Game: Mind's Eye Theater - Vampire: The Requiem
Chronicle: Mind's Eye Society - Shadowed Peaks (Colorado Springs)
Venue: A Sinister Legacy (Colorado Springs VtR)
Character: Christopher "\/00|>00" Langer & Mary Jane
Written by Jerad Sayler & Raen Schadden
Written by Jerad Sayler & Raen Schadden
1 December 2009, 11:00pm "Evening Interlude"
Cascade and Colorado, in downtown Colorado Springs. It's dark, but street lamps are plentiful. Sound filters into the street from the not so far off hub of clubs that pepper the area, though there are restaurants that fill the gaps between them but those are mostly closed now. The streets serve as something of a border, hemming in one of the downtown racks, where the prey tends to run thicker than in other places. Here, though, when they walk by in the cold, in trickling numbers heading for their cars, or waving down a cab. The area is reasonably open. Reasonably safe. Even by Kindred standards.
A little before eleven, a lone figure becomes noticeable amongst the many coming and going. She's dressed in loose jeans and the heavy leather coat Langer saw her in last, hideous white and black hounds tooth fedora sitting cockeyed on her head, chains swinging rhythmically at her hip with a quiet ching-ching-ching that accompanies her walk. Both of her hands are jammed into her pockets, her shoulders hunched as if to protect herself against the cold. Combined with the smoke from the cigarette she occasionally pulls a starkly white hand from her pocket to handle, she looks passably human. And feels it as well. No Beast radiating here... just like the last time he saw her.
No one looks at her strangely. No one bats an eye. The drunk keep walking, all apparently equally happy to leave the small punk alone as she finds the corner of a building to lean against, neither glaringly obvious nor out of sight.
As she waits, her eyes pass over the walking prey, her expression evenly neutral, though her posture relays a subtle intensity that's hard to put a finger on. She picks her right foot up off the ground and braces it against the brick. Slowly, it begins to tap rhythmically there. It’s like sitting still just isn't natural for her.
Under a nearby streetlight, on its dark side, a figure is just suddenly there. Maybe just a trick of the light or lack of attention on the part of the kine, walking briskly through the night air, but all of a sudden people notice a short, hooded figure leaning casually against the cold metal as if he budded from it.
He’s not hiding his nature tonight, he is relishing in it for some reason. People start avoiding his side of the street and dart more hurriedly out of sight. A glint of smirking teeth under the shadows of the thick hood and no trail of steam issues from it. He seems less timid then at the last court. He is in his element. The lone predator spying on the swaying figure, earning her namesake.
If she had noticed him immediately, she hadn’t given any sign. She continues watching the pacing humans with that neutral expression. When he approached she finishes one cigarette, drops the butt to the ground, and grinds it out with a peculiar specifies. Fiddling inside her coat for a moment, she pulls out a whole pack of them, taps it several times against her wrist, then teases the next cigarette out with her lips.
For a vampire particularly susceptible to fire, like Langer, the next several moments are particularly fascinating... as she exchanges the pack for a lighter, and carefully... slowly... meticulously... sparks the striker into a tiny flame and draws it close enough to the cancer stick to light the tobacco within. An inscrutable smile hints at the corner of her lips while she enjoys the first few drags... and waits.
In the end, some sort of concealed impatience or excitement wins out and he walks toward her. The sound of the black Harley Davidson boots clicking on concrete seems the only sound between gusts of frigid wind. He glances slowly side to side as if he is expecting something to happen as he approaches. Close enough for low voices he addresses Mary.
She looks up at the clicking. Her smile transforms into a welcoming grin... no fangs visible at this point... and exhales a thick plume of smoke into the air. The grin quirks to a lopsided one as she notices his cautious glances.
“Good evening Reverend, so good of you to come.” He smiles guardedly, the face of a dead 19-year-old. “Thank you again for all your help, please, show me your city…”
She nods. "Good to see you again, Chris," she answers, shoving herself away from the building side. "We've got a lot of ground to cover tonight. Domains, racks... places where you can stay, places where you'd damned well better ask permission first. Much as I'd like to do it all on foot, that would look really strange to the breathers, and we'd prefer not to have that... so, if you'll follow me..." She turns herself north on Cascade, heading back in the direction she'd first appeared from, and begins to walk with a muted swagger while keeping him more or less at her side and within sight.
As she walks, she starts speaking again. "Caution's good. It’s definitely your friend. Tonight, I'm gonna ask you to trust me as far as letting me ride you around in a car." She gives him a sideways glance, and that lopsided grin again. "No intentions that'll get you hurt. If you've been reading the book I gave you, you'll understand that's not in my interests." Without much pause, she takes up another breath and motions to her right, into the bar district they're walking by. "I'm sure you know this area by now... open territory... they just don't want you calling the space right in it home. It makes some of the older ones snarly."
