Logs:Welcome to Unlife, Here's Some Paperwork
Welcome to Unlife, Here's Some Paperwork
|Characters:||Fen, Prosper, and Seth|
|Summary:||Seth and Prosper catch up in Elysium, and Fen signs the Shadow Accords and gets an impromptu lesson on New Orleans nightlife.|
The rains of the day washed away much of the filth and grime of the city but it could never scrub -everything- clean. Case in point: Prosper's ever wandering mind lingering on thoughts of straight up larceny. It's as if the city is conspiring to give him too many choices and not enough time. Going from zero to sixty just like that, it's a hell of a ride.
Striding into the Regas proper and beyond, Henry Jacob Prosper -immediately- feels... at home. Hands on his hips, the long lived Ghoul surveys Elysium with the critical eye of a man who's seen his fair share of All Night Society hangouts. Dressed to absolutely slay, he unbuttons his the jacket of his deep blue, Brioni two-piece suit. He finds himself gravitating to a certain plaque. Familiarizing himself with the rules of the ship. A couple restrained laughs manage to break free of his calm exterior. "No country music? Ehhhhh, yeah. I can accept that." He says before sucking his teeth with a tsk.
Prosper's words carry in the pleasant hush of the Elysium to a man sitting with his back facing the door, sandaled legs kicked up on a purple French-styled footrest and a mobile writing desk covered in paperwork in his lap. He braces an elbow against the arm of the chair and turns to speak to Prosper with a somewhat raised tone, enough to carry the twenty feet away. "That's only in here. Obviously we're a music venue in the South, can't get away with banning country music on the entire ship," Seth remarks with a brief twist of his lips into a smirk, before setting the paperwork-laden desk aside and stepping up to his feet in one smooth, feline motion. He's dressed simply, in a dark green monochrome t-shirt that bares his tattooed forearms and blue jean shorts suitable for a balmy New Orleans summer, and he's getting up to his feet and making his way over towards Prosper and the plaque.
"You made it," Seth acknowledges with a friendly smile, hooking his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he walks his sandaled feet over to Prosper. "New Orleans is such a crazy place, feels like an eternity since the last time we ran into each other. How is it, Henry?"
Her arrival feels like obligation. Actually it would feel like nothing observable at all if she could help it, but the little pink-haired teen with the eyepatch doesn't look like she belongs. Actually she doesn't look like she should be allowed in here at all uncarded, but then Fen's a vampire and the doorstaff recognize that sort of thing as an automatic pass, supposedly. Wearing a white tee over blank tank top, jeans, sneakers, general unease. She looks around. A bit lost. A bit wary. M'be she should leave?
Prosper tends to not miss too many details. It's an attention to important things like time, location and proximity to Vampires that has kept the man alive all these years. The Vitae helps too. Honestly, it does most of the heavy lifting. Seeing Seth, he initially chose to not intrude on his work. Instead getting a lay of the land first. He's glad he did. He's also glad he left the revolver in the trunk. "No offense intended. Just struck me as unique." Turning to face the taller and more casually dressed Mekhet, Prosper offers a hand in greeting. Ever polite. Well, he tries. "Glad I did. Would have come along sooner but my contacts are getting noisy. That time of the year, I suppose."
He -feels- Fen's arrival as much as he sees it. Even at this distance, his ties to the Blood were strong. A brow lifting curiously, he upnods to Fen and their blatant indecision. "Stay a while. You won't know for sure if you like it if you don't give it a fair shot." A chuckle then and he sighs, smile burning bright. "Probably said that more in my life than I care to count."
Shaking Prosper's hand with a laugh, Seth nods in agreement. "No offense taken. I'm hardly going to get bent out of shape about that, of all things." A beat. "Yeah, no worries. It's a noisy time of year, all right. If you're ever looking for work, I'm up to my ears in it right now." There's a briefly wry, sardonic twist to Seth's lips in a grin before his attention is distracted.
