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In the dark of the night, a shadow falls over a quiet rooftop in a quiet corner of Philly, relatively remote as it’s a…less used part of town. That shadow coalesces as it suddenly becomes clear it’s source is descending, and then with a surprisingly soft thump one Guy Dagenham Underwold lands on the roof of the building.
Titania looks up as as Guy lands, she is sitting in the dark corner under one of the shelters playing Pokemon Go.
"Evening Guy. How goes it?" She is being practically well behaved today. No tail or wings. Just her typical im a goth bitch getup.
“It goes well enough, how about you?” He asks in return, nodding to the other Kindred. He runs his fingers through his hair, worn clipped short tonight over a trimmed little beard and mustache.
"Good enough, interesting nights lately."
She shrugs sliding her phone into her jacket and looking up at him with those red eyes of hers.
"Ive met Mages and Lost all recently. Quite the interesting time we are awake in it seems." (edited)
“What can I say, most of them grew up hearing about us in fiction, unlike other points in history. Some are predisposed to liking us. “
“I hope your meetings were pleasant enough.”
Cold winter winds bluster and hurl a spray of autumn leaves onto the rooftop. Dead leaves aren't a strangeness. Their brightness might be, though. The mystery isn't stretched out long at all, though, as they rise, and swirl, and coalesce into a very familiar Vorpal, dressed entirely in fine hand-crafted clothing, from her leather hooded longcoat to her blouse and boots. "I'd say the meetings were a touch of a mixed bag, if asked. Which I wasn't. But there you have it anyway~!"
She sweeps a polite bow towards the Kindred. "A fine evening to you both. I hope I'm not interrupting anything too private~?"
She chuckles at that. "Its an odd point for them not to be afraid of the storys they hear about us in the night."
That chuckle turns into a click of the tongue and a shake of the head. "I wasnt asking no, but she is right. A mixed bag of them."
Before a shrug of her shoulders at the question. "Evening Vorpal, no just a chance meeting, nothing more."
“Not interrupting anything other than us crusty one’s talking about our nights. Evening, Vorpal. Nice digs.”
“I think it’s because the Daeva and the Ventrue have been the more popular stories to draw on, of late.”
"If I may- you may be laboring under the presumption that of all the curious creatures walking alongside the others," V offers politely. "-that you and yours are in some unique position to be feared.
I hope you will permit me to dispel that illusion."
V gestures out at the city beneath them. "As you said. There are others. Mentalists. Mediums. Those like me, and you, and like Bones," she mentions, specifically. "And of all of them I've mentioned, only one is truly without limits.
And it is not represented on this rooftop.
I would treat those who step beyond the veil of the mundane as equals, were I you, Titania, or you may tempt those you meet to prove otherwise. Those who can summon the true Sun in the dark of the night, with all the implications that suggests. Those that might decide that crossing them will leave you shunted forward half a day to deal with the daylight as you will. Those for whom fire is a toy, or the body is as clay, or the spirit as sturdy as wet tissue. Not a one of these are threats- I do not say them because you are at risk of me executing or inducing any of them in your direction, but because they are the manner of thing which, once it has been decided you are deserving of them, tend not to allow for an appeal.
Which is to say it is easier to avoid them with courtesy than it is to evade them afterwards."
"I am not laboring under any assumption that we are in a uniuqe position to be feared. Simply stating facts, that this is the time in my experience of history that we have been the least feared by the general Kine population."
There is a smile as she speaks, voice calm. Vorpal has not come close to inciting an emotion yet.
"Last I checked how I chose to interact with my associates is my decision. You feel the need to ensure with a pact of some sorts that I do not imply that your associates are beneath me. Aside from a few light insults to match those that I have been given I have done nothing to these associates of yours to elicit such a response. Correct me if I am wrong but Bones, being the one without limits, is more than capable of defending themselves physically and verbally. They simply chose to start the conversation with an insult and so so it was returned."
