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Atalo hasn't found himself pensive for a while, but he has thoughts and ideas to mull over now. So he's sat by the counter, reading a book that, going by the cover, offers advice and guidance on socialisation techniques. Is it a self help book?
Possibly.
His free hand is absently patting the head of the dog lying next to him, a labrador and alsation mix. Dressed in a brown suit, Atalo does somehow have the appearance of being dusty.
The door to the otherwise empty thrift store opens and a thin, pale figure steps inside. They're wearing a long coat over a baggy t-shirt and cargo pants, dark hair hanging limply around their face down past their chin. Their lower face is covered by a black cloth mask that hooks around their ears, which has a cartoonish teddy bear mouth printed on it.
Their droopy eyes take in the store's interior slowly, though their reaction is mostly hidden behind the mask. Though as they notice Atalo behind the counter their gaze flits over, going very still as their beast wars against his, briefly.
Atalo's head snaps up as he senses another Beast, the dog by him sitting up sharply as he registers his master's tension. A hand to his collar keeps him in place though, Atalo regarding Finley quietly as he draws his own Beast back under control, the book dropped on the counter.
After a moment of settling he tilts his head in a silent invite to the other Kindred.
Finley just... stares for a moment awkwardly, but then slowly lifts a hand in greeting. They step further into the shop, pausing to look at an item of clothing once or twice before stopping on the other side of the counter, a few feet back. Then they notice the dog, and their eyes brighten, just a hint. "Can I... pet your dog...?" they say, a notable lisp to their voice despite speaking slowly.
Atalo glances down at Cerberus. Cerberus looks back. There's a sort of grumbled exchange between them both and then the dog huffs, standing to pad over to Finley where he parks his rear back down and regards the other vampire with a stare.
"Apologies." Atalo notes with faint amusement. "He's stubborn and lazy. A good evening to you, I'm Atalo. Welcome to my store, such as it is."
They seem to have at least a basic understanding of animals, if the fact they don't immediately thrust out a hand is anything to go by. They crouch down a bit, offering out their palm slowly to be sniffed and appraised before stepping closer to pet the dog's head. Their eyes crease a little, which is maybe a sign of a smile behind the mask. "He's... pretty."
They pet a few moment more before straightening up, looking pleased. "Finley."
Cerberus does sniff, slightly, but he doesn't nuzzle the offered palm as most dogs might. Still, he accepts the pat with stoic grace. Atalo smiles with a nod. "You're the first person in a while to greet him. He'll learn to be more grateful for that." He spreads his hands. "Good to see another Kindred here. I don't think we've met before, mm?" He glances at the book, then back to Finley, his voice the manner of someone quoting. "How has your night been?"
They follow Atalo's gaze to the book, blinking at the cover a moment. Then back at him with a look of realization... and pity that he's stuck practicing socializing on them. Their head shakes to confirm they've never met before. "Good. Thank you..." Their hands stuff into their coat pockets, eyes flitting around the store awkwardly. "Nice clothes."
"Thank you." He answers, then huffs. "Small talk is something I'm getting better versed with. These clothes are often discarded so needlessly. I try to not let them go to waste though." Moving out from behind the counter he nods respectfully to Finley. "Atalo Ceres. Gangrel in the Circle of the Crone and member of the Washington Family. To offer who I really am, while other ears aren't around."
"Nosferatu... Ordo Dracul. Recently adopted by... Ashtifar." They peer up at him--at least assuming he is taller, anyway. "Talking... is... hard," they mutter sympathetically. "You are... doing okay."
He spreads his hands. "Enough to pass." A rueful sigh. "Not so much I don't fade in a conversation with a group of people. Cerberus keeps me company, at least. What brings you this way Finley? Were you looking for clothing?"
Finley looks down at the dog, nodding. "Good company. Animals are... nicer than people... sometimes." They glance back up at him, hands burying deeper into their pockets. "I like... old things..."
"Nothing here is that old. Except for me." A faint smile as he pats Cerberus. "You might enjoy exploring antique stores. Sometimes they have items a few hundred years old, at least. But, I might have some fairly.. hm.." He moves to the racks, starting to hunt through. "Clothes rarely last too long, but I might have some old coats."
Their eyes widen a little into an inquisitive expression. "How... old?" The mention of old coats has them looking around again, nodding quickly.
"Here." He finds a leather coat, albeit quite worn. "Fifteen years. So. Not terribly old, I'm aware."