When the pink-haired new arrival steps into the Elysium for the first time, Seth cants his head to look at her over Prosper's shoulder, then sidesteps into a clear line of sight to speak to her. "Hey there, I'm Seth. Welcome to my place," he offers towards Fen, by way of greeting. "Make yourself at home. Refreshments and other Regas services are on the house for our Accorded guests." Seth's Beast is apparent from a distance, the Vampire's feral counterpart surprisingly docile, coiled and steady... patient, or just relaxed. He stays about where he's at, speaking with Prosper, though his body language is open to the new arrival. Similarly, he's not inflicting his proximity upon her either, letting her choose what to do.
Oh. Well. She appears to have been expecting a far more dramatic welcome. This is sort of chill. "Hey," she'll say. Dim upnod. Still expression, but Beast young and watchful and high-strung. "Nice place." Obvious smalltalk. Still looking around. "I am, uh, Fen." Trying to play it cool, but this is her first time here and she doesn't quite seem comfortable around other vampires for some reason. Noob.
A firm, no frills handshake. A simple thing that can make or break any encounter. Adherence to a loose yet well defined moral code is key to keeping youthful... and sane. If he gave in to anarchy, it'd be like the 30's all over again. Can't have that. Seth's offer to heap more atop Prosper's plate gets a laugh out of him easily. "Feast or famine, right? I'm open to the topic." He says with that relaxed, husky baritone. The Georgian twang faded but still holding on. "Just no double contracting. Makes me feel rushed." Says the old bank robber in his handsome blue suit.
Unable to smoke, Prosper's hands like to fidget. He smoothed a wandering hand down the front of his crisp, white shirt. No tie. Rather casual. For Prosper. "Hey." He fires back with a welcoming, if somewhat sharp smile. It doesn't reach those dark, dark brown eyes. They watch Fen almost intrusively. Curious. "Fen? Pretty name. Reminds me of Fenway Park. Haven't been there in... whew... sixty years? Seventy?"
"Nice ta meetcha, Fen. And thanks, I poured a couple years of my life into designing her," here Seth means the Regas, judging by his affectionate look around this chamber on the riverboat. "Nikola, who's in my coterie, is the Captain... but I designed her from blueprints and initial work orders to what she is now. She's definitely my favorite nice place around here." Seth shifts his weight to his right leg, leaning upon it somewhat as his green eyes flick from Fen to Prosper. "Shall we sit? No sense looming around like a Bela Lugosi film when there's all this furniture." There's an indication of the somewhat mismatched arrangement of comfortable furnishings scattered in clumps around the room with an upnod, as Seth turns to wander towards the seating.
As he's walking, Seth says aside to Prosper, "I don't have anything in particular for you yet, the thought only just occurred to me, but since I've been appointed Hound, it feels like the weather has gotten twice as stormy around here. I'm currently running down a supernatural serial killer in the city... I might need an extra gun on the case, if you feel like some excitement." By the time he's finished, he's returned to his original tall-backed purple French-styled chair and taken a seat again.
"A lot like Fenway Park," she will agree. She doesn't react to the inferred age statement. Actually she does, but effort is made to keep it inward, because Cool. Her accent is Boston. Sometimes. She's been practicing hiding it. The girl doesn't seem to know how to read Prosper. Seth is obvious, he pings undead to her Beast. Prosper is Other. Aaand she's invited to join a table. Mmmmkay. Is she supposed to? Moment's pause, then she'll move to join. Because she's here and all, it's that, leave, or loiter around awkwardly by herself. "So what sort of food and drinks do you serve?" Pointed question, asked offhand as she can make it. Because as far as she knows at the moment her dietary options are rather singular and sanguine. Did he say supernatural serial killer? File that one away for the moment.
