Serenade for a Shark (Meara)

[Jack Diddly]

Attire

It was always a good night when you managed to find yourself a decent spot, in a heavily trafficked area and no one came to give you the boot by your third song. Such had Jack’s night begun as he loitered in the little public park housed within the walls of the 8th Dimension Mall. It was a gamble, deciding to play here, to be sure. After all, he only worked upstairs and he’d have been out a night’s wages if he did in fact get kicked. Plus it would be a hell of a thing to explain to Alex, his sire, benefactor, and boss, especially if he couldn’t manage to slip back in. Though a part of him longed to be out in the cold. An outdoor audience, as well as their coin, would be sparse, but the way that the bitter winter breeze invaded the senses with a fresh, numbness beat the stale indoor air anyday.

Jack situated himself, indian style, on a bench adjacent to the large fish tank, cradling his guitar like a newborn. Had it not been for the crowd of folks that had stopped to listen to him play, he would have had a full view of that majestic monster swimming within. He’d passed the shark on many a nights, stopping to peer through the glass, wondering if the ocean creature desired to dance among the waves once more. They were like kin now, in a way. Maybe that was the reason Jack had ultimately decided to play here tonight, maybe he just wanted to serenade a shark.

The street musician hadn’t done too many public performances since becoming a vampire and grabbing himself a steady job, things that in another life would seem mutually exclusive. But as his inked fingers shimmied away at the strings of his old mahogany acoustic he couldn’t help, but feel right at home. Not that he wasn’t grateful for his gig at the gallery, it was just that being out here was like sharing stories with an old friend. His patchwork ivy cap shared the bench with him, upturned and already filled with dough. As his voice echoed through the mall, more and more patrons seemed to stop and listen. They were enamored, but, most importantly, engaged as they bobbed and weaved their bodies too and fro, transfixed in the spell of song. It was a little ditty by Mr. Frank Turner, ‘Smiling at Strangers on Trains,’ a love song of sorts and one of Jack’s favorites. He wasn’t a bit amazed as to the spectators reaction to it..it was a great song. And though he was playing acoustic, Jack played it with the raw vigour and passion that had been intended for the punk song. Still he’d look back on tonight and wonder, ‘Was the evening just that dull that so many would stop for so long?’

As he continued to play and his deep, blue eyes wandered through the crowd, he wondered just how many of them knew he was a vampire. He hadn’t been in this strange state for too long and he was sure traces of the life that had once been inside him remained in his visage. It certainly didn’t appear that the spectators minded, perhaps it wasn’t that apparent. Jack just hoped that no one caught him in the mirror of their compact, they’d be in for quite a shock. She was among the crowd tonight, as she always seemed to be, a pale, blue, spectral haze radiating around her. He didn’t have to worry about the onlookers noticing her though, she seemed quite resigned solely to his eyes, to his mind. She moved her body in a rhythmic sway that seemed to Jack slow motion, though, in reality she was moving to the beat of song...no, in reality she wasn’t there. Tonight she appeared wearing a red flannel they had shared, in another life, over a pair of dark jeans, barefoot as always. She mouthed the words ‘Sing for me…’ just as she did on the night she first came to him, the night of his turning. It was as if she thought herself to be some version of the opera ghost. Seeing May always created a torrent of sorrow, guilt, and anger deep within him. The fact that a person he had loved so wholeheartedly could inflict those emotions only tormented him further. Jack couldn’t deny her though and, thus, he found himself singing as he played again, just as he had in a time before, when they had shared more than just shirts.

As he let the song wind down with a few soft, fading strums, he was received with a round of applause and a new round of donations. A thought suddenly occurred to him and he didn’t pause for long before picking up his next tune. He’d already decided that it would be another fast one. Jack wanted to really get them going, he was a performer after all. A bit of his reddish, brown hair fell over his eyes, but it didn’t bother him, though he did wish he had the accompaniment of a drummer. It was a tune by A Wilhelm Scream by the name of ‘Number One’ and Jack’s gruff, yet melodic voice wailed like the band’s namesake. His rhythm was fast and his riffs were harmonious and distorted all at once, giving the melody a darker edge. This could very well be the song that got him bounced tonight, if the expanding crowd got rowdy enough. A wise man had once told him, to plant seeds at every opportunity. What better opportunity was there than an engaged and attentive crowd? Jack could pick May’s complicit smile out from the multitude, as she vanished between dancers. Truly, the park would have looked as of it had been invaded by a sort of flash mob, if there had been any coordination. The guitarist could honestly say this had never happened before...at least outside of a venue and with such a diverse crowd.

