Wayward Childer
| Wayward Childer | |
|---|---|
| Players |
Brennan and Faith meet and there are many questions asked about the Invictus. |
It is later in the evening, the tourists that would be in the park checking it off their visiting Chicago to-do list are mostly gone. Those left are younger, usually more drunk. This is a safer place to be at night if unfamiliar with the city. The Crown Fountain is finishing its last, rather spectacular, waterworks show so there are some locals milling about for the scene. Seated on a bench mostly obscured by shadow, Brennan watches the display without really seeing any of it, body hunched forward, elbows on knees. There is a distant expression on his face as he sits completely motionless. Sometimes, even a Nosferatu needs to get out and soak in the humanity. So sometimes, Faith finds herself just out and wandering. She talks to people. People don't often talk back to her. For one, she keeps her face hidden, which really doesn't help with that feeling of her just being weird and more than a little creepy that people can get from her. Tonight though, the presence of another vampire has sparked her attention, and she's been watching Brennan under the cloak of Obfuscate for some minutes now. Not terribly long, all told, but long enough to decide to do something. That something is to move over and sight right down on that same bench as the younger Kindred, across from him, "You know," she says, suddenly able to be heard and seen, dispelling her gift of stealth, "You kinda look like a corpse just sitting there not moving." The voice, as always, is soft, coming from beneath the hood of her jacket. Brennan turns suddenly, bright eyes a little wide. There's surprise but it flickers through quickly, the sign, perhaps, of someone new but well into the process of adjusting to such things. What tension there is in his body eases when he sees the source of the voice and he offers a somewhat rueful smile, "I've been told..." With conscious effort, he leans back on the bench, "when distracted it's easy to fall back into old habits. I didn't have to pretend for a long time...well, a long time for me." Smile gradually becoming more genuine, "in any case, evening...Madam Faith?" A brief pause and he adds, "is that the correct way to address you?" A pale hand lifts up, a gesture of calm and surrender, as Faith moves to show she's no threat. Her head tilts slightly once she's sure that Brennan has adjusted -- at least somewhat -- to her sudden presence. "It can be easy to forget. And in a place like this, at this time, you are more than likely fine, no one is paying attention to some random person sitting on a bench in the dead of night." She says quietly, her head tilting to look over the play of people. "Madam Wilson would be the address," she offers gently after a moment, "Or Madam Au Pair if you're feeling especially formal, and I do not think that this particular place," she gestures across the park, "would require that." Brennan nods, visibly filing the information away. Lips purse for a moment and he starts to adopt a more natural pose. The less statue-like state lets something beyond distraction creep into his expression, a fair amount of exhaustion becoming evident along with it. "I'm glad you are here. I have so many questions but, beyond risking annoyance, it isn't the best to advertise how inexperienced I am." He glances at her with a subtle smile, "obvious though it might be. But your title...this is what you do, instruct people like me?" "Words I rarely hear, gladness at my presence." Faith muses, a raspy sort of chuckle escaping her as she leans back on the bench, one arm lifting up to plant her elbow there. Her head is still kept slightly lowered, the shadows playing about her face, making practically impossible for normal vision to truly get a glimpse of her features. "I can, yes. Within our organization, I would mostly train neonates in the necessary skills of etiquette and survival. I don't think we should limit ourselves to only the ones we're likely to recruit, but my opinions hardly matter there." A pause, and she wonders, "Just how young are you, Master ... I apologize, I appear to have forgotten your surname." With furrowed brows forming a vaguely v shape on his face, "I'm sorry, I never gave it. Llyr. It's Brennan Llyr." There is a slight hesitation as he says it, as if this is the first time it has been uttered in a while. "It's been a few years. It happened outside the city but I was in school here at the time." Looking away from her, there is a brief clenching of the jaw, "I've been back for a month or so. I thought the familiarity would make forming connections easier, remembering what it felt like before." A thoughtful grunt escapes in a rumble from his chest, "I'm not sure if I would be such a desired recruit." "Master Llyr," Faith says with a tilt of her head, sitting up a little straighter as she considers the younger Kindred. "Do you still have contact with your Sire?" She asks softly, the formal cant to her words fading away in the face of something much more sympathetic. "I mean, a few years is pretty good, you know. A lot of people don't even make it that far, so you've obviously got the basics figured out." The mention of a Sire is the first time he's shown evidence of his Clan, the gold in his eyes seeming to almost literally flare with