"It shows, Seth. The personal touches on everything are a refreshing change from the cookie cutter clubs back on dry land." Prosper admits freely before checking his phone. Those hands need to busy themselves. For everyone's sake. "I do like Salome though. Beautiful atmosphere." When offered a chance to rest his old bones, Prosper nods in unspoken appreciation. Walking with the Shadow Hound, he moves with a gliding ease. Soft soled leather loafers keeping him whisper quiet with every step. "Color me surprised, Seth. You come off as such a peaceful man." He lightly jokes before standing in front of a seat. Pointedly waiting for Fen to sit before he does. "I'd be honored to lend a hand. My gun hand is steady but you'll find me more helpful in finding your monstrous friend out there. Not saying I won't be your triggerman. Gladly lend my time." Once he can sit, he does. Crossing ankle over knee. Fen can feel it now that she's closer. Muted, quiet but no less untrustworthy. The frail Beast of a Thrall. A long lived Ghoul. "For you, darlin'? Probably best to stick with a classic red."
The green-eyed Mekhet offers a half-smile and a nod of acknowledgement to Prosper's compliment before turning his attention towards Fen. "We've got blood, chilled or reheated. Additives to make it more palatable to us, of course, since most of it's medical donation supply. Not in huge quantities, only a bag per person per night, but enough to keep you going until you can get some proper hunting done," Seth responds to Fen's question about refreshments with a thoughtful nod. "I don't want anyone hungry or hunting while on the boat, y'see. No need, considering how packed the French Quarter always is. I'm working on getting a hospital logistics hook-up to increase our blood supply on-hand, but frankly I've been swamped, so that's probably still a few months away from becoming reality. Besides that, if you want to stomach mortal food, we have a couple restaurants on board and an exhaustive alcohol selection as well." Seth gestures towards a mechanical conveyor-belt set into the far wall. "You can put in an order over there, the whole system's automated. It'll either put in an order to the kitchens or just send a packet of blood down for you. A lot of people insist on ghouls in their Elysiums, but me... Mmm, I think that's a lot of work just for wait staff."
In Prosper's direction, Seth nods with a lean against the purple-covered arm of the chair he's sitting in, propping his elbow up and resting his jaw on the knuckles of his fist as he regards the Ghoul with thoughtful consideration. "I'll keep that in mind. I'm waiting to hear back from the Black Constables, they're running down ways to kill her permanently. I already unloaded on her with an assault rifle," he pauses, "silenced, of course, in the middle of the French Quarter... what a mess. Anyway, even though I got her, her species has to be convinced to die with excruciating detail, so I don't have the means for that yet." He settles back against the tall back of the chair with a weary exhale. "Until then, even if we find her, it's for nothing. I don't have any way of stopping her permanently yet. I've got something she wants though, here on the boat. She'll have to come to us eventually."
Seth pauses, and shifts his attention towards Fen. "Oh, and feel free to ask questions. I don't bite, in here, and I'm pretty close to the Praxis representation you'll meet in the city. If there's anything you need, Fen... well, I've been tasked with helping keep order, and sometimes order just comes from community and people helping each other out." He laughs shortly, a twinkle of mischievous intent deep in his green eyes appears and vanishes in the space of a heartbeat. "As optimistically naive as that sounds. I'm helpful until given a reason to be otherwise."
They're casually discussing Crimes. And Violences. Good, good. This is fine. She too discusses such things each Wednesday. As one does. "I don't seem to do food anymore," Fen notes. Y'know, casually. Since we're just chatting. She tried, it didn't work out. The taste was all weird and was just worse later. "So I guess I'm fine... uh." Pause. A beat while she regards the two men. She's a tiny thing and doesn't take up much room at the table at all, but her wariness is more practiced than her undeadness. She's been hiding thoughts and feelings from others for a while, but it's hard to keep doing that AND get anywhere, sometimes. "So. Anyway. Someone said I should come by and get met for being here." Yes, because as it was put to her being an unintroduced vampire in town is at best a temporary thing, if one's health is important to one. "Because it's apparently important." See? Important. Especially if people seem comfortable discussing machine gun murder. Yeah best be kept in the good books.
