Logs:Neighborly Sharks

From NOLA: The Game that Care Forgot
Jump to: navigation, search


Neighborly Sharks


Characters: Jules and Remi de l'Aguille
Date: 2020-02-26
Summary: Jules finds there's a shark in his reef this evening.
Disclaimers: {{{disclaimers}}}

He dresses better than Miles. Miles will insist this is not the case, and yet, here, strolling down the sidewalk comes a man in a fedora and a perfectly tailored, three piece charcoal suit, whose lines have just enough to them to say 'vintage' while maintaining a subtle elegance. Doubtless, the Changeling on his porch will notice the subtle feel of smothering velvet, a suffocating crush of the Beast, veiled by the Man with his flushed cheeks and smooth smile, and he may even do so from a distance that would allow the smallest chance of retreat... except, surely, he in turn has been noted.

The vampire's whistled tune, La Vie En Rose, as it happens, has a note that elongates in a way that doesn't quite match the rhythm of the song before he's continuing on with both the song and the stroll. As he draws up even with the front of the Winter Monarch's home, he stops and angles himself toward the porch, before lifting his hand to take two fingers to the brim of his hat and lift up his fingers in casual greeting.

--

Meanwhile, Jules--well, Jules has spent a day of milder weather working on one of the last significant projects on this house. One whole side of the house has a fresh coat of paint on it, and there's not really a shortage of paint on his shirt or his jeans, either, but he is now rewarding himself with a cigarette and a beer as the evening grows long. Maybe his guard is let down further than it should be, because of that; he doesn't initially rouse himself out of his chair for the approach of the stranger, even if he does regard the man--the vampire--with wary eyes. The crown, right now, absent unless one were really looking for the shimmer where it should be. He returns the greeting with a slight raise of the hand holding his cigarette before he brings it back to his mouth. A long drag before he actually inquires, "There something I can help you with, or you just passing by?"

--

"Good evening," Remi greets the man, blue eyes slightly hooded as he regards the Changeling with no small amount of interest in his handsome face. There's a beat while the well-dressed man considers his response. "Both, in point of fact." He arches a single elegant brow at the Lost, with something like the beginning of an amused smile playing around his lips, "Are you opposed to speaking with me?" There are at least manners, even if something about the way he speaks hinting at a subtle antiquated or perhaps just foreign origin, despite the fact that the accent appears to be almost too flawlessly American.

--

"Not at all, as long as you're not here to make some kind of trouble. Not saying you are," a slight wave of the hand as though to dismiss an objection that hasn't yet arisen, "just saying that's where my priorities are. And, I guess, long as you can tolerate my being a mess like this. None of the paint on the porch's wet, if that's any consolation." This could pass for an invitation to join him there, though that's about as far as his hospitality is going at this stage.

--

The hands that comes up are as elegant as the rest of the Serpent standing before the Winter. "Oh, I leave the trouble making to others, my friend." Look, just like that they're friends! Check out that winning smile. Remi does move toward the porch, mounting the few stairs(?) and lingering just at the top of them. "I have great respect for a man who works with his hands," he adds once he's there, taking a closer look at the Changeling. "I must say you're the friendliest of your kind I've met here since arriving." Isn't it funny that that's true?

--

"Am I? Guess that's to be expected. Not entirely on your account, though you're... bound to be unsettling." To some people more than others, particularly in closer proximity, but Jules avoids giving this man more than a cursory glancing-over by getting back to his cigarette. "Can't take it personally. I'm inclined to be pragmatic about the whole thing, these days. Better the devil you know, I figure, at least around here. Jules Landry. And you are?" Friendlier, but he isn't offering a hand.

--

"Oh, I stopped taking much of anything personally decades ago. People, in all their variations," which seems to include the Lost in the Kindred's book, "will be people, after all. I am only that which my life has made me." There's a flicker of humor at the employment of the word life, for surely they both know what he really means. Probably some seek out the Embrace, but perhaps not this man? "Rémi de l'Aguille." His name is where his accent shares his knowledge of a language besides the one they're using now. He will offer his hand, taking the few steps toward the man, sitting and smoking, needed in order to lean and offer that warm, entirely lifelike hand. "A pleasure, Mr. Landry." Jules can have that much whether he accepts the handshake or not. "Have you been meeting many devils to know?"

--

Well, now that the hand is being offered, Jules does hesitate, but he props his cigarette momentarily in the ashtray beside his chair, stands up enough to take it. Usually his handshakes are overly careful, but apparently a vampire is solid enough to get the full strength of his hand. "Local, originally? I don't think I've ever met a de l'Aguille. Don't know if I'd say many, but enough. It's the sort of town that attracts... interesting people, I guess."

Perhaps different vampires have different strengths or maybe some just play to their echo of humanity more than others because the Daeva is exhaling audibly and giving his hand a work over by the opposite. At least all vampires are the same in their ability to heal? "You have quite the grip," need hardly be observed, but Remi does anyway. "No. There are no de l'Aguilles locally." In point of fact, his name is a strange one. "I'm not from here, but have visited before, though many years ago now. I was here long enough to familiarize myself with all the necessary forms and put my name to the line." The Accords, he means. "Your kind weren't here then." There's an invitation there, but no coercion. He does ask, "I take it none of my regularly prowl these particular parts of the city?" His gesture encompasses the street, the neighborhood perhaps.

