Mass Murder Is Not The Solution
| Mass Murder Is Not The Solution | |
|---|---|
Almost any problem. | |
| Players |
Arnaud visits Solomon, as he is someone good to know and someone not to piss off. He offers his services, and receives some good advice. |
Sol's office is in the Department of Biological Sciences, a grand old building that houses labs on the first couple of floors, and offices on the top couple. As a junior faculty member, Solomon's office is neither grand nor well-situated. He does have a window, at least, and that window is open to let a breeze in. So, too, is the door. The professor himself is typing at his computer. He's a man whose face seems most comfortable in a scowl or frown, his faceted eyes a pale blue with unsettling reflections of whatever he's looking at. Long, serrated chitin fingertips click click click against the keys. Other than his insectile features, though, he's dressed as any professor might be - a tweed jacket over button-down shirt and tie, ironed slacks, and shiny leather shoes. The floor itself is rather quiet - most of the doors are closed, and the few other professors here are bent over their computers, typing away, or having low phone conversations. Arnaud fits in here about as well as a bull in a china shop, but he also has the very prominent aura of someone who doesn't care one wit. His steps are stalkingly confident as he heads for Solomon's office after getting directions. He's got a red lolipop in his mouth and it makes clacking noises against his sharp teeth as he moves it around, coloring his tongue a bright and cheerful color that contrasts sharply with his alabaster skin, but matches decently with his red-yellow eyes. If Solomon is most comfortable with a scowl or frown, his is most comfortable with a dead-eyed psychopath expression. He stops in the doorway to Solomon's office and slowly takes the lolipop out, staring at the other Lost. "Dr. Solomon?" "Dr. Jessup," Solomon says, absently, before he looks up to see who has appeared at his door. When he sees another Lost - and an unfamiliar one at that, he sits back and gestures for the man to come inside. "Or just Solomon, because I'm quite sure you're not in any of my classes." His tone is dry as he looks Arnaud over. "I don't believe we've met." He stands to offer a hand. "Close the door as you come in, will you? Keeps a student from walking in." Arnaud makes a sound, conceding the doctor's point with the adress. "Solomon," he says however, chosing informality when offered. After closing the door he steps up and shakes Solomon's hand, sizing the other man up habitually but not trying anything machismo like squeezing the hand too hard or something. "I'm Arnaud Lyon. Arnaud is fine. I know Heloise, and I've had some business with Faith. She brought that corpse over, right?" He's the type that doesn't beat around the bush, blunt and straight forward. Solomon's face twitches, briefly, when Heloise's name is mentioned, but his handshake is brief and also not trying to win any hand-crushing competitions. He waves the man to a seat before retaking his own. The bluntness doesn't seem to bother him. "Nice to meet you. And Faith hasn't brought me any corpses that I'm aware of - and I hope she doesn't. I don't exactly having storage facilities for a full body here. Why would she be bringing one over?" His eyes flick to one side, like he's trying to think where he WOULD store a body if one happened to show up. Arnaud's summer mantle reacts, a scent of a hot tropical night and warm beaches lingering in the air for a moment. He sprawls out comfortably, tugging his leather jacket in position in a lazy and carefree gesture, eyes half-lidded lackadaisically. "Eh, it doesn't matter. Just some weird-ass fucked up skin-changer I fought and killed. I had some after effects and she took the remains away, talked about you. That thing was a writhing mass of bugs inside, so..." He leaves the rest out, since Solomon is the bug expert - taking the remains to him would make sense. "Heloise said you're someone good to know and not to piss you off." Well, 'full of bugs' is the sort of thing that gets Solomon's attention for sure. He makes a wordless noise of interest, and reaches for a small drawer in his desk. It has a tray of neatly arranged and plentiful candies in there, and he snags a hard candy for himself. As he unwraps it, he says, "Might be a spider or insect host. That's the sort of fuckery that the wolves usually deal with, but I definitely wouldn't mind getting a look at it. I'll have to contact her." A flicker of surprise at the last, then a bark of a laugh. "And