Checking up (Alec)

Sitting at his desk, in his room, Alec pours over the evening's earlier events. As he considers his new potential allies, perhaps even friends, he absentmindedly starts removing the contraband from his person and sorts it ritually on his desk. 37 varieties of lockpicks, anchors and probes, three gauges of card, metal and ceramic, reducible climbing claws, a small vial of blue optical powder, magnetic and digital security bypass contacts, wire and associating power cel, telescoping glass cutter, suction cups, small pinch sacs of dry maple husk, card scrambler, pressure equalizer, frequency detector, air pressure opener...

"Well...this place is pretty secure, and I don't think I'll have to worry about prying lawdogs here. It'll be nice having at least one flophouse that I know without a doubt is not going to be fucked with."

Looking at his spartan arrangement, he ponders his own grayscale tastes after the colorful folk he met earlier in the evening, wondering if his social stunting set in with the amnesia...if the contrasts are just a way of coping with a resurfacing sense of style...and not representative of his former, unremembered self. Immaterial...he has to make due with what he is now, and the path he is now on. Whatever came before needs to be as meaningful as a mother that died in childbirth - part of the construction of the current state of things, but unable to pass on its social conditioning.

The thoughts turn, and time passes...

The elevator dinged and opened with a soft woosh. Carol took a step out and adjusted the strap of her heeled sandal. She decided to change her dress and was now sporting a frilly white and blue empire waist slip that dropped to mid thigh. It had long see thru silk with frilly accents for sleeves. She found his door and knocked.

There had been a sudden surge of vampires, old and new, in the past couple of weeks. She only vaguely remembered Alec passing through. Carol wondered if he had his merc training yet. She noticed he was quite rogue like. She giggled at the thought.

((ooc - sorry for the late reply, got a new job and it was crazy this week))

At the sound of the knock, Alec starts a bit, his train of thought derailed. Sliding his shirt back down, he walks silently to the monitor. "Oh...Carol. Shit. I didn't check in on the way down, and she hates that. Hey, I called ahead, I should be all good. Well...time to face the music. Ooo, nice dress, little colorful though, but showy...god, get a grip, perv. Ok, let the blush fade, ok, ok. Open the door."

Hello Mlle Carol, how does tonight find you? Doing well, I hope?

Doing his best to maintain professional eye contact, Alec stares a bit like a deer in headlights into Carol's pleasant orbs. Trying his best to resist the urge to let his eyes drink her in to see the changes that have affected her over time, Alec focuses a bit more than normal...staring completely unblinkingly and a little more wide eyed than most people are accustomed to...but with the folks through here, he knows his little idiosyncracies have got to look like a bi-annual runny nose.

Carol leaned on the door frame and smiled at the startled expression on his face. 'Alec, darling. Thought I'd come by and check up on ya. Seeing how things are going?' She played with the frilled cuffs of her sleeves. She pointed inside. 'May I?'

Distracted temporarily from his goal of keeping good eye contact by the motion of the frilly sleeves, Alec stares at the pattern. He cannot figure why, but Carol's gesture with her sleeve reminds him of meshing string games that children play. Thrown off by this mental nonsequitor, he stares back into Carol's eyes, perhaps a bit too long, before saying

Ah, of course. Just the essentials at this point, was not expecting a guest so soon. Pardon the spartan arrangements and lack of refreshments. Please.

Stepping aside, he gestures into his grayscale room, glancing about the empty hallway as he does so.

Carol giggled as she walked in. She looked around and whole heartedly agreed with his description of the room. It was pretty bare. 'So, how's Nachton treating you? Anything we here at Tacharan can do to ease the transition?' She looked over her shoulder and smiled.

Carol really had no reason to be there, she just used checking up on the new vampire as an excuse to get into some trouble. Working nights inside a cement and steel box made evenings a little boring. You could only watch so many vampires fucking in the elevator or feeding on the outside perimeter. She was hoping to kill some time before she had to report to Ellis in a couple hours.

Alec seemed like a sweet guy. If anything, she was hoping she'd get to see all his sharp toys. She grinned at the thought.

Watching Carol stride into his room dyed his world for the second time that night. The earthy tones of the red and (unnatural) greens of earlier were a sharp contrast to the icy blue and white combination floating through his colorless world. Her giggle was much at odds with her cool clothing, setting a bit of a chill across his skin, canceling the flush that he would normally feel and reinforcing his useless tongue.

Feeling his mouth disengage from any hope of clear conversation, Alec reasserts himself and refuses to let his eyes wash clear across her flowing form. Unable to completely restrain his curiosity, he inhales slightly as she passes, tasting her scent. A hint of leather, a bit of sweetness on her breath and a very slight reminder of fabrics both natural and synthetic play off of her form, in addition to the barest hint of perspiration from her milky skin.