She leans back in her make shift seat closing her eyes.
"And so you choose to start a conversation by threatening what you can do to me should I decide to push you.
Now after you spent the last conversation giving me advice on how to make friends. I would say that this is not a very good way to make friends and nor has it been the month upon which we discussed reviewing this situation."
Philadelphia is not Vienna, and west philly is not the Prater District, but long slow walks down poorly lit dangerous streets inviting someone to be rude to him is a time honored method of hunting for the Spina. He's wearing a black top coat over a simple brown suit of the everyman and a derby hat. Judging from the absence of blood on the nose, he's yet to strike it rich. When he spots the distant company he shifts his cane up his grip somewhat and taps the handle near his brow as something of a salutation towards Guy. The cane slides back down to the ground and is caught before it cracks the sidewalk, settling onto the tip of his boot silently instead. He doesn't have to approach if it would be rude to do so.
"Ah, do forgive the misunderstanding then- when you transitioned directly from discussing the types of folx you'd met lately to directly stating how curious it was that "they" weren't afraid of the stories about you, and all without a new subject indicated, I thought you were saying it strange that we do not fear you." She tips her head to the side. "And perhaps I could have been more clear than explicitly stating that there was no threat in what I said whatsoever, but I'll repeat again that there is, in fact, no threat in what I said whatsoever. There is no threat in telling someone they may be burned if they thrust their hand into a fire, and there is no threat in telling someone that deliberate discourtesy- such as outright calling other powerful beings beneath them- could have a similar result." She glances to Guy a moment. "I was unaware that "being polite tends to avoid unpleasant situations" was a controversial statement."
She catches Visigny's gesture, and lifts a hand, the pale, skinny- and familiar to Visigny!- dark-haired woman covered in scars waving down to him in greeting. "Ah! The Capitan has found us as well. Is it well if I extend an invitation to join us?"
When his title is mentioned and attention drawn his way his hand moves up to his hat, removing it before the lady looks his way, settling it over his chest. There is a slight bow from the waist, a little twitch of the heels together.
"No, I was discussing the Kine and their fear of us.
Telling others far older than you how to live their lives is however. Again as I have mentioned the comment to Bones was a response to their insult of me."
Then she turns to Visigny and nods her head. "Oh another play partner enters the ring."
When invitation is given, Visigny indicates he understands with another little cane salute. But rather than proceed to the roof immediately, he waits a hair with his Auspex on to ensure just how deserted the street is. His eyes canvas the buildings about for signs of surveillance technology. His eyes shut, listening for breathing of drunks under newspapers. And only once he's certain it will bring no issues in doing so, insofar as he can tell anyway, he steps into the alleyway beside the building and then climbs up the drain pipe like a lemur. Arm over over arm, leg over leg, until he springs over the lip of the roof and onto his feet in a fencer's first position, cane held wide to his side, and then eased to the ground with a click.
"Madame Sanguine. Mister Dagenham. Miss Drexel. Please accept my humble good evening." (edited)
"My apologies for the misunderstanding. As for the insult, declaring someone's place as outright beneath you is more than a simple insult, which is why I saw fit to speak to it. I, myself, would rather say something unnecessary than risk not saying something that could be of assistance. If you take that as insult, you are welcome to my apology for such."
As before, Jackie sweeps into an elegant bow to greet Visigny. "Accepted and offered in return, Capitan, and welcome to our little moonlight salon. I hope the evening has treated you well so far?"
"Your apology is noted and accepted."
She smiles to Visigny keeping her eyes shut thought locking onto him directly.
"Visigny, it is a pleasure." (edited)
Visigny's focus snaps viper quick to Jackie when the creature bows before him. His head tilts in what is so evidently a dead thing's curiosity that it might disturb a little. But he recovers very quickly from that surprise, immediately dipping into the bow of the Viennese night court. It involves bent knees and sort of tilting your torso over your knees while swinging your arms wide. It looks painfully isometric. And he holds it, eyes not registering any of the straing the bow should be eliciting.
