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A bouquet of irises and foxglove arrives at Simon's place. If counting the sprigs, it's 6 irises, 7 of foxglove, with a very simple violet ribbon to bind the green stems. With it is a wax-sealed letter:
S,
I find myself with an idle thought turning towards our meeting the other day. I fear I neglected to gather an answer to the question of how you found the reading material offered to you. I hope it is well received and quite enticing.
Perhaps this simple floral arrangement might bring a spot of color to your day. A simple thought passed from my mind upon you to offer the same in turn.
Until next,
J.
The next day, Jasper gets a text:
Interesting choices with the flowers. I have my guess, but what is the symbolism?
S,
I will explain it to you if you answer one question. Did they make you smile?
Signed,
J.
A little.
S,
There are many layers of symbolism at play here. The foxglove implies youth, and the iris can speak of the wisdom caught within it. The number of flowers, thirteen, is often regarded as a cursed number. Such a thing calls to the poppet you keep.
Foxglove is also mildly poisonous, able to cause irregular heart palpitations, nausea, and eventually death. The iris flower by contrast is known for treating cold, softening the roughest of skin, and is a sweet perfume ingredient.
The violet ribbon is to reference royalty with purple, but to scale it down from those of the highest ranks to represent nobility and intent. It is unmonogrammed and wrapped firmly but not unable to loosen should you desire.
The bundle, if they did not adjust it, should have come simply. No extra vase, no bells, nothing of the sort. A very straight forward and simple approach, relying on the messaging to convey this very early courtship token to you.
I am glad that they brought a smile to your face. I wish I had seen it.
Signed,
J.
I see.
Why are you texting like that?
S,
A proper courtship begins with a well formed letter. Any scholar knows that, and I intend to show you that I am much more than a pretty set of eyes. I'm hoping that through such correspondence, you may come to appreciate the mind that sits behind them while it gets to know you.
Signed,
J.
Very well. Consider your first token tentatively accepted. I'm intrigued to see where you plan to go with this.
S,
I intend to go to the corner of Elfreth Alley. There, I will walk the two blocks down the brick path with the lamp posts to one of my favorite places in the city.
My plan would be to have you there with me, on my arm, just the two of us. Would you do me the honor of coming to be my escort this evening?
Signed,
J.
S,
As an addendum, should you be willing, perhaps you might indulge me? I would love to see you in something a bit more simple. Do you own a turtleneck and well-fitted slacks? Forgive my rakish appetite, but I would very much like the way I could view your body even while clothed in such a way.
Even should you choose not to, I would be more than blessed to find myself in your company.
Would you have any requests of my attire for the evening?
Signed,
J.
If you send me an address, I'll have something delivered to you.
S,
I can only receive mail and packages at my post office box. That is [address].
Signed,
J.
Very well. I'll have something sent there today.
S,
I look forward to receiving what you give.
Signed,
J.
After some stilted texted conversations, Jasper has settled himself against one of the old brick buildings along the cobblestone streets of Elfreth's Alley. Tonight he's wearing a variation off of outfit than what most might expect for him. The sweater and cashmere scarf fit well, but the jeans seemed out of place. The jacket easily settled across his shoulders as his hair spilled onto his shoulders from a lazy attempt at a ponytail. The Kindred was lit up well from the lights playing off his phone, a new set of earbuds sticking out of them and plugged into one of the elder's ears.
A swanky as fuck car pulls up down the street--one that Jasper recognizes. From the back seat the douchebag Sleepwalker slides, dressed in dark slacks and a deep blue turtleneck sweater that fits him very well. He closes the door--but the car doesn't pull away, staying parked right where it is, the driver visible through faintly tinted windows. It's clear the guard isn't going away completely--but at least will be keeping some distance.
Jasper pulls the earbud and unplugged it, the sound of the MarchWalker613 channel playing out a bit of advice on how to get through a second story window when dealing with a zinc plated magnetic lock without setting off anything.
He's finally gotten the youtube clip finally turned off as Simon was nearly up. The bespectacled Mekhet nodded to the other, taking in every detail of them before coming forward to offer out an arm.
"Thank you for coming. If I may, perhaps we might walk and talk together?"
Simon gave Jasper a far less pleasant up and down look. Judgemental as always, picking apart how the outfit fits him--not if the clothes were good enough for him--as if Jasper was the one who was potentially subpar.
But he does rest a hand, very lightly, against the Kindred's arm. So maybe he's not too offended by his presence. "If you like," he replies. "You wished to show me a particular place, I believe."
"Yes." He looks around before very idly setting a pace down the cobblestones. It was not nearly so colorful an experience at night. "But it will be something of a walk."
"Have you been through Elfreth's Alley before? It's... quaint. It's the longest lived in portion of the city continuously. Go back a hundred years? Much of the same houses, the same layout, and some of the same families. A piece of living history," he notes.
"I've been through here before, yes," Simon replies, his other hand lifting to push his glasses up as he glances about the alley idly. "A very beautiful neighborhood, indeed."
"The different flags give me some amusement. The modern American, the Betsy Ross, the British..." Each of these brings a subtle amusement to his tone as he nods towards them as they walk. "... Some even I don't quite recognize off the top of my head." Like the Progress Pride flag stuck in someone's window.