"Spent most of my years making work for Marshals, Pinkertons, Feds and... believe it or not? Werewolf pack out of Lafayette about thirty years back. -Those- guys were relentless, I'll tell you that for nothin'." Relaxing comfortably back into the cushioned embrace of his chair, Prosper lets his eyes wander about the expansive room but his attention remains on point. "Full clip, still out there. Yeah, I'd say she's a tough steak to chew." Brows furrow low, concern darkening his previously lazily cheerful demeanor. "You so sure you want all that knocking on your door on her terms and schedule?"
"Carthians." He says, leaning forward as if to say it just for Fen, conspiratorially he glances back to Seth for a moment. "That's how they get you. It's a pretty strong line to follow. Community is important, even to all the restless dead." Maybe he's been listening to some of that Carthian rhetoric lately. Maybe even starting to buy into it. Fen's confessions to their newness gets Prosper's brows high, he looks a little shocked even! "My, my, my. You -are- a shiny penny, aren't you?"
"Oh, have you not been officially put on the records and made into a member of the Accords, Fen?" There is a brief eyebrow raise of surprise from Seth: normally, anyone who would know where this place is has had that taken care of already. But then he offers up a slow, fangless smile. "Well, you're in luck. I do that stuff too. They've even got an app for it now, go figure." He's pulling up a tablet from his mobile work station and booting it up, navigating the glowing rectangle of a screen with a flick of his fingers. As he works, he talks in Prosper's direction. "Yeah. Spirit, of a type. The bullets wrecked her manifested body... but my understanding is that she can just make another one, and another one, indefinitely until we stop her properly with the right trick. And it did take the entire magazine, yeah. Tough French bird." He's almost absent-minded, waiting for an app to load up on the boat's wifi. To Prosper's final question, Seth looks up and nods agreement. "I know, but this is the best of bad options. I have to stall for time to give my occultists a window to find a way to take her out. The only other option on the table was provoking her and really setting her off... so far she's been logical and rational in pursuing her motives. If we drove her insane..." he trails off, the implications obvious to the two old predators. Seth instead switches topics to something more light-hearted.
"Oh, yeah, I'm a member of the Carthian Movement," Seth explains with a brief chuckle after Prosper's mention of the covenant. He looks up in Fen's direction. "All the other Vampires will tell you about why they're so great and deserve to be the true rulers of the night. Carthians are just interested in having a society where Vampires are citizens and everyone's treated respectably as long as they behave and don't go all megalomania on everyone."
At about the time he's finished explaining, Seth looks over to Fen, offering her the tablet and the stylus attachment for writing upon it. "So, here's how the Shadow Accords work. I've included the full text of them there, and once you're satisfied, you'll slap your signature on it and it'll get uploaded to the official records that you're a member of the Vampiric Praxis. At that point, you will officially be a Person of the Accords. In other words, you're a citizen with rights to the legal protections of the Accords. For Vampires, that basically means, obey the three elders called the Triumvirate that enforce the laws in the city." Seth pauses in his short, impromptu lesson to smile briefly in Fen's direction. "You agree to behave yourself, keep out of sight of the mortals, and be polite to other supernatural creatures who are members of the Accords. If anyone messes with you, you have the right to come appeal to the Praxis... meaning me and the other titled Vampires, for resolution of the situation or redress of grievances. Pretty simple, if you already understand the concept of citizenship. Though I do recommend reading through it later when you have time, it's important to know your rights specifically."
She has never been called a shiny penny before. She will accept it in this context. Being handed (virtual) paperwork is unexpected. In her mind's eye there would be scrolls and parchment and shit like that. Y'know, feathered quills. Fen scans the thing. "Soo... I'm gonna assume that if I DON'T sign this thing, that's generally bad for my well-being unless I fuck off in a hurry." Less question than statement. Her one eye lifts a moment, Seth-ward, before dropping again to continue skimming the document. Perhaps considering the odds. She got by herself this long, but that was probably just a rare stretch of good luck.