"Never so better than now, Miss Drexel." He waits for her to rise first, then follows suit after adding a few seconds past the full duration of her own bow so as to have paid the greater share of respect. His body again attains its ease, cane finding his boot toe. His hand wobbles about with the handle in hand. Like he's shifting stick on a truck only he can see. It's a pensive and restless thing.
Titania's address to him is answered with a snap of his attention her way with an appreciative smile and a dip of the head. "Likewise, Madame. I hope your nights have been the right sort of eventful and the right kind of exciting since we last had chance to speak."
V is accustomed to curiosity from beyond the pale. Mages, other Lost, the spirits of the damned in particular. This is a curiosity in flavor, but not quite in nature, and she bears the scrutiny well, having the good graces to at least put on a demure reaction to that greater share of respect. She's been studying! Not quite as new to The Game as once she was, and with luck, it lands as the appreciative expression of gratitude for his courtesy it's meant to be.
"Mine certainly have been. Curiously enough, I've recently solved a mystery we spoke on when last we met, though I would be lying to say the answer brought me any peace. As it is a loose thread, I thought since we happen to cross paths this evening, I'd tie it off for you, lest you be left to wonder if ever the unknown became known."
Titania 'watches' the exchange with the slightest of smirk touching her lips.
"Well now, you have piqued my interest and I thought you came all this way just to chastise me." She fakes a shocked expression that is so beyond fake and put on its not funny.
"I am pleased you are advanced further in your search for peace, Miss Drexel. Truly. If I had it in my power to give it to you, I think I-- I think I just might, in truth."
Color floods up Visigny's throat and fans out through the blue and sunken veins of his throat and temples, across his face and finally to his ears and lips. All so that he can conjure the flush of a blush in answer to the semaphore of the creature across from him. His eyes fall, and in looking to Titania to answer, he shows a throbbing jugular at the base of his slender throat.
"Madame Sanguine, I have resolved myself to the decision it is best to lead by example. I am craven about many things. And would I were another man than I am I might indulge myself the pleasure of my displeasure. I simply wonder at your methods. You are so unlike the elders I knew in Vienne. Are you not of the old countries, or are you a creature of the new world, Madame? Forgive me my curiosity, if it please you." His hands fold over his cane head. The wobbling of the cane ceases. (edited)
"To chastise? Not in the slightest. I came to discuss a matter of diplomacy with Mister Dagenham, in fact. In the future, if you like, I can presume you're already acquainted with any advice I could give, and save you the trouble of addressing further accidental insult?"
She smiles at the declaration of pleasure at her furthered search, and tips her head gratefully. "I've not the slightest doubt you would, Capitan- you've never expressed less than the finest intentions in my admittedly limited experience. The sentiment is most appreciated."
As for the question levied to Titania, she keeps her nose entirely out of that. It's one thing to intervene on behalf of a friend denigrated in the extreme. It's another to wedge betwixt two members of the same society.
Titania nods a slight click of her tongue.
"I was attempting to make a joke Vorpal. My apologies if it landed flat."
She then turns to Visigny a tilt of her head.
"I am of the old world yes, born and embraced at the height of the Holy Roman Empire. As I am quite sure you are well aware. Your curiosity is understood, I am not like those of the old world no. I long ago lost my patience for it. My kind were not so welcome in the high society, by that I do not talk of my blood but of my talents and of the tasks that I was given because of them."
Her leather bound tome sliding from beneath her coat as she sits forward and for the first time this night her voice gains emotion, weight, the Hatred that she felt is reflected in her tone and the weight of what she had to do.
"It was not so long ago that the Circle was seen as far beneath the others. It was not so long ago that we had to spill Blood to remind the world that we deserve to stand among them.