[Meara]

WEARING

Meara had dropped in to visit with Alex in the shop, as well as use her desk space upstairs to do work fro her own business. She spent about two hours answering emails, working on the booking calendar, and sending stuff off to her administrative assistant to work on the contracts for the gigs she had acepted. A sigh was given as she leaned back in her chair. Meara had almost a week straight of events for St. Patty's and she was tired just thinking about it. She had placed ads trying to hire more staff musicians and lessen her load, but no one had inquired yet. She would give it another half week to get attention, and then she would have to start trying a different approach. What that was? She wasn't sure. Meara concluded it would be best to consult her sire, who doubled as her business mentor. But that would be for a different evening, as she was spent on administrative tasks and was going to head home to practice.

As she glanced around her closet of an office while packing up, Meara realized her business was outgrowing the cottage model of being run out of her home and Alex's shop. Before she put up her laptop, Meara took a few minutes to log onto the Net and check for real estate. A frown rapidly came to her features as she found the pickings were extremely thin. Another thing to ask Alex. A quick note was made on a post-it, which was torn off and affixed to Meara's planner. Her last few things were shoved into the pockets of her over sized purse before she made her way downstairs.

She gave a wave to Kitty on her way out, and stepped into the brisk early spring breeze. Meara reached to her pockets for her phone and earbuds, preparing to dial up some tunes for the walk when she noticed something a bit different. Acoustic music could be heard wafting through the outdoor mall's corridors. Suddenly, she had an idea and immediately set off in the direction of the music. Sure enough, a decent sized crowd had gathered around a guitarist who was playing some likely rock music. Meara positioned herself to the left of the park bench, clearly in view of the performer so she could watch him work.

Between the wad of cash she could see in his hat, the size of the extremely attentive crowd, and what she was hearing, Meara concluded that he might be a good addition to her roster. She was terrible at a guitar and most pubs liked the versatility of an acoustic guitar over an electric violin. Fingers reached into her wallet and snagged a twenty and a business card, then placed them in the hat before stepping out of the way to stand along the fringe of the crowd. As the song ended, Meara clapped enthusiastically before starting to make her way towards the mall's south exit.

[Jack Diddly]

It had to be more than the fear of the undead that kept the crowd glued to his voice. Folks found ways of all sorts to escape the trouble in their lives for a while. Wrapping up that song, watching the reactions of the assembled, seeing the spectators seemingly coming out of the woodwork, Jack knew this wasn’t that. Most seemed to have a sort of lost look in their eyes, not of a sorrowful nature, but more dazed...no that wasn’t exactly the right word because they were energetic and moving to the music. Like Jack though, it was almost as if no one really knew why they were paying the acoustic singer their time, their money, and their souls, if only for a little while. Truly when did one see a man, who had to be in his upper seventies, dancing away in harmony next to a few teenagers. Either he was the coolest grandpa in town or Jack’s voice was having some kind of preternatural effect on these folks. The latter would be rockin’!

Not everyone stuck around as Jack was reeling in the melody, spinning down the spell. The musician took particular notice of a pretty redhead as she left a rather large bill in his hat, careful not to interrupt to ask for change. Security had found their way to the scene by song’s end, though Jack was sure he’d seen the uniformed men among the mob only a few minutes earlier. They approached him during a round of cheers and applause, as he was emptying the evenings earnings into the front pouch of his guitar bag. He just popped his cap back on his head and cased up his guitar. There was enough trouble in the world already and far be it from vampire Jack to add unnecessarily to it. Besides, he’d found another potential mark for the evening.