A look of mock long suffering, Prosper tips his head to the left, crooked smirk on his face as Seth explains a bit about a bit. "See what I mean? That's how they get you. Well, that and the parties." Leaning back into his seat again, Prosper steeples both hands together atop his lap. Just to keep from trying to slickly sneak something off of Seth's paperwork. "Circle parties are better." He says with a nonchalant shrug.
Watching Fen ever so closely now, Prosper sees a little deeper and deeper into this newly turned immortal parasite. A soft, reassuring smile from him can be unexpected but there it is regardless. Prosper has a soft spot for the newbies. Awwwww. "No, no, nothing like that, Fen. Is it dangerous? Sure, what isn't? The Accords offer protection against some of the more... problematic issues that we and others somewhat like us face. That and it ties us into a larger sense of..." He smirks and gestures to Seth. "Community. Not signing, of course, is your choice to make. Signing, however, would be a wise idea. You're going to need all the help you can get. This offers some of that."
"You ever heard of outlaws? Like in old Western stories. Bandits and no-goods living on the fringes of society." Seth pauses and leans back in the chair as he regards Fen musingly. "The way I usually explain not signing the Accords is this. You become an outlaw, literally a person outside of the law. You don't have legal rights. Anyone can beat you down, take your stuff, enslave you or worse... and nobody will care, except your friends. You sign the Accords, you're a person within the law, and you're entitled to bad Vampires like me and maybe Henry Prosper here locking and loading on your behalf if anything goes down and a posse needs to be formed."
They're even talking about just that, as a background to this conversation about the Accords. Supernatural serial killer and all. Seth raises his eyebrows somewhat as he continues, "You don't lose anything by signing, in my opinion. Even if you don't formally agree to acknowledge it, well... He who has the power, makes the rules. That's just the law of this secret underworld. If you fucked about inside of the Praxis, even if you weren't a member of the Accords, I'd probably come knocking on your door anyway because that's my job. At least this way, you're officially Somebody." He nods in Prosper's direction, affirming the man's assessment. "It's definitely more help than harm, since the rules would apply to you anyway if you stuck around without signing, but none of the benefits would. But, in the end, it's your choice to make."
And then Seth briefly settles back into the chair again, casually beginning to shuffle together the paperwork on his work desk and return it to a manilla folder, and then a satchel bag at his side. "Can't say I've ever been to a Circle party," he contemplates idly.
She holds the stylus just so. Something something Of Society. Sigh. Well, better in than out. She scrawls her name on the line. Full one. Which of course is more than just 'Fen' but it's official and stuff and apparently these people have assault weapons. She regards her signature. Hmm, yep. I just did that. Whee. "Do I get a membership card or something?" Has no idea what happens now, but is of course trying to play cool. Still.
Seth's talk of bandits, outlaws and no-goods earns a furrowed brow, pouted bottom lip look of betrayal. "Hey. I'm literally sitting right -here-. C'mon." The hurt fades, Prosper smirks wryly and drums fingertips together. That smug, dangerous little smile of his brings a bastardly twinkle to his dark chocolate eyes. "Being Accorded basically means you're a little less likely to have your head gnawed off by a furry Peterbuilt semi with claws and endless anger management issues." He gestures again to Seth with a flipped up palm. "Also what he said."
Prosper looks between Fen and Seth as she starts to sign. He holds his breath a lingering moment as if expecting her to throw it and run screaming into the night. When she doesn't? He just smiiiiiiles as pretty as he can. "No membership card but now I'm not going to follow you home and steal your shit before I go play basketball."