Their sunken eyes crease with amusement. Their head shakes, and they point up to his face. But then they do pause to look at the coat, stepping closer to reach out and touch the leather gently.
"What?" The Gangrel asks a touch gruffly. He cants his head as Finley inspects the coat. "I can perhaps find something older, but, that's the best I have now."
They exhale a soft breath and look up at him again, brows knitting a little with a trace of frustration. "How old... are you?"
His mouth tics in amusement. "Not as old as some, but I outlasted the British Empire."
They blink slowly, looking caught off guard, at first. Then just... confused.
Atalo glances at Cerberus for help, then back to Finley. "Use words if you can. I don't understand."
Their shoulders slump a little glancing aside nervously. "If... you're so old... why are you working at a... thrift store...?"
"Ah." He nods. "This isn't all I do. I'm tied to charities. I help them, and I hunt those who abuse wealth and power." He touches a hand to his neck. "Artemis guides me." He intones a little formally. "But it's also because, I was born in a war Finley, and died in one. And I've fought in any number over the centuries." He offers a slight smile. "This, at least for a few decades, is me having something of a holiday."
Finley glances back up to listen to the explanation, though they still don't quite seem to know what to make of the... Elder? They appear a mixture of intimidated and curious, at least.
Though the last sentence makes them break out into soft muffled giggles, hand lifting to cup over the mask. "Holiday..."
Atalo's head cants. "And yourself?" He asks quietly. "How old are you?" A faint grin appears at Finley's giggling. "The afternoon off." He intones grandly.
Their giggling ends, replaced with a sheepish crease of their brows. "...Twenty-six..."
A nod to that. "So you want clothing from the years before your embrace? I will see if I can find you anything." A slight smile as he acknowledges this. "You have the advantage over me of growing up in a relatively modern society, though it does tend to change every year. Or so it feels at least."
"Total," they correct, looking even more embarrassed. "Embraced... a little over... a year ago." They regard him for a moment, then nods. "Things change fast."
"Ah." He nods slightly. "Then, you are even more familiar then I am. I might.. well, I may ask for your advice from time to time. If you're happy to give this?"
Their droopy eyes brighten and crease a little, nodding quickly in reply.
"Thank you." An acknowledgement. "Did you want to buy that coat?" He glances at the book lying on the counter again, brow creasing slightly. "This is an unusual question, but how do you go about a modern day courtship?"
They look back to the coat and briefly check the price tag, then bob their head, taking it off the hanger. Though his question makes them stop and stare for a moment, looking uncertain. "Ummm... With... who...?"
"I would prefer to not say." Atalo admits quietly. "I simply hoped there might be, hm, general advice you could offer." Cerberus looks up briefly, then decides it's best to focus on dozing.
Finley looks immediately relieved, shoulders untensing. They look thoughtful for a long moment, looking upwards, then back to him. "Invite them... on a date. If they are... mortal... to get coffee or dinner. If they are Kindred... Um... Find something... else they would like to do...?"
"Not Kindred, no." Atalo confirms, then nods. "Thank you. I'll try that. And see what the end result is." He checks the price tag on the coat, then moves to the counter to ring it up on the till. "You should be aware, there's another group in the city. Not Kindred or mortal. Something other. I do hope to talk to the Sakima about this when possible, as one of them claimed to have met her."
Finley follows him over to the counter, fishing out a wallet to pay with a debit card. Their brows crease. "Other... how...?"
"That, I do not know. They didn't say and I don't know enough yet to trust their words. Another reason I intend to seek audience with the Sakima."
Finley nods, still looking a little worried. "Will be... careful. Thank you..." They offer out the card to pay.
"I'll let you know what I learn." He nods, taking the offered card and ringing up the purchase before bagging the coat for Finley. "Did you have anything else you might like to discuss?"
Finley considers that a moment, then shakes their head. They do pull a phone from their pocket though to lift. "Number?"
"Yes." The Gangrel answers, producing a phone that should have been replaced 5 years ago and reading off his own number.
They tap-tap-tap quickly at the screen, saving the number. Then they send the old Gangrel a text that reads: :wave: :mask:
He looks at the text. Looks at Finley and, after a moment, taps two keys to answer. :slight_smile:
(Are you okay for wrapping here? I've gotta head to work pretty soon :frowning: )
They giggle, clearly delighted and amused by the reply. They tuck the phone back into their pocket and accept the bag. Excusing themself with a simple wave.
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