yet, she--nevermind." A shake of his head. "I suppose whether I'm good to know depends on what you want, Arnaud." His own Mantle is a hum like a distant beehive, low and droning. Arnaud tilts his head and thinks about it, the mention of wolves sparking an ounce of interest. "I donno. It was easy to kill, but tasted really bad," he explains. "Made me retch all over the place." He looks at the candy with a lift of his chin, and remembers his lolipop, putting it back in his mouth. "What I want? What every Summer wants. Protect the freehold, other Lost, people." He smiles beatifically. The way he says it it's more likely he means 'I want to fight things, but I can do it for the Freehold too.' "I'm new in town, just been here about a month. Still getting the lay of the land." "No doubt. Even many normal insects have an intrinsic, unpleasant taste to them. It's one of those defense mechanisms useful when you're an order of magnitude smaller than most of the predators in the world." Solomon pops the candy in his mouth and pushes it into one of his cheeks so he can talk without being _horrifically_ rude. Just mostly rude. "Have you met Rachel? She's a Summer as well; good person to know. As to the lay of the land?" He sighs. "Bit of a shitshow, I'm afraid. You've probably heard of the attack back in Spring from Heloise. We've got an issue where a lot of people who were around back then lost faith in the Freehold - understandably so - and are creating another one in the south of the city. Which the current Freehold leaders don't like at all." His voice is studiously neutral as he relays this. Arnaud does not seem to be the type to care about people being rude, since he's rudely eating a lolipop himself. So he doesn't even bat an eye at that. "Haven't met her yet, I'll look for her." He leans forward with arms on his knees, squinting as he listens to Solomon. His expression turns blank as he tries to wrap his head around it. He takes the lolipop out and points it at Solomon in one of those thinking gestures. "Do you want me to kill them all?" Solomon stares at him, blank faced. The two tiny pedipalps at the sides of his mouth drop. "...no. Whichever group you mean by 'them', I don't actually advocate for mass murder as a solution to any problem." He stops, sucks on his candy for a moment or two, then clarifies, "Almost any problem. Might not be the best idea for you, either. While the CPD is fairly incompetent as a group, there are a few sharp folk among them, and some of them are even Accorded. Leaving trails of bodies and mysterious disappearances is a good way to end up owing a lot of coins to the people who have to cover up your mess." Arnaud leans back again, staring at Solomon with intense scrutiny. "Right. Mass murder is not the solution," he repeats as if making sure he'll remember this in the future, filing it in under 'good advice'. He smiles again, all teeth and false cheer, as if that is what one does after just having offered to mass murder people, like a person who has no idea what proper expressions to make to the situation. "I know," he says and looks grouchy. "I've lost two coins because of murders, already. I don't have any left now." Solomon's head cocks to one side. "First, stop murdering people. Second - how long have you been out? Is this your first Freehold? Your accent suggests you're not from Chicago, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything." He sighs and rubs at his face. "Normally, there would be more support structures for new people. But there's a fellow you might want to talk to - Ben. He's a doctor, and a healer as well. Not just bodies. If you're feeling off-kilter, he'd be good to reach out to." "I was unclear. It wasn't murder as much as 'killing them cause they tried to kill me first', and to be honest, the last killings wasn't even really me, much," Arnaud explains readily. "So, it started when I was going into a cornerstore and it was being robbed. I just wanted some lolipops, I wasn't bothering the robbers, but they asked for my wallet. There was a queue forming - Faith came in, she wanted to do some shopping, so I said I'd clear the queue and bit one of the robbers. He stabbed me a few times, his friend dragged him off. Then I ran into that skin-changer, I don't THINK that counts as murder?" He tilts his head and looks at Solomon as if he wants to check his opinion. "Whatever. Next, the robber's brother runs a gang, and they found me and fought me a few times, just fun fist fighting and I thought we were cool. Then he brought his whole gang, and a gun, so I jumped him cause he was aiming at my friend. I normally