"Nope! But you're officially people now." Seth accepts the tablet back once Fen's done with it, to upload it to the central server and get the paperwork squared away with his own seal of acknowledgement. There's a briefly amused grin on Seth's lips as he shifts to pull out a small, matte black business card with embossed, shiny silver font on it that reads 'Seth, Hound and Keeper' and has a few phone numbers on it. This is offered up to Fen. "But if anything comes up, you witness some weird shit or don't feel safe... feel free to give me a call." A beat. "Also, if you're looking to join a community and find other Vampires to hang out with, do consider the Carthian Movement. We're pretty chill, there's not much more than a half-dozen of us actively around here, and we'd be happy to have you around and show you the ropes. Me and my coterie.. that's close-knit Vampire group, by the way... we're all Carthians. We run the Regas here, and some other stuff. I don't mind mentoring new people, if you're looking to get your bearings. I remember how weird things were, back when I died." He pauses. "And joining's just as simple as saying you're gonna join, and then I tell all the rest of us that you're in with us. No fancy initiation rituals, no dancing naked under a blood moon.”
In Prosper's direction, Seth half-grins with a sidewards flick of his eyes. "He's talking about werewolves," he explains aside to Fen. "Not my fault you're a perfect example, Henry. Much better to be the boogeyman in a three piece suit, though."
The teen does not appear shocked to hear about werewolves. Perhaps she should've pretended, like a known Christmas present. "Yay I'm people," Fen says, unenthusiastically, but with a bit of a smile. Prosper's remarks about following her home just get a Look, like she's not expecting him success in that even if he tried. "Hound and Keeper," she'll repeat. Looking up over at Seth, meaningfully. She watched Game of Thrones. She isn't seeing a resemblance. "I don't know what that means."
Prosper perks up as Seth hands Fen his card, craning his neck forward a bit before wolf whistling low and slumping back into the chair. "That's some serious card stock there, Mister Keeper. You get a bulk offer or splurge on the customs for funsies?" He asks with an ever present threat of a smile on his lips. He's in a good mood. Plenty of work. New house guests. New suits. What's not to be in high spirits about? "Aaaah, there it is." He chuckles, pointing between the two Vampires with a rapidly waggling finger. "I knew it was coming. You have to admit, as far as sales pitches go, that's not a-Hey! C'mon." Prosper throws his head back with a thump and laughs. "Like being chill and nude ritualized celebration are mutually exclusive things."
Head still back, eyes on the ceiling, Prosper fidgets with his cufflinks. Shiny platinum. Likely stolen. "Never been to a Circle party? You're making me sad, Seth." Snapping his fingers, Prosper suddenly lurches forward. Fen's questions, while many, are not ignored. "Hound is basically a state sanctioned thug. But! In this case, it's more like the Triumvirates curled fist. If you see him on that time card? Fucking run." He holds up a single digit. "Keeper refers to his position here. This is an Elysium. It's safe grounds. For everyone Accorded. He, as Keeper, keeps the rules being followed. Even if they have a disturbing distaste for blue grass and or folk music. It's safe here." He hand wobbles then. "You know, until he decides otherwise or you flip out and try to chew out my collar bone."
"Ah, that." Seth kicks out of his black sandals and sits cross-legged, indian-style upon the tall-backed French chair, dropping his palms onto his knees as he regards Fen. Prosper's explanation gets an approving nod from him and a faint ghost of a grin lingers on his lips. "Yeah, pretty much that," he nods over in Prosper's direction. A smirk follows, "You want folk music, we've got an entire country night weekly at one of our on-board music venues and even Psychobilly once a month." He nods in the direction of the subtly planted speakers around the room, playing soft instrumental jazz. "I just can't hear myself think if someone plays blue grass for more than ten minutes."
Prosper's off-hand comments do get a chuckle out of Seth, though he chooses not to elaborate on them further. "There's me, and then my compatriot Nikola. We're both in charge of keeping the peace in Vampiredom, and we also both run this Elysium... and this ship. It's our little slice of unlife, so to speak. But New Orleans is a lot for just two people to keep an eye on, even if we are Vampires, so occasionally we work with others to get the job done. Having friends is helpful... it's a big city, and it's tough to tackle alone even if you know what you're about."