--

"No, we've only been back a few months now." This much is known publicly, so this much Jules can disclose comfortably enough, but further details don't follow. "I don't keep up with your lot to that level of detail, I admit. Do I know of anybody who's been hanging around this part of Milan? No." He settles back into his chair now, indicates with a nod the other chair next to his on the porch, though he won't insist on Remi sitting. "But I don't know that everybody would care to stop by and make introductions if they were. This is a nice area. Quiet. Be pleased if it stayed that way."

--

Even if Jules won't insist, Remi will take him up on the tacit invitation. He settles himself with a graceful movement that doesn't quite fit with how very at home he seems once he's in that seat. Perhaps he's just good at looking at his ease. He certainly doesn't seem to exhibit any outward sign that he's feeling ill-at-ease conversing with the Winter on his turf. "That is curious," Remi observes without any sense of it being leading, his own expression turning briefly introspective. "Is it known why that is the case?" The phrasing is carefully done so as not to delve into what might be private information.

"It is interesting that you seem to think this being a nice area and quiet might be changed by my presence, Mr. Landry. If you live in the ocean, your reef may seem lovely, but do you not see the sharks have been here all along in times of peace and war? We do not simply appear out of the woodwork with the host of hell at our heels as some movies might lead one to believe." There's some amusement for that. "I, perhaps most of all, am of little consequence to the shift of the landscape," says the charmingly smiling shark.

--

"It seems to be complicated," says Jules, which is what he would say if it was complicated, but also probably what he would say regardless. It's a non-answer. He goes to take another puff on the cigarette, seems only then to realize that there's really nothing left of it, and puts it out instead, without lighting another immediately. "You might or might not make a noticeable impact. Only reason I'd have to care is if you do. And you don't..." A pause, a search for words. "You don't exactly blend in with the landscape, do you."

--

"Don't I?" Remi inquires, looking down at his flawless ensemble with a speculative crimp at the edges of his blue eyes where there's just enough of start of fine lines that it speaks to the age he was when he was embraced and still appears today. That observant glance comes back to Jules and he asks without any trace of insincerity, "Good-looking, well-dressed men don't normally make the rounds down your street, Mr. Landry? How sad for you. Perhaps I ought to make a point of walking this way more often, if only to improve the view." Unfortunately, Remi is as pretty as he thinks he is and with as many years of experience as he has knowing his effect on the aesthetic, probably very little could shake his resolve on this score.

--

There's only a ghost of a smile for this; Jules picks up the beer bottle, though he doesn't take another drink; it gives him something to focus his hands on, at least. "Not just down the street out of nowhere, no. I'm spoken for, you understand. Not really looking for more of that sort of scenery. But you don't look like a handsome new neighbor, see. You look like you got lost off a movie set. It's disconcerting, you see, for the sort of folks who prefer to blend in."

--

Cue Remi placing his elbow on the armrest and letting his chiseled chin coming to rest on one fist with the kind of smile that sparkles, but also whispers the thought of salacious gossip in the way it seems to hold secrets begging to be told. "Obviously someone has excellent taste, Mr. Landry. But trust me when I say that there is no crime in enjoying the view, nor does my variety of standing out create objections for anyone who's not tempted by it. Who would, after all, object to a helpful friend?" He pauses before continuing, "Like your kind, mine can lose control, but on a normal basis we are no more dangerous than your kind." There's a beat before he adds simply, "Especially since, by and large, the only trouble my kind brings is more of my kind, whereas yours..." He clicks his tongue to give his subtle judgement of... hunters? The True Fae? Something. "In any case, Mr. Landry, were I you, I would be in the business of making allies, not laying my pikes in defense of those that aren't even natural enemies." Free advice from the Chess Master.

--

"By and large," says Jules, by which he plainly means, there are a hell of a lot of exceptions to that rule--but he doesn't go further to elaborate. He's just giving Remi another skeptical look, through the rest of it. "Spring can concern themselves with making friends. I'm not good at all the niceties. Don't mean to say there needs to be any trouble, just not sure what we can do for each other at this point except stay out of each other's hair." Here, he starts to draw himself out of his chair, as though the conversation is reaching its natural conclusion.

--

The --shark-- Serpent smiles. "By and large," he agrees without rancor. He will match Jules movement for movement. "I would point out, Mr. Landry, that it seems you have not enough a grasp of my kind to really know what we can do for one another. If you don't even know what delightful neighbors we can be..." There's a little sigh. "I would offer to show you, but as you say, you are taken and it does tend to feel embarrassingly good. I couldn't bear to see so put together a man come undone." The Daeva's eyes rake the very not put-together Jules foot to forehead where his gaze lingers a moment before returning his gaze to the man's eyes, tongue flashing briefly over his lips. "Good evening, Mr. Landry. I'll call again," as if calling upon people were the way socializing is still done.

With no further hesitation, Remi will stroll down the stairs and back to the sidewalk where he'll tip his hat back at Jules - whether it's to the man himself or simply the idea of him, a too handsome smirk on his lips as he continues on to the next moment of his night, the one so like the one he left to have this one, with Jules.

--

Not even the ghost of the smile, now. If anything, Jules looks a bit concerned, or maybe it's just thoughtfulness doing that to his brow. "I've heard plenty of stories, believe me." He's quick to avert from that moment of eye contact, covering it up by gathering up his pack of cigarettes and his lighter from the little table beside his chair. "You have a good night," wished in the manner of someone who doesn't really earnestly think much about the kind of night the other party is really going to have, just a pleasantry before he can retreat into the perceived safety of his home.