So forgive me that I do not have the patience for idle platitudes." (edited)
He takes a moment to directly address Jackie, including some staring at her nose. "Miss Drexel, I wish to rid the matter of every doubt. Myself, my Coterie, my Family, and so far as I know no member of my Covenant intend you one shred of harm or misadventure. To demonstrate my sincerity, I would make offer of my arm when you are ready to leave this place. It would by the greatest pleasure to see you safely home, even knowing as I do you have no need of such service."
Only then does he turn to regard Titania. Vampires don't really do compassion, but there's certainly an understanding dawning on Visigny's expression. "Of course, all of those events predate me. But, yes. With the rise of the Von Stahrembergs to the Night Court, and the fracturing of the Unholy Empire, the Lancea et Sanctum became ascendant in Europe and many of your covenant were consigned to the fires."
His hat is removed from his head again, "However, those were nights before the Movement of my brethren existed. A movement whose founders I have dined with, in whose company I trained. And yet it has reached my ears, Madame, and with some puzzlement that you would disdain us as rabble. When it was not the Movement nor certainly myself that put crones to the sword. I have been quarreling with the Lance for decades in Vienna. They're a republic now, you know. And the Lance is blunted. You could return there if you wished, and laugh in their faces."
"So if you could please, madame, inform me of the myriad ways I have offended you and permit me to rectify them, I am certain I might escape this encounter with my esteem of self as a gentleman in tact."
"No need for an apology, levity is worth pursuing. Clarity, too, which is why I spoke- not offense, in this case," V reassures before Visigny takes hold of her attention. She shifts her posture to the sort of statue-still posterity that sculptors would slay to have on their modeling stands, giving him every whit of attention, and nodding in firm appreciation afterwards. "Consider the matter doubtless, then. I will gladly accept your offer, though in truth neither it nor your assurances were needed to maintain my trust in you and yours."
Then it's her turn to listen. The only thing she does is pull a thick tome of her own from beneath her coat to sit primly on her knees as she lets the matter come out between the two.
"My Covenant. We were not even a Covenant yet, not in the eyes of Lancea. Not in the eyes of any of the Covenants of the time."
She replaces her book into her coat before she continues, perhaps the only thing in the world that she shows respect.
"It is not that you have offered me any offense simply that I have left behind the platitudes of the time you seem to live by. I have been a weapon since those days, nothing more, that is all I was. All I was entitled to be. This is only my second time being awake since those blood filled nights, since I had to listen to my kin scream just for daring to not conform. I have yet to be awake 50 years in a time where we are truly respected."
There is that same emotion in her words accentuated each time she speaks of the old times, the other covenants, the burning of her kin.
"So you ask me to conform to that which has seen my kin burnt? I follow the rules of the city but I will not become like that again. I will not be prim and proper until those wounds have been answered to. I tried that path and it let too many of my Kin burn before they were put in their place."
And now it is starting to make a little more sense to Visigny. There seems to be a further light of understanding going on behind his now vivid brown eyes. "Ahhhh," he says with a facsimile of genuine emotion born of a pulse and quick flesh, "you have what we used to call old blood with a young mind. And then, of course, the long sleep can play all sorts of troubles with the psyche. You have been ill-treated by time and circumstance, and this is how you exhibit control of your surroundings. Your beast has known fear and pain and not yet vengeance. Oh, Madame, the fury of that sensation is something I cannot claim to fully know but whose cousin's bayonet bit my liver. I promise you this. But I am not here to strip our sleeves and compare wounds."
"If you would have me comport myself in some other fashion than I do, then by all means show me. I am a traveler here. A tourist. A guest. I feel as lost here as you do, Madame. Of this I assure you, likewise. Here, I am not hunted for my blood having the wrong politics. It has not been simple for one of Jumel's blood to walk my path, either. We should be allies, only your beast's rightful upset keeps us at odds. If you were to ask my opinion, Madame. Which I recognize you did not. Only that I feel all my prior contrition has earned me the right to chance to offer it."
