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Guy rolls into the parking of the city park, shutting off his bike and pulling off his helmet. He glances up at the night sky, then looks around for the person he’s supposed to meet.
The person in question is currently hanging upside down from a low branch of a tree, knees hooked over the branch, arms hanging down. Like you do, when you're waiting for a Gangrel and you have some extra energy. She's in jeans and a peasant blouse tonight (the latter tucked into the former to keep it out of her face while she hangs out), her shoes abandoned at the base of the tree, and when she hears the motorcycle pull up and stop, she waves.
Guy walks over, approaching to conversational distance with the upside down vampire in the tree. He’s wearing his usual getup. “How are you tonight, Phaedra, besides feeling batty?”
"There's some people who'd say I'm always batty. I think an artist friend of mine totally once drew me as a bat once." She laughs. "I'm good, though. Did some good work with one of your clanmates last night."
He nods. “That’s good. Who was it, if I may ask?”
"Cian Doyle. He's fairly new in town, out of Boston lately--have you met him?" She tilts her head to one side slightly, her hair dangling like a curtain. "We got a spirit of mayhem to leave Fairmount Park."
“I haven’t, I’ll do that when I have the chance. It’s good to meet extended family. A spirit, huh? I’m sure that was interesting.”
"It was manifested and making a complete mess. I sent it away to a place that deserves it." She smiles. "If I drop off the branch, would you catch me?"
“Sure,” he says with a nod, lifting his arms. “Ready when you are.”
And she counts down before dropping. "Three...two...one." And then she lets go, trusting him complete, trusting he has her.
He lifts his hands to meet her early, and squats to absorb the energy of her fall before standing and and depositing her on her feet in one smooth motion. It seems to have taken as much effort as catching a bag of flour. “There we are,” he says as he lets her go without drawing attention to it. “Any exciting plans besides checking out my bike?”
"Not really. It's an excuse to check in and see how you've been as much as checking out the bike. You've been busy and we haven't talked much and you're okay and I like talking to you." She looks up with an innocent smile. "Sometimes it seems like I make better friends with your clan than my own. Atalo, Cian, you...besides Clara and other Mekhet in my family, I'm not sure I really know that many others like me."
“Hmm. Maybe it’s because we both think about things in ways others do not.” He shrugs. “I went on the rat extermination, if you heard about that. I’ve been well...I’m moving in with Petra, that’s really my only exciting news.” He taps his chin. “Had Ordo things to do, but it’s all internal stuff.”
"I'm glad the rat stuff went well. I know Finley was involved with that, but my cards made it clear there'd only be a disaster if I tried to involve myself directly. So for me it's mostly been work and nosing about like I do."
He nods, thinking for a moment. “Sounds fun, honestly. Would you do a reading for me sometime? I’d like that. Doesn’t have to be tonight, of course.” He glances to his bike. “Wanna take a look at it?”
"I want to do more than look at it. I want to Auspex it, if you're not against it. Sledge let me Auspex hers and I really want to be able to compare--if it's okay?" She pretty much skips over to the bike, grinning broadly.
“Oh, of course. I haven’t done anything...bad with it. Feel free.” He follows at a more sedate pace, unable to keep a small grin off his face.
Phaedra wiggles her fingers as if trying to decide where to touch the bike to get the best read, before her fingertips brush the headlight and she leans in to gently kiss one of the handlebars, giving the bike the same treatment a Horse Girl™️ might give to a beautiful unicorn.
He chuckles softly. “I bet Sledge loves how...caring you are to her work.” The bike itself is massive and apparently armored, a beefy roadster that’s been rebuilt into a monster.
"I'm not sure Sledge notices tenderness. She's used to big and loud and fast and doesn't seem to pay attention, always, to things that aren't that." The comment is quiet and a little wistful.
He tilts his head. “She’s probably afraid of the quiet, not that she’d ever admit it. She notices, I promise, but will only acknowledge it for a moment here and there. She probably needs time to...acclimate to you, too.”
There's a thoughtful pause, and then she looks up at Guy. "What does acclimate mean? I can kind of get the idea from context, but I'd like a solid definition."
“Hmm? Oh, um...shit...get used to, I think? It’s one of those words I only know by context. My English knowledge is...a mess.”
"Ah. So's mine. If a word wasn't in the Bible, I never read it before I got Embraced." She shakes her head, looking almost worried. "Am I really something that needs getting used to?"
“No, I’m saying...she has a painful past, and I think the noise is about drowning it. You’re new, and new is threatening to people with....Trauma? Is it the same word? Any way, it’s not you. Sledge just requires some patience. Or...understanding.”
"...oh." That's soft and very deeply understanding. "Then...okay. I'll wait. For when she's ready to see me."
“Which see? Because I know she already likes spending time around you.”
"She does?" This comes with an air of surprise. "I thought she was always just humoring me."
“Yeah, when she talked about the time you went riding with her, she said you were...rad?” He stares at the bike for a moment. “Fun, she said she had fun.”
A slow smile blooms on her face. "Well, good. Maybe I can convince her to do it again. And you, too. I want to ride on your bike, if you'll let me ride with you."