A little nod, showing she's listening. Perhaps even more closely than it appears, as she's planning a long and healthy afterlife. She's already died once and doesn't care to again. "Soo... Are we allowed to hang out with..." pause, trying to read things here, "Werewolves and stuff? Or is it like Underworld and we're not supposed to?" Yes, her vampire references are books and movies. Yes she has crossed 'sparkles' off her list of expectations.
"Don't you toy with my emotions, Seth. I'll be on this boat quicker than you think." Having recently found himself lifted out of purgatory(guarding a torpid Gangrel priestess), live music and the warmth of a crowd has been an unexpected pleasure for the dedicated sneak and brigand like Prosper. "I don't know what 'Psychobilly' is and for once in my years, I actually am nervous at the thought of asking." Patting himself down, Prosper finds his hands encircling a cigarette case. He clicks his tongue, chides himself and starts to stand. "Nikola. I have yet to come across him. Or Muse, for that matter. Starting to think they are hiding. Or I am." Buttoning his jacket and checking that oh so shiny watch, Prosper looks to Fen and gives a polite, well meaning smile. Even if it does come off as faintly smug or unfriendly.
"I -wish- it was like Underworld. I need a Kate Beckinsale in my life. Not for long... okay, maybe for a while but I'm not a greedy man." He is. He absolutely is. A respectful nod to Seth, then Fen. "Have a good evening, you two. Try not to piss off any packs from Lafayette. Trust me. Other than them? Haven't had a problem with their sort." Quiet as a ghost, Prosper shuffles on out as he withdraws a phone. "No, no, no. Club soda does not get blood out of... ughhh.... I'm on the way."
"The beauty of the Accords is that you can hang out with whoever you want, that's Accorded. We've got an ambassador from the Changing Folk.. y'know, the Fae. Faeries. With the magic." Seth offers a wave and an amused smirk to Prosper as the man departs, letting him take care of his abrupt business without any undue further attention beyond the goodbye. "Pleasant company, so long as you're courteous." He settles back again, unusually relaxed considering the dignity of both this place and his position. He doesn't seem to be bothered by either as he looks back to Fen. "General rule is, so long as they're Accorded, they're people. Means everyone. Lotta Vampires barely hang out with their own kind, preferring other groups. And that's normal, for New Orleans."
"Okay, cool," Fen seeming a bit relieved, "Cuz I've been hanging out with some guys. I didn't know if it was going to get me in shit or anything." Absent brush of a finger to get some drifting pink bangs out of her eye, "They've been friends and stuff." Her little support group all this time, since apparently it hasn't been other vampires. She is a little bit relaxed from her first arrival here, but still a bit wound. Still not wholly comfortable. Her Beast is not used to other predators about. "So are there like meetings and things? I mean I, uh, didn't get like a handbook or anything and I fucked off here to New Orleans cuz I didn't want to keep dealing with shit at home, dead or alive."
"Not really, nah. Everyone figures out the Requiem on their own, or with the help of mentors. That's why we form the groups, y'know, like the Carthians. Or smaller groups like coteries. Having friends is important." Seth's tranquil gaze briefly assesses Fen before resuming its normal relaxation. "It's good that you've found some. Those are the best support you can have." He knits his fingers behind his head, leaning against the tall purple fabric back of the chair. "As far as meetings... nah, not really. If something really big happens, there'll be news in the Elysiums. This place, and then there's one under Lee Circle Library. It's worth checking in here periodically just to read the bulletins and see what's happening in town. Beyond that..." he shrugs. "I'm planning on putting together some social events for this place eventually, but as you heard, I've got a serial killer on the loose, so that's been taking up most of my attention lately."