He begins to advance towards Jackie's general direction, starting to return his hat to his head. (edited)
I have been a weapon since those days, nothing more, that is all I was. All I was entitled to be.
... since I had to listen to my kin scream just for daring to not conform.
There is a quiver. Not in a shadow. In all the shadows on the rooftop. A tremble like a tightening fist clenched to cinch control. These are stories she knows by heart. The cast is different, the setting, the motives, but the story is old.
And it keeps being told.
"I do not know your hurts, Miss Sanguine. But much like the Capitan, I know my own and I hear echoes of yours in them. I will not compare them, but I will say it pains me to see even slivers of what I know in your own tale. To be reduced to a weapon is a terrible fate- and to survive such times, knowing that one can be so reduced, perhaps a worse one. I would not dare to say. Your pains are not mine to judge. But my sympathy is mine to offer. If you would have it."
For those that are listening and I know Vorpals are there is a crunch as the, a crumbling as the wall under her hand turns to dust. Then all of the emotion fades from her face, from her words as she continues.
"You may offer your advice dear Visigny, though as has been shown I am very unlikely to listen."
Then she scoffs, the mask returned to where it was before Visigny so skillfully uncovered it.
"I note your sympathies Vorpal, but I did not ask for them and nor do I need them."
Visigny reaches the side of Vorpal and does extend his elbow to her, as he had said he would. But when the hat returns to his head, it's not returning to the head of a man with the regal bearing of the Viennese night court, more of a Berlin street German. He looks like an ordinary sort of man, and the drab suit and topcoat make him look like he's maybe in town on business. In conversational German he tries this again.
"Frau Sanguine, I can treat you any way you want. So long as it's respectful. I have to raise this above a brawl. I assure you I'm full of every ugly emotion you know of in various quantities, too. Your circumstances may be unique, Frau, but so are everyone else's. So if all you can do for me is lash out at me, I can't help you. Because after enough of it, my beast won't let me. So until you're ready to put away your claws, I am afraid I can't be around you anymore. Good evening, Frau Sanguine."
He looks apologetically to Vorpal and removes his hat in contrition. "Forgive me if you do not speak German, I will try to remember it as best I can so I can relay what I said as I walk you home." (edited)
Jackie's eyes flit to the crumbled concrete, and back to Titania as she speaks.
"I appreciate you stating so with such clarity." Here, too, the gates are closed. There is naught but civility.
You know.
The bare minimum with which another should be treated.
"You have no interest in any insights from one such as me, as you choose to take them as insults. You have no interest in connecting with one such as me, as you choose to scoff at their offering." Vorpal dips herself, this time into a curtsy, and rises to take Visigny's arm. "I apologize for wasting your time, Miss Sanguine. I'll be sure I do you the courtesy of avoiding such in the future."
She smiles at Visigny as he speaks. "I'm afraid I've only picked up Spanish, Ukrainian, and Hebrew, so far, but I would be fascinated to hear your accounting, Capitan."
There is just a hint of something, regret, maybe. The thought of a raised hand to stop them going. Before she flips back over the wall and flys off into the night as an Owl.
Visigny is way, way, way too Daeva to roll his eyes at a good dramatic exit, though he does turn back about to watch the Owl disappear into the darkness. A process that takes almost no time at all, really.
"And I suppose that was Frau Sanguine's manner of saying 'guten abend herr Visigny.'" Visigny's tight smile suggests this is some attempt at forced contextualization that is keeping him from flying after that Owl with his sword out. He wasn't kidding about that beast thing and needing to be on his way.
He spends some time balling and unballing his right fist as though it were cramping, tosses his cane back into his right hand, and looks to Vorpal to his left. "If we were to jump to ground together, would it cause you the slightest discomfort or inconvenience? And if so, would you permit me to carry you there?"
Jackie waits a few moments as she flies off before murmuring to herself, "I really must learn that trick myself."