Being a vampire had a few perks, agile movement wasn’t least among them. With a few tips of his hat, a couple kind words of thanks, and some savvy strides, Jack was heading in the direction of the exit. He slung the leather guitar bag over his back as he passed the shark tank, sure to make eyes with the beast inside. Between his thumb and forefinger was spinning the business card of the girl with the copper colored hair and the large purse, it whirled right to left, then left to right. Meara Quartermaine, the name was familiar, but Jack was sure he’d remember the face. At any rate, being a vampire meant that you had to eat sometimes and she had a look about her that screamed sweet blood. Though the card had indicated the surname of his bloodline...was it possible she was a vampire? Knowing how his sire had a way about her that made her seem more mortal than immortal, the thought that pursuing this meal might prove fruitless had crossed his mind, but he was curious anyway.

Jack caught up to her near the mall’s exit. A bit of a cool draft could be felt as some folks were coming and going, the doors leading to the outside opening and closing. “‘Scuse me, Miss,” the gruff, yet strangely smooth tone of his drawling voice seemed to echo down from above, “but I believe you may have dropped this.” The ‘this’ Jack referred to was the business card that was still whirling between his fingers. As he caught her attention, he let the card spin out from between his fingers. It lingered for a moment, dancing in the air between he and the girl, but he quickly pancaked it between his hands, as if catching a mosquito. “Man, looks like I just about dropped it myself here…” he said with a look of feigned relief before slowly opening his top hand, revealing not the business card, but rather a small, red paper lily. He gently picked it up off of his open palm and handed it to the redhead, shooting her a charming smile, “Your card.”

No, Jack didn’t turn the business card into a flower. There wasn’t some mystical, vampiric ability that allowed for the telekinetic manipulation of paper, at least not one that the young allurist was aware of. It was all sleight of hand, a old proficiency of his only heightened by this new found, preternatural dexterity. Meara’s card was safely tucked up his sleeve. 'I’m glad you still make them...keeps them alive, keeps us alive…’, the soft, familiar tone rang his noggin like a bell, the apparent contradiction counteracting any comfort it might bring. Jack wouldn’t let his reactions betray the grace of his features though. Truth was, he made at least one a day. “Name’s Jack,” he said in greeting, pausing before adding, “Jack Diddly, and you are?” He still couldn’t be sure, maybe she was just another mortal girl, perhaps it wasn’t even her name on the business card. There was an old saying about assumptions, after all.

[Meara]

Right before her earbud had been placed into her left ear, a man's voice drew her attention behind her. Meara turned to glance over her right shoulder to see the musician that had been playing. A smile appeared on pink painted lips as she turned to fully face him. He mentioned something about having dropped something, causing her to look down. Sure enough, there was her calling card that she had left for the guitarist as a gesture of her interest. She was about to say something to that effect when he made the card dance and then disappear. Meara's lips parted in surprise as the red colored origami appeared in its place and was offered to her

This one was a natural performer it seemed, making her all the happier she happened upon the gentleman in front of her. On first glance, Meara thought he looked and played a guitar like Ed Sheeran. But there was something about him that had that reminded her of "home," Asheville. Maybe it was because he looked like a lot of the tattooed troubadours she worked the crowds with or because he gave off an easy going vibe. Either way it was no matter, as Meara hoped to get to know the man past her first impressions.

Her slender reached forward to accept the flower, the other hand coming up to steady her purse and prevent its contents from spilling all over the concrete. "Nice playing there, Jack. Though I'm not sure how you guessed I like lillies." Meara commented as she brought the flower up and tucked it behind her right ear just like she might have done if it was a real flower. "My name is Meara. You play in this shopping center often?" A cheerful grin spread from her lips to her eyes as she waited for his response.

It as a simple enough query, but depending on how Jack answered, it could tell her a bit about his connections and how long he had been here. Her guess was that he was a relative newcomer as there were only about a dozen or so prime busking locations. Even if Jack wasn't keen on working for her, at minimum she would make sure Alex knew about this man so he didn't get chased by the mall cops looking to assert their dominance. They were a bunch of squares anyways.