"But it lets you walk through history. Almost feels like even with the passage of time, there are some pockets that will always be there in order to better moor those who study it."
Simon glances up at the pride flag, a brow arching slowly. "...Surely you've seen a rainbow flag before," Simon says with clear judgement and suspicion. "Mm. It's good to see that some people value our past. It's a shame that it's not more wide spread."
"Rainbow, yes, but there's more colors. Life, healing, sunlight, nature, serenity, and spirit, if I recall correctly, but I'm not sure quite about the rest," says Jasper. Still, he's quick to let them go back to the other portions. "I find that the key is to have a value and respect for the the past while embracing progress and modernity. So much talk about wishing one could have lived in another era when our current has its own wonders and glamour about it."
"Ah. The pink, white, and blue represents transgender people," Simon explains idly as they walk. "The black and brown stripes represent people of color." His shoulders lift. "It's meant to call attention to those more marginalized within the community, I believe."
He pauses to side-eye Jasper, with a flicker of annoyance. Was that a read??? A soft scoff, and Simon goes back to looking over the neighborhood. "Does it?"
"Think of it," says Jasper as they come to the end of the short alleyway. "Letters can be sent near instantly across the world when doing so before would have been near impossible. Entire troves of knowledge are being digitized and openly distributed so that people can educate themselves on nearly any topic. . More people are free to be themselves, and commit themselves, however they wish than any time before."
As he spoke, Jasper's enthusiasm began to just grow more and more. "Creative endeavors have sprung up in all sectors, and if one doesn't find contentment in their own lives, they can often find a way to play pretend with others to accept and develop their own realities together. Thousands of books are put out a day. It's near magical from what one could even imagine a hundred years ago."
Simon trails off into silence, his eerie gaze turning back to stare at Jasper. He looks... a little bewildered in the face of Jasper's boundless enthusiasm, and clearly unsure what the hell to say to that, at first.
"You are incredibly naive," Simon eventually settles on.
Jasper bursts out into joyful laughter at that declaration. He curls in closer, patting the hand on his arm with his very long fingered hand. Then, scandalously, he darts in for a very quick cheek peck before turning them onto the main, modern road, heading south.
"Am I? Tell me, dear Simon," finally back to that very small lift of his lips as if this shallow impression of a smile were his shit-eating grin, "when would you have wished to live. Where? Why?"
"You are. You speak as if all of that 'wonder' doesn't come with sacrifices. The world is a marvelous place, it's true, but when you look past the veneer it's all rot."
The kiss causes his nose to wrinkle, but he doesn't go so far as to pull away. "Hm. I'm not sure there is a period I would wish to live in. Visit? Sure." A pause, exhaling a sigh. As if this conversation were starting to weigh on his patience. "The Romantic Era, perhaps. It seems like a fine place to live in, to see the artistic and technological innovations first hand."
"It does, but there is always a trade in darkness and light. Something one sees in the day, and one they see at night. One can love the taste of a fine meal without loving the slaughterhouse floor. Yes, we know both happen, but now? Now others take care of it instead of you having to raise the cow, shovel its shit personally, and still carry the slaughtered beef about and still lose half of it to not being able to work long enough."
"The wonder is part of convenience and innovation, even if we continue to have the rot about. The rot, the manure of life, makes such wonderful compost for the flowers of the modern age." Jasper smiles broadly. "And that I appreciate."
"But I certainly can appreciate the idea of visiting times. Spending a few years exploring, gathering the true taste of a place and age, then moving on. There's something... quite novel about the notion," he notes.
"That's a fair point, I suppose." The idea of convenience is something the rich as fuck white man can understand, at least. His whole life is built upon convenience and privilege.
"Mm. Unfortunately impossible, but yes, it is an intriguing thought. But I suppose that is why I enjoy collecting items of historical importance. It is like walking back in time, as close as we can get."
"You can feel the significance in some objects," agrees Jasper. "To hold it in your hands, let it give the impressions of its life to you. I've come to really appreciate such things."
He stops them before... a random brick building. (https://q-ec.bstatic.com/images/hotel/max1024x768/400/40053767.jpg) "Thank you for coming out with me. Now, if you're willing, we can see my favorite place in the city." He nods his way into the space.
Under the dark of the moon, one of those sleeping in this roof leaves as someone different, but looks the same.
The rats below think with one mind, move as one.
The manager here is a drunk. They take bribes to conveniently lose security footage to an old security system.
Then Jasper hears a very, very faint... strange whisper coming from Simon. He maybe can't even make out the words exactly, but the voice sounds... inhuman and dark. Simon doesn't even blink, just stares up at the building for a long moment, looking thoughtful.
Based on Simon's expression....... he is not impressed. But when is he ever impressed. "I... see." So, so judging. "Why?"
Jasper is not at least too obvious when he glances about, but then he slides his fingers over Simon's hand encouragingly. "Let me show you instead. Unless you're not quite... ready?"
Simon gives an impatient flick of his hand in reply. "No. Let's have a look."