a feral intensity. Brennan shoves it down with a light roll of shoulders accompanying the effort. Expression apologetic, he shakes his head, "no, she did this to me and left. I've never seen her since. The years after were...hard lessons." The tone, his body language more than suggest how mildly he is phrasing that time. "I picked up my natural aptitude quickly but...being social, society...this is all new." She does lean back a little at that display, her eyes lifting up, and maybe for just a moment, one could spot the cold, dead eyes that she's been trying to keep given. They're the eyes of a corpse, clouded and glassy, and forever staring. It is just the briefest of moments, before her head dips back down again. "Fascinating," Faith says quietly, to herself. "Your struggles seem less in need of an Au Pair and more ... I don't know, truth be told. I could teach you how to behave by various standards, or ideas for survival, or about the covenants and clans," she waves a hand at all this, "But these things do not seem to me, to be your immediate problem, hmm? Have you not made several friends already? Your affection towards Lady Bellecourt was quite notable." Brennan watches her closely after she utters, 'fascinating,' studying her mannerisms as if trying to find out just what she means by it. "Clans I am alright with, covenants less so. Beyond the surface, at least." The mention of friends and Lady Bellecourt force a lapse back into stillness, visible effort required to return to something approaching normalcy. His voice softer but more forceful, "I thought so..." The awkwardness he is feeling with the question results in him directing his gaze vaguely back towards the large fountain, "in your covenant, is there really a place for those that aren't Lords or Serpents, or is there just always a barrier?" Faith glances away, casting her gaze over the park once again, watching a pair of drunk 20-somethings giggling and laughing as they move along by the fountain. She leaves the topic of Cumani aside for the moment, circling back around to, "You said before you don't feel you'd make a good recruit. If you truly believe that, then I agree, you probably wouldn't. There is /absolutely/ a place for anyone who is willing to put in the time and effort to better themselves, to learn, and probably most importantly, to know their place. I don't mean this in a sort of, just sit where you're told, kind of way. I mean you'll basically always know where you stand within the Invictus." Brennan nods slowly as she speaks, "I understand. A large appeal, I imagine, is that sense of order. Removing some of the...vagaries of all this." There is a stirring of some sort of emotion at the phrase, 'know your place,' but it passes quickly. Tone thoughtful and brows furrowed, seemingly a default state, "speaking openly, I don't know what exactly my utility would be. I'm not...overly typical of my Clan. Why my Sire chose me I likely will never know. So, a concern is just getting shunted off into something that matches a stereotype. There are...favored roles for us, I know that already." "I do enjoy the sense of order. And the formality serves its purpose as well." Her hands clasp together and she leans back again, still paying vague attention to that pair of people. "Oh, spare me," she says dryly, to rub at the side of her face -- well, the side of the hood. "How terrible that people might judge you by your blood and not your merit. I can't imagine what that might be like at /all/." Her voice actually raises a little there, a touch of annoyance or perhaps even anger at the thought? "What do you /want/ to be, Master Llyr? No one in the Invictus is going to hand you anything without you working towards it, not really. What do you think you'll become? Walk me through this fear you have." Brennan brings his attention back fully towards her, eyes soft and remorseful, "I didn't think. I'm sorry. I've been someone's dog before and it's not something I want to return to." He follows her gaze to the couple milling about while he gathers his thoughts, "I know, to some degree, that is something I can control, even being young. I broke free on my own, I can resist it happening again the same way." There's a touch of affirmation in that last statement. "The largest fear is...devolving, like some of my kind do. That order you spoke of, the rules and rituals seem like a way to avoid that happening. In life, I thought I was going to be an academic, studying religion and magic. The Circle held so much appeal until I learned about the...consequences of its practices." She tips her head slightly. "It's okay. But if anyone is living proof of not being put into a box based on how they were made, I think it might be me. At least, I'm a good example? Maybe." A brief rasp of a chuckle escapes Faith. "It is smart, that worry. The formality does help. When you're close to snapping in anger, when you feel like that Beast within you is scratching at the surface of your mind, it helps. It's like a muscle memory for social behavior." She sighs, her gaze casting to the ground. "I don't know a great deal of the details of Circle practices. From what I have heard, they do embrace some of our natures more keenly. But then, so do the Sanctified." Brennan smiles at her chuckle, rasp or no, appearing relieved he didn't offend her too greatly, at least on