[Jack Diddly]

Make ‘em smile and keep ‘em coming back for more, two ideals every performer holds too. The young vampire had his latest audience smiling at least. The question was, could he make enough of an impression to hold her attention for the long haul? The vampire’s original design was still in motion, however. Though as Jack listened, he couldn’t detect a heartbeat. True it could have been faint, but a vampire had a certain supernatural knack for determining such things. Additionally her hand felt cold as it took the outstretched flower. Again, this could mean anything, even the most warm blooded human is cold now and again.

“Ah, now that, is a trade secret,” Jack responded with a sly grin regarding the comment about the lily. Truth be told, it was a lucky guess and a fifty-fifty shot at that. He had a rose or two tucked away on his person as well. Still, the allurist was quite delighted to see that the young lady tucked it behind her ear. It was looking as though he’d gained her favor. “That back there?” He asked a bit innocently, looking back towards the small park area, “Wish, I could say that happened everyday.” Jack was still a bit perplexed by the effect his songs had had on the mall’s patrons. Though it did spark a few ideas and potential plots were hatching in the back of his mind...things he’d consider in more detail later on.

“Meara, pleasure to meet ya,” Jack said with a tip of his hat. So she was the woman named on the business card...the one who shared his sire’s surname. Curious, indeed. She appeared to be so full of life, with that light hearted expression gracing her features. It definitely seemed to be a trait of the Quartermaine bloodline, though one that Jack seemed to lack. Not that he was ghastly or corpsey or anything of the sort, in fact most folks probably wouldn’t think him anything more than a dude who didn’t get quite enough sun. Jack just didn’t radiate the same kind of spirited force that many folks did, not since well before he had become a vampire. The man, just as the vampire, hid it well though. ‘Keep it inside Jack, it makes you strong, there’s power in the nighttime that you won’t find in the day…’ May’s singsong voice echoed down the hallways of his mind.

The allurist made a somewhat exaggerated shrug, “First time actually, I much prefer the street, but gotta go where the people are…” And less and less of “the people” seemed to be spending their time outdoors after dark. It was much more than the cold that kept them tucked away though. “I actually work in the gallery upstairs, don’t want to cause too much rukus, might not be able to get back in,” Jack paused for a moment and not wanting to give the wrong impression added, “I’m no painter, just a number cruncher,” he finished with a smile. There was a certain comfort he found among the art, it reminded him of a time long ago, when he was still a boy...when he’d learned how to make paper flowers. That was about the extent of his artistic abilities though, unless you counted song that is.

“So Quartermaine, that’s an interesting last name…” the allurist flicked his wrist and Meara’s card appeared between his fingers, “Maybe I could buy you a drink and we could talk about it?” Jack didn’t want to give too much away, but he wanted to see what this young lady had to say. Plus he was dying for a drink. Though he was craving something fresh from the body, he was thinking now that Meara wouldn’t be the one to provide it. He had a hunch that they were a bit more connected than they realized. ‘But not as connected as we are…’ No, there was no one quite connected like a boy and his ghost.

[Meara]

A playful smirk appeared on Meara's lips as she listened to the man's discussion of the lilly as a trade secret. Between this and his preference to play where the people were, lead Meara to the conclusion that this man was a street performer like her. Every busker had a tell; a thing that made them unique and memorable. While Meara captivated through dance, Jack seemed to enthrall with paper flowers. Certainly would do the job with the ladies anyways. Either way it was extremely memorable, and helped to convince her that he would be an excellent addition to her staff.

"Ha!" Meara exclaimed as she listened to Jack's description of her old job. She had been the paper pusher extraordinaire for the gallery prior to striking out on her own, and here was her replacement in front of her. Was it a coincidence that her siress hired another musician to replace her. She was about to comment to him on the irony of this when it dawned on her. The people around her watching his performance had acted like they were in a trance. Meara had the gift of the piper as well, though she had more control over it now. Discreetly, Meara reached over with her mind and senses to read his aura. What luck, he was a vampire. And to boot, he was a Quartermaine. Now she was really excited.

A thin arm looped through his as she moved to head them outside. "I worked for Alex until maybe six months ago. I still use my desk on the second floor as I haven't saved up for a store front yet." Meara offered him a cheesy grin as she waited for him to lead the way to wherever they might be going. She could really go for a glass of wine right about now. "You buy the first, I'll get the second. I suspect we have much to discuss."

