! Signore Maercstapa, forgive! I did not hear you enter," Luigi offered, tucking the sword blade under his arm as he rested his hands on the hilt. He gave the changeling a once over before tilting his head. "Affari o piacere?"
"I'm already working on Russian and Hebrew. Will I need to study Italian to understand you?" Mearc smiles as he says that, slowly walking toward the stage, clearly trying to stay well away from even a leaping lunge with the sword. "Good evening, Sir Fabri."
Seeing the slow approach, the Host walked over to where the sheath was resting against a chair and put the sword away. He left the weapon across the armrests, and after giving it one last glance, sat himself on the stage's edge. "It was a question, means Business or pleasure? How are you doing, Signore Mearcstapa? I, myself, and doing wonderfully. This city is effectively a retirement home for me...in luxury. I have not felt this relaxed since I was human and spent a day in a bathhouse in Rome."
"I've never been to a bathhouse, but I think a spa's a modern equivalent? We had a spa day in Hawaii when we went on vacation, myself and Jack and our other partner, Lux. I can't recall ever having been that relaxed in my life. I tend to be wound like a spring, not sure if you've noticed."
Luigi chuckled. "No. Not all. Completely escaped my attention," he said with a small bit of sarcasm. "Come, try and relax some, have a seat." He gestured to one of the plush front row chairs. "The bathhouses are ancient, but the one I went to had been updated with modern, well...at the time, amenities. And....ahem...very friendly and capable personnel. " There was a bit of a gleam in Luigi's eyes, but he cleared his throat and continued. "Is your life so treacherous that you remain so vigilant that it cracks you?"
There's a pause before a very visible lightbulb moment and Mearcstapa grins. "Ah, that kind of bathhouse. That almost makes me want to ask questions about vampires and sex, but that would probably be rude, especially for so new a friend. Maybe I'll pester Petra about it later."
He takes the offered seat, dropping his bag at his feet--it's clearly rather heavy and full. "As for a treacherous life? Well, yes, especially in recent months. And to some degree, being that paranoid is my job and my role and my duty and my calling."
"An unfortunate calling, but I respect duty. I respect your adherence to it. It is my hope, though, that it is one you can carry for a long time," Luigi offered. He glanced down at the sound the bag made but did not yet comment. Paranoia is a natural state of being for my kind, so we are two very paranoid, how do they say, peas in a pod." Luigi laughs, then settles into a chuckle. "As for sex, you can ask, I will not be offended. But I will tell you now it has been some time since I last felt such durezza." He laughed again, and spread his arms. "This is one of the few remaining things that can move my blood."
"I mean, I know vampires can have sex, but is it...mostly only a means to an end, with seduction being a highly successful method of hunting, or is it enjoyable in itself? Do you need to concern yourself with matters like sexually transmitted infections? Pregnancy?"
Giving Mearc permission to express curiosity opens the floodgates. He leans forward as he asks these questions.
Luigi's eyebrows rose at the questions, and the smile grew. "This can depend on many things. What was the person like as a human? What type of vampire are they? Some of the blood leads to greater ardor. Also, the age of the Kindred in question can mean much. I am not particularly ancient, but such human concerns have already started to drift away. Younger vampires, still fascinated with their new power and senses find it to be incredibly enjoyable." He takes a moment, eyes looking off in the distance. "Those can be some...interesting times. And like anything, it can be enjoyable, if you enjoy it, and also, depending on who your enjoy it with." Luigi shrugged. "As for the rest....well, I must hold some secrets." Again the Ventrue laughed.
"I see. Not so different from humans, just more complicated. After all, age tends to affect the sex drive--at a quicker rate, of course--for them too. And us, though time and weird can make aging different for us."
He gestures mid-air, indicating some sort of interrelation, vaguely.
He leaned forward, hands on the edge of the stage. "So, you do age? Are you immortal?" Luigi asked, assuming a fair trade of questions was in order. "I know so little about...about...what would I call your kind?"