"So, how's Nachton treating you? Anything we here at Tacharan can do to ease the transition?"

Catching her smile as she stepped past him, Alec felt for all the world that he was the prey creature, and she the predator. Strange, for he was the unclean thing that went bump in the night...but he knew Carol was certainly not the wispy little secretary that people sometimes took her to be.

Eurrruhh...

"Ah, nice one, man. That was the crowning achievement in wit and charm. Dumbass." Kicking himself mentally, Alec figures out how to switch his mouth back into the vocal range from the slack-jawed moron range.

Ah. Just arriving tonight. I was actually going over the events of the evening in my head. I met some cousins, and am trying to figure out how much of the interaction was posturing and how much was genuine. I suppose that after the Big Easy I am not used to getting a warm welcome, despite the theory that Southerners are more skilled in the arts of hospitality.

Leaving the door open behind him through years of unremembered social training, Alec gestures to his desk and steps in that direction, letting Carol know where he would be moving in advance. After all, it certainly wouldn't do to get shot in his own room due to an accidental bump on his first night in the Domicile, and though he hadn't checked, he automatically assumed that she would be armed. Comes with the turf, after all. Stepping,

Actually, you caught me in the middle of getting out of my street gear. I find taking inventory helps me focus while thinking.

Stopping next to his desk, he glanced down quickly. None of his ceramics had blood on them. Comforted by the cleanliness, he continued...

Nothing too exciting, I am afraid. The more interesting toys will be arriving a bit later via courier...some items you just don't want to travel with, after all.

Staring, one hand on the corner of his desk, Alec slips, and his vision heightens, just for a moment, catching the recombining lines of her back-lit profile and the angles of his luggage and doorway...her hair obliterating the solid lines of the architecture. For just the barest of moments, Carol turns into a shadow over his eyes - a dark outline that blends well into his world of contrasts. A subtle movement, perhaps his, perhaps hers, upsets the delicate balance and color returns to his vision, and he refocuses. He pulls his gaze back from her hair to her eyes...and realizes that he'd skipped blinking again. Blink.

It was despicable. Really. Just down right wrong how she used her body. Carol really did think she should be ashamed how she used it to manipulate men. Cloud judgment and assist her in getting a good parking space.

It was a curse, she thought as she purposely swayed her hips for Alec.

'The more interesting toys will be arriving a bit later via courier...some items you just don't want to travel with, after all.'

Carol's ears perked. 'I'd very much like to see the toys you have now,' she winked at the vampire, 'especially the more interesting ones later.' She looked over at the weapons and purred. Sheepishly she grinned and said, 'I'm a bit of a groupie when it comes to the weapons the Merc's get to use.'

With her hands behind her back, she strolled over and leaned down to look at some of the weapons. She was fully aware that the hem of her dress was dangerously close to becoming something akin to a shirt. Again, she was so ashamed.

'Will you be doing mercenary work for the Clan now that you're here, Alec?' Carol continued to look over the goods assuming, shamefully so, that Alec was doing the same.

At the mention of weapons, Alec deflated a bit. "Ah...another violence junkie. Too bad. Well, maybe she'll appreciate the subtlety, though. Who knows."

"Will you be doing mercenary work for the Clan now that you're here, Alec?"

Considering the question for a moment, Alec wondered at the proper extent of an answer, and how much detail it should contain. Realizing that Carol could be considered an extension of Ellis...he chose the total truth.

Well...to be honest, there is seldom much call for my skills in the mercenary line aside from long term prep work, recon, subterfuge and acquisitions. Rarely am I called upon to kill, unless the target is quite well protected and stealth is needed more than force...though that comes up fairly infrequently given the skill level of most of our assault operatives.

Gesturing down toward the desktop, he showed Carol the spread...the most basic tools of his trade, forgetting completely that he had a lovely woman in his room and thinking only about talking shop for the time being, revealing the passion and pride he takes in his work for the Tacharan.

These...these are just my traveling goods. Some are certainly illegal, but also easily concealable and are missed should a pat down occur for some reason. The picks and probes are of varying gauges to facilitate a more suitable meld for any mechanical lock. The cards have a variety of uses, from connection propagation, to leverage, to pressure application or equalization...much more useful than anyone would think, really. I have a pressure equalizer and opener as well, but I honestly favor the cards...more artistry involved. The claws, well, aren't exactly common...but useful on nearly any surface and leave remarkably little trace, even on latex...based paint. The vial is an optical powder that isn't readily visible, even to other night types. The bypass contacts are the most impressive looking, but their specificity limits them in more creative uses...but still useful enough to keep with me. Glass cutter and cups...but I'm sure you've seen those before...ah. This is a fun toy...can open, scramble or erase digital data. When used with the frequency detector, wireless networks can be affected as well, but it lacks finesse. Oh, maple husks for nosy people and animals.