She catches the tight notes in his tone, and rests a delicate, thoroughly scarred hand atop his. "I can honestly say I find it hard to believe she would be at all pleased if you took that any other way." Oho, the layers! She's catching on a bit.
"Oh, I could make the descent myself, but not in any way so delightful as allowing myself the pleasure of your assistance. By all means, Capitan, my descent is-" She pauses, deliberately allowing the "literally" to speak itself in silence. "-in your hands."
There's a rueful look given to Jackie as she seems to pick up on the game. Even this close to him, thanks to that courtesy he paid with his blushed cheeks, it's genuinely really really hard to peg him as anything other than alive.
"Miss Drexel," he inquires while sliding an arm about her waist and another beneath her legs to gingerly pluck her from the ground, "for reasons of diplomatic necessity I must ask if you are flirting with me before I answer that."
And then he walks off into air before dropping with a grunt and a hard crouch on the pavement below. Jackie is carefully returned to her feet. The way he keeps staring at her when not focused on another matter is certain;y apparent.
Timing, as they say, is everything. Usually corvids don't fly at night, but this one does, apparently. A flutter of velvet wings brings an ink-dark bird up to the frame of a lamppost, where it lands so delicately, just as Visigny lands on the ground. Did the corvid in question hear all that passed? Well.
... Probably.
Gosh, she weighs nothing. Like, of course, the Mask has some say, and it says "of course she weighs something" but she's just this willowy little wisp of a thing beneath all that gorgeous hand-crafted clothing. And he's certainly not going to miss the- not one, but TWO- sheaths beneath the leather longcoat, either, not with his arm about her waist. "Well. As to whether I'm flirting, I'm inclined to say no- my methods of flirting are precisely one step this side of the subtlety of a slap on the rear- but if you were to ask me if I was trying to make you blush, sir, my answer just might differ. But I can- EEEheehee!" Her voice cracks into a delighted squeal on the descent, melting out of his arms with just unbelievable grace as she's deposited. "-I can truly assure you, your honor remains safe from my wiles."
"Ah," Visigny offers with a fresh wave of understanding. Gone is that street German, and now she's walking with an affable American enough fellow. Still rosy cheeked and well intentioned and graced with a perfect smile when he chooses to offer it. But the body language and methods of speech have tried to transform to those Jackie herself is employing. It's not perfect yet, but he's getting there.
"Inclined to say no is not the same thing as saying no, and so at the end of all that we're back around to where we've begun. Elegant." He moves to resume his escort of the lady, keeping his cane hand free. The bird on his shoulder is not remarked upon beyond a calm, "Good evening, Frau wife." No matter which one it is, that works. "I don't know for certain who to introduce you to, but I am not showing off my avian husbandry skills at the moment. We have company. So if the walk home is no longer acceptable under the changed circumstances, I understand."
Indeed, once she realizes who is where, she flutters down to Visigny's shoulder. A moment's pause there, and then when he greets her as frau wife and makes it clear he cannot understand her, the black bird's wings flutter again, and she unfolds into a tiny redhead in an absolutely impeccable little color-block dress from Gucci's 2023 Winter collection, complete with the matching shoes and coat. She smooths the stomach of the dress with one hand. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Frau Drexel. I can, of course, absent myself, if my presence is intrusive." (edited)
"Ah, that is merely a casualty of attempting to sound more refined than I actually am," she stage whispers. "I did mean no, so I will confirm it as "no- you may generally identify my flirting by finding my hand under some clothing."" Jackie's picking up some new tricks though! "Heavens, the addition of part of your wonderful family is hardly an alteration for the worse. I'd be delighted, if you'll both indulge me the trip?" She beams as Artje unfolds from the bird, recognizing the presence of An Outfit, even if she's not one for fashion herself. "Ooh! I love what you're wearing, Frau Berenyi-Winthrope," she coos. She takes a moment, considers, then adds, "I do have to ask that it remain only part-way, as my residence is not merely my own. Regrettable past experiences with your society in much less civilized cities has developed a stockpile of antipathy among others in my family, and you would both of you be doing me a kindness if I do not have to explain or obfuscate having brought even such two fine individuals as yourselves to our doorstep- a concession to past experiences unresolved, and not a reflection of present company in the slightest."