Seth pauses. "Generally, you get support like a handbook from joining a Convenant or a coterie or some other group. That's the main deal. Everybody's resources are pretty hard-won, so they're not gonna share much with outsiders. But once you're people, it's easier to get a cut of the pie. If you join a more specific group, you get more pie. More responsibilities too, generally, but that's just how it works." Seth turns over the question thoughtfully. "If you've got general questions, of course, I'm happy to field those. Not knowing what you're doing potentially means it's a mess I might have to clean up later if you get unlucky, so it doesn't bother me taking the time to answer stuff now."
"Cool, cool." This is sounding a lot less formal than she feared. This is good. "Yeah, I'll ask if I think of something. So far I've managed to figure shit out well enough, though." Bit of a grin, bit of a faux-victorious pat of the chest, "I mean I'm not deader or anything. No sunburns, I've managed to avoid unnecessary stabbing with bits of wood." You know, the obvious things. "And apparently I'm bulletproof but honestly I wish I knew that ahead of time cuz that shit was fucking alarming let me tell you." She grins, but yes it's funny /now/. At the time it was right disconcerting. "I'm just trying to chill and do my shit, get some money together. No super plotting or anything."
An eyebrow raises at Fen's mention of being bullet-proof, and Seth smirks at the recounting. "Yeah, good you survived. Just avoid fire. Your Beast'll want to run screaming from it instinctively anyway, but... there's not a lot that can dust a Vampire easily. Decapitation, sunlight, fire. Those are the big three. Using fire against a Vampire is a big no-no unless you're trying to kill that fanger permanently dead. Which.. if they're Accorded and you kill 'em, you'll probably run into issues unless you can prove you had a good reason. Similarly, if anyone tries to use fire against you... take it real seriously, for your own health."
Seth exhales after this, shaking his head at the mention of fire as a topic. "Yeah. Anyway. If you need any help with money stuff, there's a couple solid options. First one is to Ghoul a mortal that's already got money, if you find a person whose continued existence you can stomach. Second is to find or start an Accorded business and work that for money. I'm still recruiting staff to man the Regas, if you're into security or hospitality." Seth considers. "I wouldn't mind using my resources to help you get your feet. All I ask is just that people behave and keep the peace." He cants his head to the side. "Third option, of course, is to develop a highly skilled profession with the help of your talents of the Blood, and then leverage that to work as a freelancer to make money. New Orleans has a lot of work for Accorded folks peddling unusual skill sets."
Fires? Yeah, fires. Seth totally gets the point-nod on fires because ohshit fires /so/ disturb her calm and it is not cool at all. But to the rest, a listen, a bit of a somber laugh, "Yeah man I'm just working retail right now. It's my first job." She doesn't mind it. Not far from the Quarter and nightlife. "But yeah I know I gotta start thinking longer term. And be clever about it, cuz, I mean," a pause, loosely framing her face for a moment with her hands. There's a fading X on the back of her wrist, from where some bouncer decided there was no way in hell the venue's bar should be serving her. "Look. I mean was gonna totally buy into the forever young thing but reality is I'ma gonna look like a barista /forever/ and I need to figure out how to get around that." Sigh. Fucking /realities/ intruding in on her immortal afterlife. Fuck's sake. Why's everything always so complicated. "Anyway, I oughta get going, some shit to sort out before morning. So I can just come 'round here whenever, right?""Yeah, feel free to pop by. I'm in here a lot doing paperwork, come here to think myself." Seth tips his head into a nod after listening to Fen's story about her current employment with a thoughtful hum. "Yeah. There's ways around that, no worries on the money. The trick is just to set up income... and then you're gonna live for decades or centuries, so you can just enjoy the steady waterfall of cash and not worry about it." Speaking from experience, if the blatant opulence of the Regas that Seth owns is anything to go by. He offers a grin in Fen's direction and a nod. "I can't promise all the Vampires around here are gonna be as chill as I am. I'm old enough and I've seen a lot, so not much bothers me anymore. But feel free to drop me a line if anything comes up. Good to meet you, Fen. Stay safe out there."