homeless_pard | We'll just see about this...

Entry tags:

jason au

We'll just see about this...

Who: Requiem and Jason
When: A day after the shopping trip? (long enough to set lights and get planters planted)
What: Trying to piece together just what the hell is going on here.

He was still braiding his hair when he stepped into the donor quarters. Sure, it was easier to just go to the club, but he wasn't always in the mood for the lights and noise, hence seeing if any of the donors were still available and willing...

...the donor quarters were always slightly brighter than other areas because the most common occupants were not vampires (not that the Circus was ill lit by any means) but it seemed even brighter than normal. Perhaps one of his meals yesterday had been high? It would explain the mild headache and sensitivity to light today? And would explain why he was loathe to go to the club. He was never at his best when post-drugging.

He tied off his braid with a leather thong then nodded, pulling his hood up. It was a 'necessary part of his character' the cape, and comforting besides, fewer people dicked around when it came to donating when he was caped. Something about the mystery and darkness inherent made them bend their necks to him easier.

Appearances. Feh.

He finally glanced around then blinked, those were...grow lights? Not sun lights, they didn't hurt, they were just bright. And plant troughs had been added, he could smell the damp earth and the tease of herbal scents just under the smell of bee balm blossoms. Well, that was new, he wasn't certain who had decided the donors needed such but he certainly wasn't going to complain?

He was half way to the planters, curious about what had been seeded, before he spotted the man on the couch. What was Jean Claude's pomme doing here? Their Master would have said if the man had fallen out of favor, and yet these were the general quarters. "...Jason?" Perhaps he'd brought a lover and fallen asleep waiting while said lover recovered in a room?

It seemed the most plausible answer honestly.

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Well that got him thinking. "What, like gates just randomly appearing anywhere?"

He made a face. "So how do we find a psychic that isn't some batshit con artist?"

"...I talk to some witches," he sighed. No, he didn't want to. At all. "I think they will adore Khemrys though."

He frowned. "Are there still witches around here after that mess with the skinnings?"

He'd heard that Anita had killed a bunch of them, but not all. He hoped those weren't the types of witches Requiem meant to contact.

"I'm not talking to Winter Witches," he admitted. "But summer, or spring. Gentler coves, not blood covens. There as many flavors of witch as there are, well, people trying to define God honestly."

"Well at least there's that. I don't want to be around any witches that want some shapeshifting skins."

He turned to eye the rocks. "So anything else you want with the vibrating rocks?"

"No one should ever want anything to do with those. The serve a purpose, Winter Witches, but they often...go astray." To say the least.

Anyway, "no I think I have all I may gather here."

Jason all but hopped out to his feet. "Good. Let's start back, then. I still have to try to find a 24-hour grocery store."

He seemed much more pleasant knowing that this chore seemed to be over.

"There are three on the way back," he noted simply. He'd watched signs as they drove? "Though if you wish to consult Nathaniel I do not know that area."

Jason nodded. "I'll text him when we're there and have him give me a list of what I might need. Unless you have ideas."

It was a pleasant night for walking...even with Requiem. Especially walking away from the potential gate.

"I know some, but it has been some time since I fed or stocked pantries." At least when he wasn't being a petulant brat when they were headed away from investigation yes.

He shrugged. "Anything you can't remember, I'm sure Nathaniel will have thoughts on. It'll be keeping him to the basics that will be the trouble."

But then again, having fresh cooked meals available would be worth it.

"If Khemrys's feet weren't so jacked up I'd take her to pick out groceries. I can just imagine what she'd think of the grocery store: you should have seen her face at the fabric store."

"Best to remember how much space we have for cool items," he nodded. "Eggs here are refrigerated. That must be strange to her." Among many things! "The delivery companies may weep at the loss of income."

Poor things.

Yes. "I can well imagine, there is far less personal effort in creating cloth."

Jason chuckled. "I'm sure there's still going to be the occasional order for pizza or something just deliciously greasy and terrible. But it would be nice to have food around that I know isn't going to make me bloat before having to go onstage."

Jason cocked an eyebrow. "You guys probably made cloth way back when, too? Or could you buy it?"

Ah, pizza, something he had already been too old for before it's conception! "Likely, but that is far different than the waves of delivery sorts that meet at the gate these days."

"My family could purchase it, thankfully, knight clothing was not cheap, but I learned to loose weave to aid in making bandages at need."

"Oh yeah, 'cuz you were a doctor." He was silent for a moment. "Is it strange seeing what's available so easily now? Or was it gradual enough to not be a shock?"

"...it was strange, because much of progress was slow in the Council," he admitted after a moment of thought and buckling up. "I tended to the damaged Donors and vassals alike when I was directly serving, and the day I sent someone for bandages and they came back with a box from a store was rather...shocking."

"You guys really didn't get out much when you were with the Council? Or was it just you because of what you could do? I mean, Jean Claude seems pretty comfortable with modern living, and Asher looked like he stepped out of GQ when he showed up."

Oddly, despite his petulance earlier, he seemed genuinely interested.

"They were forward fronts," he admitted quietly. "Sent out to bring in donors, which meant mingling easily in the modern world. And that is partly what the Council blames their eagerness to strike out on their own on." Being allowed to go out so often.

Jason nodded. "Makes sense, I guess. When you see what you could have..."

A quiet moment of driving and then, "What got you to leave?"

"It is why peasants were not educated," he pointed out. "Knowledge arms the people." And thus rebellions. Every time.

Ah, what had him leave? "I was not ready to die," he decided at last. "But where I was was not...living."

He nodded slowly. "And here? Are you happier here?"

His eyes stayed on the road, but his voice was gently conversational. "I mean, I know some of the...uh, issues? Not that Jean Claude ever tells me things directly," he added quickly, "but sometimes you catch things when you guys are talking before or after a feeding."

He snickered softly. "After awhile, even French starts to sound intelligible."

"I am cleaner," he noted with a sigh.

"It is much like moving from a small village, isolated from the world, but all drug addicts, to somewhere modern but with acceptance one does not need to have drugs to live." So it was eye opening and terrifying all at once. "Another reason the internal state of affairs worries me." Greatly.

"Sometimes it's easier with the addicts," he said softly.

"And don't worry, I don't go around gossiping about Jean Claude's shit: he'd beat the shit out of me. I figure with you being third in command you'd be in that little circle of trust they have." He paused, feeling a bit guilty that Requiem might think he was being regularly talked about. "They'd been going over Anita's list and they'd mentioned being worried about you being on it because of the arduer."

"Like any cult, yes, easier not to think, and be told it's the right things to do." Drugs just made it easier.

Too easy.

He shifted a glance at Jason, cold, reserved, "it is part of the job," he admitted through his teeth. Since no one else would truly regulate the woman there needed to be evaluations and risk assessments. And how else would he gain immunity to this new hell?

Easy to justify, really, and yes it scared him in his odd moments. "It is another reason I question your lady." How not?

Jason felt that glance but kept his eyes steadily forward. "It doesn't have to be," he said quietly. "I don't think Jean Claude would push if you asked."

He was pulling off the highway when the last comment registered. "What do you mean by that?"

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