Making it clear this in no way interferes with her desire to enjoy present company, she makes quick moves to weave Artje into the conversation. "Nonsense, I make it a point to comport myself such that there should be no business I conduct with a spouse that their better half would be unwelcome to arrive at any moment. It's a delight to see you again. We were just-" She pauses and looks to Visigny. "What would the word be? I was going to say "enjoying" the company of Miss Sanguine, but she did make that very difficult and I'm not sure that would be truthful."
"Thriving," Visigny finally suggests to Vorpal by way of word searching. "Together we thrived in her company, though I did learn a great deal of really unfortunate things about her life before she came to America. I don't want to gossip, however. She's old crone. From the burning years. If she'd been in Vienna twenty years ago, Frau wife, she would have known a covenant to temper her. And we could have been allies. I believe I may have gotten through to her tonight."
It's then that he stops walking and gentle extricates himself from Jackie's hold on his arm. Like he needs to acquire some distance for his own sake. He doesn't immediately move to Artje's side, he turns about instead to address Vorpal directly.
"Miss Drexel, I don't believe you initiate your interest in others with what one could justifiably describe as sexual assault. I understand your meaning. You are forward, and if you wanted the body I have, I would know it. I did not ask if you wanted to have this body. I asked if you were flirting with me. I would have taken a no. I would have taken a yes. I would have taken an I do not know. I don't want to take offense." (edited)
She doesn't pose, precisely, at least nothing overt, but one gets the feeling, the way that she pauses just so and tips her head in exactly this way that Artje was, at some point, photographed extensively by someone. "Gucci, Winter 2023," she explains, as if that's absolutely necessary to say. "Usually I find them overdone and crass, and they really don't push any boundaries anymore except on how commercial one can get, but I do love a good color-block, positively weak for it." A pause, and she adds, as if despairing, "Even if most of the collection was either athleisure or basically student work." It's amazing how the tiny intonations in her voice can make the words 'student work' sound like they mean 'dogshit.'
Artje's eyelids flutter briefly, and she smooths her hands over her stomach. "Mmm. Well, for her sake, I hope you did." And then Visigny continues, and she takes a step back from the conversation, both figuratively and literally.
The offer of the word "thriving" surprises, but leaves Jackie smiling. That's a fantastic perspective to hold, and she clearly appreciates it thoroughly. The details of all this- the covenants and crones and such, the Burning Years, these slide past her, unrecognized in the moment, but the context more of the story she thought she was being told. As Artje explains what she sees in her current outfit- and what she despaired to see in the rest- Jackie nods along, able to follow in context, if not from personal experience. "It must be frustrating, to have them still upheld as a pillar of fashion, considering what you shared. Is it a matter of resting on their laurels, or- no, you basically laid it out already, it's commercialization. There's more money in being predictable and-" She pauses. Clarifies. "-broadly inoffensive." Clearly, it's offending someone, after all.
The real surprise is the step back of Visigny- though the explanation makes perfect sense and she actually relaxes rather than tensing up. She's perfectly quiet while he explains what he thought he heard and what he needed- needs- to proceed, and nods firmly. "Very fair and proper. It's my mistake, in neglecting context. You'd think I'd have learned when you just explained about "inclined to say." I owe you an apology for not being a quicker student, Capitan." A sigh follows, but she continues. "I thank you for giving me a chance to explain, all the same. The context missing is that I am atrociously unsubtle when it comes to deliberate flirting, to the point that I avoid it thoroughly out of a tactical aversion to rejection. When it occurs, it is with those with whom I have already established layers of consent. Which, I know, is inimical to flirting's primary purpose in expressing interest in moving towards those deeper relationships in the first place. But the result remains that what was intended to playfully admit my own heavy hand when it comes to such things neglected vital context and left the onus on you to ascertain if I meant what I said, and I apologize for leaving such an uncomfortable burden to you. For clarity- I was not flirting; I was flattering, I think; and I am not in the practice nor approval of violating consent of any sort."
