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10:13 PM. The guards had reported someone loitering outside Simon's home. Again. Third time this week, and yet somehow, these incompetent security folks couldn't seem to lock him down to question him. He never was quite on camera, but they kept claiming to see him. Never a good look though.
But tonight? Tonight there's a well-dressed Kindred in his sweater and slacks, setting down a bouquet made of hyacinth, daffodil, and tiger lily as a violent splash of color against the gate in a clear vase. He stays a moment, lingering and adjusting the heights of the flowers as if he had all the time in the world.
It's a very nice house. Probably dates back to Victorian, but of course has been expertly renovated and maintained to have all the modern amenities. You can barely make out the house from the front gate, set back as it is on some nicely maintained grounds. Still, a very lovely three story home, the outer walls laid with gray stone: https://www.phillymag.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2016/08/209-W-Chestnut-Hill-Ave-exterior.jpg
A guard is likely stepping up to the gate. Jasper going to try to talk to them, avoid them, just wait?
"For the master of the house," says Jasper with the disaffected attitude of a delivery driver - at odds with those who've spied him lurking about before. "I'd suggest you take them to somewhere slightly more insulated before they wilt."
Yeah, the guards aren't into this--especially since Jasper has been stalking the place. "You're going to have to leave the premises, sir, or we're going to call the police."
There is a very simple line on the elder's face that could be construed as a smile if one was unfamiliar with the concept. "Do as you wish in that regard, though I suspect Simon may not be pleased. If you want to curry favor, you'll want to deliver this, fresh, in a timely fashion. Though that's for you to puzzle through. Are you taking them, or am I leaving them here?"
The guard shakes his head, his already thin patience worn down from Jasper's antics over the past few nights. "I curry favor by doing my job." He pulls out a phone from his pocket. "Callin' the cops."
If he was bothered, it didn't show. The vase was set down in front of the gate, adjusted just so before a picture taken via camera. Then the elder strolled away without a backward glance.
The guard watches him go with a glare. But eventually the gate is opened and the flowers collected. Cops still called to put in a report about suspicious activity though. But you know, he didn't actually break in, so nothing really to be done.
It's the issue of loitering, isn't it? The endless frustration of security personnel who have to always gauge what they can get away with, what's legal, slow police response times (averaged at about 25 minutes for nonpriority calls in Philadelphia based on a study by Guardian Security Systems), and those who know how to skirt just around such things.
On the plus side, flowers are pretty. Yay!
Whats Jasper's plan here? Gonna wait and see if Simon reaches out?
That is the plan! And should it not happen, he'll give it time like building a complex stew.
Those are a very, very pretty set of flowers. Very carefully -actually, they probably weren't carefully arranged anymore after being picked up by the guard. Maybe the help ruined the meaning? Why yes, it's probably their fault, Simon. It's not that you don't know something. Someone else is to blame!
...This is true. Always blame the staff. >:T
Several hours later, Jasper's phone rings.
"Who's calling this time of the morning?" asks the voice that didn't sound at all tired.
Boy is that a Simon! A very angry sounding Simon who immediately jumps into a rant!
"I don't know what the hell you think you're playing at, but I don't find you stalking my home to be remotely romantic. This infatuation is growing tiring. I have no time for stray dogs in heat roaming outside my front door begging for me to throw them a bone. Nor do I appreciate your blatant disrespect to my security and the sanctity of my home. If I find out you have been loitering around and harassing my guards again, you will find I have truly reached the end of my gracious patience, and I will reap every Doom upon you in every language I have the ability to utter."
"My, my. How many tongues is that?" asks the Mekhet. "I offered no disrespect to your security. I remained off the property, and while I came to call, it took some time to feel I had the proper gift."
"You do not have the privilege of calling upon me," Simon replies in a low, dangerous tone. "You seem to have greatly overestimated the nature of our agreement."
"There is little in the way of an agreement, but I imagined that you would care to learn more. If you prefer a different dynamic, then please, speak."
"Let me make this clear: If you even come within sight of my home again without my expressed permission beforehand, I will ruin you. And you will never see me again. Do you understand?"
"I hear your threat," says the bored Mekhet.
"Tell me you understand, Jasper."
"I don't. Not fully. Though you'll only respond with vitriol to such an answer given your general hatred of others not being brought to heel unquestioningly."
"Yes," Simon replies, unashamed. "I am quite cross when people do not do as they are told."
"Unfortunately, that is not the dynamic you will be able to have here. I am not yours to control."
"Asking that I not come to your home, if it were a request, would be respected. An order only makes one want to push back against it."
"This is nonnegotiable," he replies icily. "You will agree to this, or we are done."
"You're correct. It's not a negotiation. You've voiced your discomfort and threatened me rather than speak to one like a person. When you have calmed yourself, you may call me. Until then, consider this discussion tabled." And with that, Jasper hangs up.
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