I actually hadn't gotten around to removing most of my weapons...just the husks, if those count. Most wouldn't consider them a 'weapon', I suppose...of course, most don't consider the fact that every time one starts an automobile that the individual is seated within a device that relies entirely on the skill of strangers to control a series of explosions to get them from point a to point b.

Ah, stop me if I'm rambling...I realize that some people aren't interested in things of this sort.

Self conscious again for a moment, Alec realized that he'd been quite forthright with a good percentage of what he can be found carrying on any given night. If Carol weren't directly affiliated with the family, that slip would have been highly incriminating...it is nice to have a safe house.

"Wait. Carol. Next to me. And I've been rambling." As Alec became painfully aware of just how far she'd been leaning over the desk, he blushed a bit and refocused on his maple husks, hoping that they could somehow save him from his oddity. Stranger things had happened, after all...

Carol turned and looked at Alec as he explained his life's work. She decided she had done him a disservice by categorizing him into the 'another mercenary' slot. She said as much to him. 'I'm sorry, Alec. I have done you a disservice,' she said. Carol straightened her dress and then crossed her arms. 'You're a good bean, I can see that now. I've misjudged you,' she continued. 'I think it says a lot about a vampire who loves his work. Takes pride in it and his tools.'

She pushed off the desk and headed back towards the front door. Stopping a moment she turned and said, 'I'd very much like to hear about the rest of your equipment when it gets here. A little knowledge goes a long way.' She smiled sweetly.

((ooc - heading out unless you wanted to discuss a merc job storyline or another topic?))

Surprised at the completely unexpected apology, Alec's mind began to spin. Had all of this some sort of test from Ellis? A purely social call gone horribly awry? He had absolutely no established category for an interaction of this type. Sticking with his policy of honesty, Alec states

Umm...well, I am sorry to upset your thinking. If it is any comfort, we are even on that ground.

As she began to depart, he watched her with confusion. At her closing statement, he bowed his head slightly, responding

I suspect you will notice its arrival before I do, as they will be delivered before sunset to one of our shipping facilities. You're more than welcome to help unload tomorrow evening, if you like. Tedious work goes faster when talking shop.

Smiling, Alec holds the door for Carol. Apparently she was a multifaceted individual as well. He hoped that she would take him up on the continued conversation at a future time.

((ooc - nope - I'll keep the thread open for personal reflection for a short while, though. I'll need one more post after your exit, at least. =) ))

Pausing a moment to watch Carol leave (despite himself), Alec slowly spun back into his thoughts on the evening...but with one more variable to add to his already difficult mix. Closing the door, he turned and leaned on it, taking a moment to consider the more recent events of the evening.

Breathing in deeply, Alec considered possible implications from this visit. The Hand of one of the most ruthless individuals he'd ever heard of had come to pay him a visit, dressing it as a purely social call - something he was completely unaccustomed to. She did not find what she was looking for, one way or another in the man, the tools or the philosophy. The fact that she, and perhaps therefore Ellis, did not find what they were looking for, or perhaps expected, resulted in compliment. The disappointment was a surprise, but good for future prospects. It seems that subtlety was currently in vogue in Nachton...which spoke well for the fortunes of our young "hero".

Or, it could all be a ploy to lull him into a false sense of security to make him more susceptible to manipulation...though blatant sexuality and willing blood would probably have been much easier. No...this was a genuine interaction, though the why was very elusive...or maybe he was just too dumb to figure it all out.

Striding from the door to his desk, Alec wonders if his mortal life was any less complicated. If not, he certainly never wanted to regain the memories.

Reaching both into his sock and his earlier memories of the evening, he began to remove and examine both his ceramic edges and the trio from earlier in the night. The one he had the most to fear from seemed to be the one he was most comfortable with. The quietest seemed to be most likely a kindred spirit, but the draw to his past seemed to present problems of an entirely different magnitude.

For now, he would take it as face value. Gestures of friendship were rare enough that they were worth taking chances over. After getting his gear safely in his possession, he would take time to evaluate each at different points. Perhaps, like with so many individuals, they were altered by their group dynamic. It would be interesting to see what the changes were.

Stretching, Alec realizes that he'd missed one of his picks. Peeling his shirt off, he moved his left hand across his upper abdominal line following the curve of his ribcage. Settling on a tiny scar, he applied pressure, pulling the sharpened pick from the fleck and willing the wound to seal behind. Touching two much larger scars, lower on his torso, he pondered how amazing the body was to get used to strange practices with the proper training. Though grateful for the adaptability, he hoped to never go through such ordeals again. He also hoped he'd remember to take all the shards out o his body before playing skee ball the next time.

Unpacking before pleasure, after all.

((ooc - all done here - time to lock up and for Alec to go to sleep))