"I see," says the thing with a beast behind its eyes. And it does see, to its credit. There's no offense registering in his features from the response he received. He nods his head at places, and small micro-expressions in his eyes and jaw make it clear he knows how to keep that body seeming alive when he wants to.
"Then if I may, Miss? If you are interested in discovering if I am worthy of, if not that trust, then some other? I would like to offer you my card. And, if you are the sort, ask for your own. That I could call on you and help you to the better understanding of that question."
He fishes in his coat jacket and produces an large copperplate card. Maestre Jean-Louis Visigny-Winthrope Winthrope Academy of Arms and so on. It advertises his services as a tutor. It has his number and e-mail and so on.
"I am so taxed this evening, so forgive me for saying so. You are the most breathtaking creature I have laid eyes on since I have left Vienne. The most exquisite thing, face, or being. It has been like standing beside the sun sharing your company. How do I communicate that to you in a way you will accept?"
Artje will understand. She, of all the things in the night, gets him. (edited)
There is an art to being part or party of a conversation with other vampires, especially with Visigny, and it becomes something like a dance, or something like watching the ocean rise and fall, in watching Artje move forward and then sort of subside out of the conversation, like a tide rising and falling. She can easily shine so brightly in a moment, and then in a breath -- someone else's breath, tonight -- she seems to simply fade into the background. Last time Vorpal saw her, she was breathing, mind you, and pink, and tonight she looks like a china doll.
The irony is not lost on her and her subtle smile that she looks -- at the moment -- far less human than the elegant monster at her side. She does not seem to take offense at this compliment given to Jackie. Maybe she knows she exists in some other category altogether.
May he? Of course he may, and she inclines her head graciously on the spot to assure he is aware of such allowances. "I would be delighted to accept your card, and I offer you what would be on mine, if I had the wherewithal to carry any, as well. I'd be more than happy to recite the information to be copied or write it on a spare card of yours, or whatever else yields a comfortable exchange of contacts." She rubs at her chin a moment. "I really should just pony up and have some made, if I'm going to make a serious go at this inter-society go-between thing..." She seems to resolve that on her own with a nod, and an assurance. "And once I do, I'll ensure you receive one of the first, Capitan- and you as well, if you'd like, Frau Berenyi-Winthrope, if you would like your own?" She takes Visigny's card and offers her own contact information- which is really just two cell #s, one personal, and one she clarifies is for Business Matters.
The compliment is far and above beyond what Jackie was expecting. Her composure might hold and keep her expression to a doe-eyed flutter of her lashes, but for the verbose Torrent, it's telling all the same. "No no, no need to apologize at all, you did a wonderful job maintaining an even keel through even my own missteps. I might not ken the details, but I know the look of a button pressed, and had we but a few of those more this evening, we would stand a statistically decent chance of a fine start to Les Miserables, were the strokes but transposed to a keyboard." There's- a recognition to the calm certainty in Artje's reception of that extravagant compliment, and they can see the appreciative light in her eyes click on. Yes, this I recognize- the surety of The Ones Who Come First. Right, proper and respected. Bravo, you three.
"Well. I can begin by reassuring you that I am quite susceptible to compliments, and whatever you have to say will certainly be well received- but since you asked my preference of delivery, perhaps I could ask for a bit more detail? I know it isn't my social graces; I'm improving, but quite unrefined in practice; I'm not plain, but neither am I blessed with particular beauty like your beloved-" She pauses, and asks curiously. "Could you perhaps be referencing my artwork?"
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