the surface. "From the outside, it did seem...stilted, perhaps, but I realize the purpose now. It isn't as...oppressive as I might have thought either. I'm sure it can be in different cities but here there is maybe more of a sense of meritocracy rather than predestination based on factors that are more quirks of fate than capability." He seems relieved the longer they speak, able to ape the mortals around them more easily. Beyond just acquiring information, the distraction the conversation offers is welcome. "How large is the umbrella...is there room for scholars and occult researchers?" "People might see what we do sometimes, bowing before an elder, greeting them with a mouthful of flowery titles, as degrading and submissive, but we don't reckon it so. An elder has survived for a long time, and showing that you acknowledge and honour their power and position hardly seems degrading to me. In turn, many elders are out of touch with modern nights, and as the years drift on I guess they become less and less human, so the rules assist them in responding to the rest of us appropriately, as we deserve. No more, of course, but certainly no less." A pause from Faith, as she considers, "Though that Mister De Clare is an odd one." She shakes her head, pushing it aside, and glancing across at him. "Of course there is room for such things. I will admit, we as a whole favour real world, real mortal influence and power. But we have not existed for so long by ignoring everything else that shares the world with us." Brennan nods, considering her answers, "this city, with the Accords, is such a unique opportunity to learn. I don't think I met another one of us for weeks when I came back, just the others." Thick eyebrow raising with amusement, "the choice of a pizza place, of all things, as the venue for neutral ground was a surprise though." He has enough sense to let the comment about Percy go unremarked upon but there is a fleeting, closed mouth smile. "That's a potentially dangerous path. A lot of folks like to keep their secrets, yeah? And fuck everyone else who comes along." Faith says with a shrug. "Why not a pizza place? It works, clearly enough. I've not really associated with any of the other types within the Accords. I keep busy enough just dealing with humans. But you're right, it is likely rife with opportunity if that's your kind of thing. Be careful about it, but you could learn a lot of useful information." Brennan moves his head from side to side gently while considering something, "we don't have the best reputation with them on the whole, I think. The wolves and Fae are closer, especially down on the South Side." Mouth quirking up at one corner with something close to distaste, "it is...wild down there with everything going on. My campus..old campus...is on that side of town, I thought it would be home but there are things that make us look normal wandering about apparently." "Well I can't say I'm surprised. Eating people is a tough sell at the best of times, and we have a tendency to lie, manipulate and enslave. "It's been a fair while since I went down that side of the city. What kinds of things?" Now she's curious. Brennan looks at her, both eyebrows raised but his voice almost faux neutral, "spirits are a real thing. And not just the nature kind, or ghosts, that spring to mind but...manifestations of abstract concepts. This city has a very angry, very violent history and some sort of tear between worlds has spawned a representation of that, an actual minotaur covered in flames. For us, the wolves, it brings out our bestial sides." Shaking his head a little bit, "I think the wolves have been mostly handling it but others are involved, the Undercity Court. The one in charge is named Nick, hangs around or works at the Al Raby center. Very good reputation." "I am sure I don't really know anything about spirits. Ghosts or otherwise," Faith says dryly, shaking her head. "And angry manifestations of fire do sound like something to be avoided, really. Sounds like a quick way to become another neonate statistic. And you want to study that?" She pushes up to her feet again, casting her gaze about to find that pair from earlier. She's been idly considering them, so it doesn't take her long to locate them again. "Perhaps I should visit the Undercity again. It's been too long. But for now, if you will excuse me, Master Llyr, there's something I need to attend to. If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to reach out." Brennan smiles softly, "want is one way to put it, compelled might be another." He stands slowly, not making a move to follow her but instead offers a sign of respect. Bowing his head, "thank you for taking the time, Madam Wilson. I know the onslaught of questions and occasional...angst, can be annoying." Smiling gently down at her, "I will." A brief side glance at the couple and the smile gets a little more wry, "have a good rest of the evening." "You have nothing to apologize for, really. It's a ... hard kind of existence, this one. I too spent a long while with no one to ask questions of, so, I understand some of what you've been through." Faith says quietly, then bobs her head in a nod. "Oh, I'm sure I'll find something to while away the time. And you as well." She says with a light and airy kind of amusement about her, and then sets off, a predator in her element. | |