"Changelings if you're being pointed about it, Lost if you're trying to be more polite--think of it as an equivalent to 'Kindred', if that helps. Avoid 'fairies', that's just mean." Mearc laughs warmly. "We do age, but our aging tends to slow over time, as we grow more powerful. It's...you could see one of us last to over two-hundred, but they'd be substantially more fae in nature than I am."
Luigi nodded. "Lost. What an interesting name. I suspect it has to do with your creation?" he shrugs to indicate he was perfectly accepting of that question not being answered. There was a pause, then he laughed. "I think...you will find that we kindred are very much human...but more... " Luigi was trying to steer the conversation back to a point he missed, and was apparently not possessing of the English to do so smoothly. "...more...we are like humans but more concentrated. Like Orange Juice Concentrate."
"Intense, perhaps. It is hard to have hesitancy and be a Kindred, I suppose. Every single one of you is capable of being a predator of one kind or another. I respect that, though." He sits back into the chair comfortably, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee.
"Intense? Maybe that is correct. And yes, we are predators, there is no denying this part of our nature. We require others' life force in order to continue our own. But then, so does everything, in a way. A calorie is just a mundane measure of something's life force," Luigi noted. "When I say concentrated, though, I mean, we are the essence of being human, over distilled, compressed, and made into something that is beyond that. You might say that, well, what about the...nicer parts of being human? Charity, generosity and all that. And my answer is, that is society, a result of a community, of family, of friends. A human on their own, is a special kind of animal." Luigi was still smiling, but there was regret in his eyes. "It is a down view, I know."
"We feed, too. Not on blood, on emotions. So you'll see us stirring up emotions in others. Starting bar fights, dressing provocatively, haunting cemeteries--either to spook those who come at night or to draw out deep sorrow in mourners."
He shakes his head slightly. "Some do it more kindly. Draw the wrath they prefer from protest groups, use art to stir up emotions, go to horror movie nights at the local secondhand bookstore and get their fill of fear that way. It's still a form of feeding."
A perked eyebrow is the initial response. "You incite emotions to ...drink them?" Luigi asked. "Are naturally occurring emotions enough, or do they need to be ...enflamed?"
"They can be enough, but not all are. And it does not sustain us, emotion alone. We still eat, drink, breathe. It's just another need we have." He shrugs.
"Ah...the pleasures of food. It has been some time," Luigi noted. "So you do eat. But emotions are not optional. Interesting. Do you feel...unclean when you do...feed? Is feeding a good word for it?"
"Harvest. We harvest emotions--or rather, we call it 'glamour', once it's the energy we need. Are you asking about my personal feelings regarding harvesting, or the societal view?"
Luigi considered that for a moment. "Personal, if willing," he finally answers. "I presume you are all individuals with your own thoughts on such."
"The emotion I'm most capable of harvesting is fear, Luigi. Paranoia, anxiety, dread. Part of my work is to cultivate an understanding of fear. Given my line of work, what this often means is making sure people understand the gravity of having holes in their security. Impressing on them what it could mean to them, to ignore flaws in their systems. Making sure they have a healthy amount of fear for those who would trespass against them."
He shrugs. "I don't feel unclean when I do it. But I try not to feel...righteous while doing it either. Like I'm doing it for their own good alone."
"Fear?" Luigi 'hmms' over that for a bit. "Are you going to attempt to do that to me if you complete a consultation for the theater?" he asks with a laugh. "Oh! Is it possibly for you to harvest from not humans?"
"Yes, it is. More easily than most vampires can feed on us, from what I've seen. Twice, I've had to hold a Kindred's hair back while they vomited up my blood. I know some of you can, but certainly not all. Can you, Luigi?"
While Mearcstapa's still not making direct eye contact by habit--that seems to be more a function of himself, more than avoiding looking a Ventrue in the eyes, perhaps--there is a glance toward Luigi's face and a crooked smirk there.