“I’m sure she’d ride with you again.” He pauses, apparently thinking again. “And yes, we can ride. Would you like to now?”
She nods. "Please? I even wore pants instead of a dress so I can be dignified while I do so."
He snorts. “Dignity only matters when you’re trying to fit in somewhere...” He opens the compartment under the seat, and pulls out his helmet. “Luckily, my spare is sized for Petra, so it should fit well with just an adjustment of the chin strap.” He hands her the helmet with a small smile.
She puts the helmet on and does adjust it to fit, taking the safety thing seriously. "I mean. Sometimes having it means you get to shock people when you toss it off to one side and get serious about things."
“Oh, right, dramatics...I guess I usually go for tossing aside my guise of humanity,” he says with a grin, moving to sit on the bike. It has a proper, if smaller, second seat behind his.
She sits behind him, laughing. "I tend to...what's the phrase? 'Read people for filth'. I take a certain pride in being able to rip people to shreds with my words. No one expects it, when they first meet me."
“That’s a good skill. I’m...not good at reading people.” He starts the bike. “I’m stuck ripping to shreds the old fashioned way. It’s been nice, how quiet it is here, if a little unbalancing.”
"Should I hold onto you? And yeah...a lot of people from other places, they talk about it. I've only ever been here. I never-ever-ever want to leave."
“Yeah, wrap your arms around me; doesn’t have to be super tight, though. Lean with me on turns, you’ll feel how far through how my body pulls your arms.” He walks the bike back out of the parking spot, then rolls forward. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to leave...now, shall we go fast for a bit?”
Her grip is more solid than one might expect from her small flame--does the tiny Mekhet have some Vigor? Perhaps just a tiny bit. "Yes. Let's go fast, Guy. Please."
He takes her to a quiet highway on the edge of the city, and kills the headlight before accelerating to full speed. His bike isn’t nearly as fast as Sledge’s, but it rides like a dream, flying over the moonlight blacktop steady and stable.
And she seems enamored with the experience, taking in all the sights, leaning when Guy leans. She doesn't speak, busy enjoying the experience.
He drives them around like that for about an hour, then heads back into the city, following traffic laws again. “How was it?” he asks when they stop at their first light back in town.
"It was amazing! The night felt so alive, you could hear the crickets and the cicadas and the rush of the wind and everything was...it almost felt realer than most nights are." She squeezes a little tighter, a grateful hug.
He chuckles softly. “I’m glad you liked it. Would you like to go back to the park and chat a bit?”
"Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Always nice when you old farts have the time to talk to us young'ns. It makes it feel like you're not above us or anything. Just more experienced."
He laughs and pulls away, driving them back to the park and parking his bike. “See, you know I’m a true old fart because I like to talk to you young folk.”
"Is that the tell? Mmm, I'll need to remember that if I somehow manage to make it that long." Phaedra climbs off the back of the bike, but her fingertips brush along the line of the seat.
"Thank you." That's clearly said to the motorcycle this time, not Guy.
He stands and stows his helmet, holding his hand to take the one she’s wearing. “Yeah, I’m not good at stories, per say, but...I have a lot to talk about...”
She passes off the helmet. "You don't have to be good at stories. The stories are good themselves!"
“Heh. I heard something like that a long time ago. Let’s see, in English, roughly...”Tales are in the tale, not the telling. But entertainment is an art.” Or something like that.” He stretches a little after he closes the compartment.
She tilts her head at, thinking about that for a moment. "It's not much of an art I have, either, so...however you can tell it is going to be good enough."
“Ok.” He walks to a nice spot of grass, and sits. “What should I go on about, then?”
She moves to sit beside him. Close enough to touch, but not doing so yet. Comfortable up close. You'd think his aura of 'I'm A Fucking Badass' wasn't having any effect on her. She's scarier.
"Tell me a story about...a mistake you made when you were a neonate."
“Hmm...oh, I made so many...is there a particular kind you have in mind?” He chuckles softly, laying back in the grass looking up at her.
"Any. I just...I want to see who you were, when you were 'my age'. If that's okay, to want to compare." And there's a thoughtful pause. "Also, can I lay down and use you as a pillow?"
He blinks. “I suppose that’d be fine.” He thinks for a moment. “Ok. I can tell you about when I was newly turned, and...mistakes...”
And she places her head against his chest and lays herself out pretty much perpendicular to him, listening, turning her head to watch his face with those all-seeing eyes.
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “When I was embraced, my sire was already an old Kindred. I’m...not sure how much. I think she wanted a pet, a companion, someone to remind her of what being young was. She bound me to her completely, she was my goddess, my lover...and then, a little while later, she bound herself to me. Looking back, I think she was tired of feeling nothing, and decided that I was...worth the trouble.”
"That's...perversion, to mutually bond like that. Oh no, what happened after that?" There's a clear look of horror in her eyes at that idea.
“We roamed Germany and France and Switzerland, killing and fucking and doing anything else we thought would amuse the other. We’d have bouts of near lucidity, after fights or food limits forced us to torpor, but we’d always reforge the bond...it wasn’t good, or healthy, but we couldn’t help but love it. I’m not proud of what I was...”