wouldn't care, but I actually DO care about her somehow. It's really weird. Anyway, I was getting stabbed all over, and then Faith and Haliburton showed up and killed them. I chucked the corpses into the hedge." He finishes the last of his lolipop by chewing noisily on it. "I've been out two years, I was trained by a Summer down in Miami. They said I shouldn't just kill people for no reason, so I try not to. Also, not eat people. It's fine, I clean up my own mess. Oh, and as for Ben - I know him. I've stayed in his house for awhile." Solomon listens, faceted eyes not showing a lot of emotion, although he laughs towards the end. "You've managed to find a lot of trouble in a short amount of time. And no, none of those situations are murder. Although the police might beg to differ should they become involved." He considers Arnaud thoughtfully. "Here." He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and draws out a small business card, which he hands over. "My cell and email are on here. If police _do_ start showing an interest, give me a call. I don't have much pull, but I have a few contacts. I consult for the CPD on occasion. And Chicago has an extraordinary variety of very delicious food - humans are fatty and not particularly tasty. Are you managing to get settled in? Place to stay, all of that?" "Have I? Seems a normal amount to me," Arnaud replies, as if being stabbed once a week is just normal. "It's how I lost the coins - paid to get rid of the skin-changer, and then paid Faith to patch me up." He doesn't seem to have any specific feelings towards the vampire, but was grouchy about the coins. He leans over and accepts the card and two-finger salutes the other Lost before he pockets it. "I'll send you a text, so you get my phone number," he says. "I am actually a good cook. I love good food," he explains, showing that he isn't just a walking killer. "I rented a place down in Peach Tree Tower. They don't ask for an ID. I patrol Auburn Gresham, and I even made a friend." He snaps his fingers. "Do you know how to make a cactus bloom?" "Even for Chicago, that's above the mean," Solomon assures him, voice dry. "Which isn't necessarily bad. Just something to be aware of." He smiles at the mention of the lost coins. "Ben's mentioned he wants to help out Freeholders who need healing; you might be able to negotiate a better rate if you need." A brief nod at the mention of the text. "I'm a shit cook," he says with a smile, "but I do have extensive knowledge of the local restaurant and take out scene. Glad to hear you've made a friend." The last question catches him off guard. "...hm. Not magically. But if you know the breed, I could write you a care guide for it that would help it bloom." "Why would you cook shit?" Arnaud asks. Then he slaps his own knee and snickers at his own bad joke. "Ben's already healed me, just earlier today in fact. I got stabbed in the back, and it did something with some nerves or what not, couldn't walk properly." He shoots to his feet and stalks over, taking his phone out. Finding a photo, he shows it to Solomon; it's an image of a cactus; it's one of those regular cacti found in many homes, but like all such plants, they require a lot of care and attention to detail to bloom, the absolute right conditions. "My mentor said that I was like the cactus, but she talked weird all the time. She also said I need to Find My Heart." +----------------------+ Solomon rolls 9 Dice - 9-Again +----------------------+ Roll: Intelligence +Academics.Biology Result: Success (1) -- (5 8 5 7 4 3 4 1 5) +-------------------------------------------------------- success (public) ----+ Solomon laughs. "Well, you know. Anything's edible with enough spice. And good." He stiffens a little as Arnaud shoots to his feet, but looks at the cactus. His eyes narrow. "Botany isn't my specialty, but...hm. That's a common variety. I'll ask some of my colleagues and send you care instructions." He smiles a little at the last. "Good advice. You seem like a pretty literal person, but I imagine you'll get there." He glances at the clock. "My apologies, but I have to teach a class in a few minutes. It was nice to meet you, though. Arnaud straightens up and looks at the cactus on his phone. "Thank you," he says and sounds genuinely thankful, as if this cactus has a lot of meaning for him. Changelings, right? Focused on such weird things. Phone tucked back into a pocket, he steps backwards towards the door. "Now I know you, and I didn't piss you off." He points at the other Lost. "I'll make dinner for you sometime. Something good." With that, he disappears out again. | |