Luigi shrugged. "I have never tried. It is not everyday you have Lost giving their Yes to being fed upon, at least, not in my world," he notes with a grin. (must not crash buy that merit right now) "I mean, I can feed on the unwilling, and admit I have had to. But my tastes run strong towards the willing."
"...as Jasper's did toward criminals." Clearly connecting dots in the back of his head. "Well. If it were your desire to experiment at some point, I am a willing subject. Provided you don't drink too deeply. We could keep a bucket on hand, in case you throw up my blood, too."
"I ...appreciate the offer, but I think I will leave the experimentation aside, senza offesa," Luigi tells him. "And Jasper? This is a name I do not know."
"Jasper Wright. He was the second Invictus that Jack and I each encountered." Mearc seems to consider his words thoughtfully. "I bear him no strong ill will, but I'd be fine if I never encountered him again."
Luigi nods slowly in understanding. "Senza offesa," he assures Mearc. "That is often a standard outcome of encounters with my kind. We can be charming in the moment, but afterwards , that moment leaves a dirty taste on the mouth."
"And yet, there's a good number of you in town who I choose to hang out with." He chuckles. "I returned to the theater because the idea of spending time with you seemed pleasant."
"Grazie," Luigi replies with a dip of his head. "I try to be of enduring charm. My sire says it is because of my Noble life before I was embraced, buuut...who can say. My family were asini" He flicks his hands underneath his chin at no one. "You will notice I did not get overworked when you came in without knocking, because like you, I think I will find your continued and re occuring presence enjoyable."
"It was my hope that you'd say something if I was annoying you. Though I did interrupt your sword practice. Fencing seems popular among the Invictus, from what I've seen. Is it the air of refinement, or is there a martial school of fencers among you or something?"
Luigi raised and wagged a finger as he smiled out an answer. "None of the above. It is the duel. Older kindred fancy such things for settling disputes, but it is much more common with the Unconquered. I, particularly, was an accomplished duelist. Often have I stood as someone;s champion. You could say it was my reason for being in the Invictus." He laughed. "Listen to me, I sound like I have left it entirely behind. Hah!"
"So you do. Would you leave it completely?" The question is thoughtful, as Mearc watches Luigi.
"I cannot. Oaths bind me as surely as Iron might bind you," Luigi stated, relaying one of the few things about changelings he knows. "I do not know if I would want to anyways. Sometimes things can be ...too much, but it has kept my second life interesting. And there are occasional bright stars worth looking at within."
"Oaths bind us well enough that you didn't need to make that comparison. Promises are important to us, Luigi." He shakes his head, tucking a strand of his hair behind an ear.
"I did not know that," Luigi notes thoughtfully. "There is not magical compulsion, however, on my part. Simply the knowledge that were I to let them go, my word would be worthless. " He grins. "And an endless flood of Invictus hitmen would also be in store. My particular oath is that...severe."
"The hitmen would probably be problematic." Mearc shakes his head. "Even as skilled a duelist as you are."
"Yes. Swords do not work as well in informal situations where guns and explosives may be in play," Luigi agreed. He stood up on the stage, and walked back over to his dueling saber. "Oddly, I have only put one of my kind to the final death with this."
"I've never learned how to use a sword, personally. It's...not a skillset I'm expected to need, given my role within my court. I am armed, but with less dignity and grace about it." He shakes his head, eyeing the sword.
He hefts his sword in both hands. Very respectfully, as if it were a true friend. Luigi gives Mearc a look. "Guns? Knives. Fists?"
Mearc slowly reaches into one of the pockets of his cargo pants, coming out with three throwing knives--holding them up demonstratively, not threateningly.
Luigi laughs, and sets down his sword carefully once more. Then he reaches into the cuffs of his own sleeves, and pulls out two throwing knives. "A good choice. Sometimes you need the reach, yeah?"
"Yeah, if someone's coming close to me with intent to harm, I'm disappearing and running away. As you did, when Jack and I visited. It's a smart trick."
"I consider it my most useful," Luigi admitted. "Bravery has its place, but caution has a large one. Do you often see yourself entangled in conflict, Signore Mearcstapa?"