She nods quietly. "Your sire didn't teach you better. She wasn't a good sire--and you deserved better."
“Teach me better than what? I learned what was going on a decade or two later, but...I didn’t want it to stop. Feeling that way, having it be reciprocated...it’s addictive...”
"Addictive. Yes, but it's also horrible." She pouts slightly. "How did it end?"
“She died, and I fell into torpor. Woke up less than a year ago. That was a shock. She was gone, and I missed a good century and a half...”
She reaches out, brushes her fingertips against Guy's arm. "My sire's dead, too. I miss her every night."
“I...I know it’s because I spent so long under the bond, but...I can’t shake the feeling she’s just going to...walk up to me while I’m sitting in a bar some night.” He sighs. “And there are several people who remind me of her, in certain ways. I was terrified, when I started dating Petra, that my feelings were a lie. I didn’t let myself get too close to Sledge, when I first met her. There are times when I’m talking to you that if my heart still beat, I think it would freeze for a moment.”
"I don't mean to make you feel that way. Is...is there anything in particular that I do, that I can avoid, to make it easier for you?" Her voice is low, and sounds sincerely apologetic.
“No, it’s not your fault, and it’s nothing you consciously do. She was small, and petite, and blonde, and sometimes you move a certain way or say something the way she would, and memories of her flood my head. It’s ok, I promise. Being with Petra has helped a lot...real love and affection has softened the ache of the missing bond...besides, you’re sweet, and kind, in a way she certainly never was. Don’t worry about being like her.”
"I'd offer to dye my hair, but I like being a blonde." She lets out a tiny laugh. "Was your sire part of the Ordo Dracul, too?"
“Not when we met; we joined together. We’d become a thorn in the side of too many Kindred, so we travelled to a new city and joined the Ordo. Their philosophy appealed to us, and it gave us an opportunity to fight with a purpose, in a way more accepted by Kindred society.”
"With a purpose." She repeats those words quietly, thoughtfully. "And you stick to that same purpose to this day?"
“In many ways. I’m still bound by the oaths I swore then...I protect my fellow Dragons and our secrets...fight for those who cannot...” He closes his eyes. “I’ve taken it more to heart since my reawakening...”
"Well. I'm not a Dragon, sorry. But I do feel safe when I'm around you. Like there's no one who could hurt me. And like you wouldn't either."
He opens his eyes, looking into hers. “I’m flattered, Phaedra. But I’m glad you feel safe around me. I’ve been...you’re one of the young Kindred I’ve met in the city that I’ve wanted to look after. Not because I don’t think you’re capable or anything. I’m not really sure why, honestly...”
"You want to look after me?" She lets out a small laugh. "But what if I'm going into trouble? What if I plan to do strange and great and potentially reckless things?"
“I’d warn you about being reckless, but the rest doesn’t necessarily worry me overly much.” He grins. “Being immortal is a waste if you don’t experience the strange and great...”
"...noted." She laughs. "Well, I'm trying to, along the way. Spirits, the fishcourse, talking to changelings and other strange people."
“All good things. Changelings and Wonder-workers and stranger things still. Don’t pass up mundane things too. Getting drunk, eating new food, seeing the city from odd angles and places. It’s all...experience.”
"I still don't like throwing up. But I have drained a couple of chickens dry, can compare them to human blood. And helped the person who they belonged to make the soup from the carcasses. She's a mage, so it was okay."
He nods. “That sounds nice...Phaedra, would you be interested in learning to ride a motorcycle yourself?”
She thinks about that for a moment. "I don't know how easily I could afford a bike of my own. But I would love to learn."
“I’m sure there are plenty around who might help with getting a bike. But outside that, I’d be happy to teach you. I bet Sledge would enjoy teaching you as well.”
"We could go riding together sometime, then." She grins. "That'd be really, really fun. And save me a lot of walking in the woods, too."
“Yeah, we could go riding,” he says with a smile. “And you could help me convince Finley to learn to ride, too. Sledge still intimidates them a bit, but I think they’d really like riding, they just need some encouragement and support.”
She sits up and looks down at Guy. "You're building a thing."
“Yeah,” he says plainly. “Don’t worry, it’s not a political thing. I was hoping things would be further along before I gave the pitch, but you’re too perceptive for me to hide it. I’m hoping you and Finley and Rena will join my Pack, with Sledge.”
Her eyes widen, and a smile crosses her face. "If Finley joins, I will, too. I think we're a package deal at this point."
“Yeah? That’s great. Congratulations to you two on...having something strong, whatever it is for the two of you.” He smiles back. “A Pack makes its members stronger together; I want mine to be something that supports and empowers its members. I don’t want it to replace anyone’s Covenant or Family, just...be its own support group kind of thing. And we can have adventures together.”
"I'm up for more adventures." She grins. "Can I ask one more favor from you tonight?"
“Yes, you may,” he says with a nod.
"Can you take me home and save me all the walking?"
“Sure thing,” he says with little smile.
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