Langer walks purposefully alongside the shorter kindred, hands folded and head bowed slightly to conceal his expression. He takes in her words and studies the places she indicated as if he intends to commit them permanently to memory. At a loss for words.
The look she offers him next is a serious one. "Remember to be careful in there. Lots of onlookers, dozens of ways to fuck something up. If there's one thing I've learned of any alpha wolf that applies to our's in particular, it’s that screwing with rule number one will get you into significant trouble in no time."
“Yes, I’ve already fed near here as the Prince directed… I really hate all the social interaction needed to score a good clean meal around here. I prefer something I’m more comfortable with....” He trails off.
She looks back onto the street ahead of her, grinning again, the expression longer and somehow less genial. "We can talk on the nature of the subtle monster more on Friday if you want."
Three blocks up, she takes a right onto a street dotted with closed restaurants, and swaggers up to a car; a pale blue mustang, mid-70s, that looks like it’s in the process of being returned to factory condition.
A single key ring with two keys on it appears in her hands shortly, and she motions him to the other side of the car.
“Nice Ride.” He stands away from it for a little while, looking around again before approaching.
Unlocking the door, she interjects, "Not my ride. Just on loan for the night."
“I have read about half of the Testament and I think I am finally starting to see a different way to look at this condition.” He looks up so his shy boyish face was illuminated by the light, determined. “I trust you, Mary Jane, your motives seem straightforward enough, and you have a reputation for not following the usual rules, you make your own as long as they fall within a moral code.” He shakes his head. “A monster with true faith in something more than this…” He looks down at his gloved hands with something like grim revulsion.
After opening the car door, she stands upright again, crossing her arms on the roof where she rests her light weight to listen. She finishes her cigarette listening to him unload, her expression attentive.
He takes a beat and starts up again. “You have what I want, a fucking reason… but we can talk about this later. I know you’re not going to hurt me, and if you try you’re in for some nasty surprises. Orcus never even caught a whiff of me the whole time I was watching all of you and biding my time. Trust me, I’m not arrogant, I know I’m fucked and that’s why I came out of hiding in the first place… I’m rambling again.” He stutters and loses his composure, face frowning with awkwardness.
Only the flicker of a grin crosses her lips when he tells her about how tough a bastard he is, then she slides down into the driver's seat and pulls the door shut behind her.
Tight-lipped, Langer opens the passenger side door and climbs in watching her expectantly, more relaxed. The decision is made, words were vented, he relaxes into the seat.
"You know," Mary begins as she slips the key into the ignition, "I ran like hell from the first lick that offered me hope. Scared the fucking shit out of me."
The engine rumbles to life at that moment, the radio flaring to life to the sounds of a younger Henry Rollins screaming into the microphone while Black Flag plays behind him. She quirks and apologetic grin at him as she reaches quickly for the volume.
"I don't really make my own rules, though," she continues. "I live by the ones that we have in place." Glancing in the rear view, she throws the gear into reverse and begins to back up. "I just exist in what I am, with my faith. Sure... prestation is a part of our world. To a certain extent, owing another lick a debt is a way to make sure you keep kickin'."
She breaks softly and moves the car into first. "But... that same Damned who scared the fuck out of me...? In the end, he told me the same things I've been telling you." She grins slightly, giving him a sideways glance. "Just, sounded like him, not me."
A stop light not more than thirty feet ahead makes her wait several moments before turning onto Cascade Street again. With the car idling, the changes subjects... or continues on in tangents she was heading toward.
"Don't worry about being tough, Chris. Gotta lotta young licks out there who resort to that. It’s the natural inclination of your new nature to try to force your way up to the top. But if you can pull that impulse back and just remember to be young for a while, you'll do yourself a service. You are young. And some of those old licks will kick your ass. Trust me... I know... I've been on the receiving end of more than a couple ass kickings myself. Until I learned to be respectful..." she lifts a hand from the steering wheel to emphasize, "mind you, that ain't the same as being prim and proper..." and lowers it to the stick again as the light goes green, "and my world got a whole lot easier at that point."
Turning onto Cascade, heading south again, she adds, "Beast is always more settled when its knows its place, but it can't know its place unless you do. Which is, of course, part of why you're here."
2 December 2009
She spent the rest of the evening showing me around town. A lot of it was information I had already gathered from court and my own observations up to that point. But the socialization was something I craved and it was a great gesture on her part. We also set up a meeting with Brother Maddox, the Bishop and Sheriff of Colorado Springs, for Thursday to talk about my temporary Sanctified status…
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