His smile dims a little, as he puts his knives away. "My community is rarely completely at peace. Though you have some idea of what we are, how we become so, I don't think you've thought through the implications completely. What it means to be a group of trauma survivors all with cracks in different places, still hunted by the beings that made us what we are."
"Forgive. It is true I do not think much about beyond what is within the world of my kind," Luigi admits, putting away his throwing knives. "There is enough there to occupy the whole of my attention, just to survive. But your are right, such a collection of individuals I can see being quite the powder keg. Boom...all that is needed is the wrong ...what is the word I am looking for?"
"Spark. Inciting incident. Sometimes the wrong comment. Right now, we're embroiled in diplomatic talks with other neighboring cities, trying to prevent a war. So...that's fun. Jack's been more hands-on with it than I. He's with the Spring Court, they tend to be our face, if you know what I mean."
"Diplomats. So you have Courts. Like...the Royal courts? Hah...such things fell out of fashion before my time as a nobleman. A shame, I think I would have done very well in the courts of the Old Italian princes." He chuckles. "Spring...so they are named after seasons, I am guessing, and not parts of a mattress?" He chuckles at his own bad joke.
"Mm, seasonal courts. It's why Eyrgjafa--have you met her yet? She's Kindred, very intelligent. Not a woman I'd want to cross--calls us your 'seasonal friends' when talking about us. Which exaggerates the relationship between our communities a little, but I don't mind it, personally. As I introduced myself, I'm the Scrivener of the Autumn Court of the Shackamaxon Freehold."
Luigi bowed slightly again, almost out of reflex, at receiving Mearc's title once more. "So there are four courts...are they each specialized and representative, like the Spring are...diplomats?" he asked.
Mearc inclines his head. "Though, there's something to be said about tendencies and taking different approaches to each court's philosophy. You are not exactly in the same role as every other member of the Invictus, but all who are part of the Invictus share some similarities."
"Hmm....the Invictus is a complete set of roles. There are knights, knaves, lords, scholars and everything else in between. It tries so hard to follow traditions in its organization," Luigi states. "But you are telling me the courts follow ideologies, not purpose. Okay, this I understand. What is it for your court then, Signore?"
"Remember how I mentioned earlier that fear is the emotion most easy for me to harvest? That is because Autumn is the court of Fear--and the court that works to learn how to conquer it. And this may manifest as becoming a student of fae magic, conquering that which is a part of us, facing our nature. Or learning to manipulate fear to steer normal people away from situations where they're endangered by such. And I'm not going to speak in detail on the other courts--you'll have to ask Jack about Spring at some point, if you really want to know. And track down a Winter, if you can, and a Summer as well."
Luigi nods, and gives a sheepish laugh. "If Maestro Jack is as forthcoming, perhaps I will, but I admit, forgive, I probably won't be tracking down more of your kind. I cannot hope that the others will be as amichevole as you two have been." There is a pause, and he tilts his head as he realizes something. "You sent Signore Sharpe my way. Is he a seasonal associate of yours?" he asks with a grin.
There's a pause, then a soft, almost self-mocking laugh. "No, he's not a member of my court. He's a good friend, though, and he's missed the theater. I had hoped there might be some way for him to get involved here, in order to feel more connected to it. My apologies for not sharing those ulterior motives in advance."
"We had a pleasant (ooc: still ongoing so not going to reference too much here) conversation. I may have to track him down and ask him out on a friendly date to a show, to maybe discuss such a possibility. I could use a knowledgeable Steward of my palace. And certainly I would suggest him to any productions he would be appropriate for."
"You'll have to discuss that with him." There's a pause and then a slight head tilt. "How much emphasis on 'friendly', and how much on 'date', there?"
"I...do not understand the question," Luigi admitted, delightfully confused. "I hope to become friends with this man of Theatre, and am planning a date with him to see a show."
Mearc chuckles. "Nevermind. It will be good to each of you to have a friend."
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