Inside, the Mekhet took to a small bit of cash exchanged, then started up the stairs as well. He continued on up and up, taking the key he was given to finally let them out onto the rooftop.
To their left was an Christ Church - a historic church with a graveyard including Ben Franklin's grave. To their right? A highway that then showed the waters in the distance.
The aptly dressed Jasper stepped out onto the tall roof, looking around to the city, the open expanse, able to see so much in all directions. He looked back to Simon, holding out a hand as if inviting him closer. "This. This is my favorite view in the city."
Simon follows him up, giving a doubtful glance about once on the roof. Jasper's hand isn't taken--because ew, who holds hands these days???
But he does step up to the edge of the roof, looking out over the view. He seems more interested in the church and graveyard than the highway and water, head turned more towards that direction. "It's not a bad view."
That means that Jasper just comes behind the other, placing his hands on Simon's hips as he pressed behind him softly. He turned his head, placing a kiss on the turtleneck, well, just past it, at the place where neck met with jawline. "Your view didn't include the best part of it tonight. You."
The Sleepwalker lets out a sigh. Weary rather than swooning. "You do enjoy laying it on thick, don't you?"
"You know, the man you remind me of would've melted at such words." Jasper's arms came to link firmly around the other as he held on. "I must admit, I like that you didn't."
"You know, we are alone. Even if your driver is parked not far. Maybe, just maybe, you could tell me about those whispers?" murmured the Mekhet as if this were some sexy, steamy exchange.
"The man I remind you of sounds like a fool," Simon snips, then tilts his head to glance back at him through his glasses. "Whispers?"
"A very, very enjoyable one." He studied the other, glasses almost touching. "The whispers that follow you. The darkness over your shoulder."
Simon turns more--then steps back to pull free from his arms, eyeing him. "Do I receive the same information in return? I know you want my secrets. My blood. You're a wolf in sheep's clothing."
Jasper's eyebrow raises ever so slightly. "The detail that you go into will determine my own response, but... I suppose there's a degree of freedom that comes from such a trade in information."
Simon considers Jasper for a long, long moment, eyes narrowed. "...I was possessed. Temporarily. The issue was resolved sufficiently, but not completely." Curt and to the point, but still rather vague.
Jasper nods his head, then gestures to the other. "What is it you're curious about?"
"What you are. What makes you a monster."
"A matter of some debate, but I suppose a curse from God. It's the answer that I've heard and understood the most," says Jasper in a similarly vague way before eyeing the other. "Are you willing to continue this discussion? I understand you're not often comfortable talking about yourself."
Simon's head tilts a little as Jasper calls himself cursed. A spark of intrigue behind the normally judging/intimidating gaze. "If you have questions, you may ask them. I do not promise to answer."
"Is what I felt at the back of your head related to this, a prior injury, or a strange tumorous growth?" asks Jasper perhaps bluntly. "If it's a matter of health..."
His eyes narrow a hint before he exhales a breath. "It is related."
"When you are comfortable, I would like to see it." Jasper makes no suggestion that the time is now, but instead puts the ball in the Sleepwalker's court.
His chin lifts a little in acknowledgement--the request is heard but currently not confirmed or denied. Definitely not a now situation. "What are the terms of your curse?" As if the curse was some contract Jasper accidentally signed.
"Constantly evolving. I cannot say that I'm certain of the specifics in that way." He spreads his hands as if it was out of his control.
"Does the poppet help protect you from possession?"
Simon's lips purse at the thought of an evolving curse. "No," he replies simply.
"Would you say you're enjoying your date?" asks the Mekhet with the slightest tug at his lips.
"I wouldn't go so far as to say I am enjoying it," Simon replies curtly. "But it is intriguing enough. I have not left, have I?"
There's a slight tilt to his head. "I suppose you'll need to plan the next one."
"It seems more convenient to just meet at the hotel."
"The modern world is there for convenience, but you wish to visit the eras of before. If you choose the hotel, we can do that, but no complaints on the modernity," says Jasper.
"I visit the eras of before in my own home, through books and studying my own collection." A beat pause. "I did find the time to skim through your gifts. They were interesting."
"I'm glad. Perhaps we can discuss them when you've had more time to read through?" suggests Jasper. "I imagine you and I both care for discretion in the matters tonight, yes?"
"I do appreciate discretion," Simon confirms with a nod. "And I do not speak of other people's curses. It's bad luck."
"It can be extremely so," agrees Jasper. "Did you wish to continue this discussion or did you need to head to the appointment you set after me?" As if just assuming the night had not, in fact, been cleared.
Simon lifts his hand to glance at a watch there, then exhales a breath. "Yes... I should perhaps be going." A beat pause, where their uneasy stare settles on him for a few seconds. "I'm sure we will meet again sometime soon."
"Perhaps we will with the answer to one very simple question - do you want to see me?" asks Jasper. "Because you choosing to dress up for me... well, let's say I appreciate it and cannot wait to call on you again."
The Sleepwalker stares for a long moment, meeting his eyes, then his own flit down to take in the sight of Jasper in the outfit he'd selected. "Yes," he decides finally, then starts to make his way to the stairs that leads down from the roof.
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