Power Usage: Appraisal

[Jack Diddly]

Upon feeling Meara’s slender arm curl around his own, Jack couldn’t help but smile. There was always a feeling of victory when one was able captivate an audience. Ms. Quartermaine being the only patron who mattered at the moment, her gesture demonstrated that he was well on his way to making a fan of her. Yes, he definitely seemed to have her now, in a metaphorical sense anyway. The evening’s good fortune was certainly preservering. He slipped her card back up his sleeve.

As they moved towards the exit, Jack pushing the door open so that they could walk through, May’s voice piped up invading his thoughts, “Don’t sell your soul, Jack.” The icy air hit him like a brick, as May’s words threw him for a bit of a loop, transporting him to a time not so long ago. Meara’s card wasn’t the first offer that had fallen into his hat. He recalled a man in Venice Beach, three-piece suit and porkpie hat, who’d promised them tours, wealth, and arm rubbings with the greats. Fame, on sale for the low, low price of their freedom. Not just the freedom to sing and play what they wanted, though that would have been enough, but to say what they were thinking and feel what they were saying. He remembered meeting the shell of performer who had taken a similar offer only a year earlier. That strung out, unhappy fellow, with his empty eyes had been the deciding factor that led them to flee Cali with their liberty intact. Almost as if a chill danced down his spine, Jack was transported back to the present.

Amused laughter escaped Jack’s lips as the cold night pressed in around them. It was a bit of an ‘Ah Ha!’ moment for the young vampire as well. He now knew why her name had sounded so familiar, Alex had mentioned the vampiress when she had been showing him around the more supernatural parts of the city...well at least those most associated with her shop...back when he thought the word ‘portal’ a figure of speech. Catching Meara’s grin, Jack couldn’t believe that this young music mogul was anything like the silver tongued snakes that prowled the states sucking on the souls of naive starlets.“The devil comes disguised as an angel of light,” Jack pretended to ignore the spectral voice that invaded his mind and the phantom strolling, backward through the darkness in front of them, a sad, but crooked smile on her face. “I knew your name was familiar, Alex has mentioned you to me. You’re a musician yourself, am I right?” Jack asked as they turned the corner.

The evening had a rather clean smell to it despite the aura of death that hung over the city. Perhaps it was the cold cleansing away the decay, come summer Jack didn’t want to imagine what kind of hell the scents of Harper Rock would ravage on his senses. The dead were walking the earth, after all and people were well aware of it. The crowd at the mall had been the greatest amount of mortals that Jack had seen gathered in one spot in quite awhile. Folks were leaving and the quiet streets seemed to validate that. Sure there was the occasional rush of a car, but Jack and Meara’s footsteps seemed to echo on into the eternity of darkness. He wondered if he’d heard the slow shuffle and low groan of one of the ghastly creatures. It very well could have just been the wind.

The vampire knew a place not too far from the mall. Since Tito closed up shop, this was his new favorite hole. Not so much for the aesthetics, but for the sheer nearness to the mall. It was a small, stone building sandwiched between two rather tall structures. It was called the Arm and Hammer and it had a little neon sign above the wooden door with a red hammer that was reminiscent of those featured in The Wall. Jack played a few sets here since coming to town. The proprietor was a class A jerk, but Jack liked to play and this guy apparently liked him to play. “I wonder how many times we must have just missed each other coming and going from the shop,” Jack mused with a grin as he pushed open the door to the bar, “I have to admit though, I wander around the gallery more than I hangout at my desk.”

The sounds of jazz saxophone filled the dimly lit establishment. The originator of the dark, soulful music matched the sparsely populated atmosphere well as he wailed away from the small corner stage. The few folks who were drinking at the bar and nearby tables all seemed on edge, as if just waiting for a fight or perhaps a flight. The place smelled of hops and alcohol with the faint stench of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. Jack grabbed them a nearby rustic looking table in a shadowy corner, pulling a wooden chair out for Meara before taking one himself. Placing his guitar bag on the ground next to him, he pulled a pack of smokes from the front pocket of his flannel. “Do you mind?” He asked indicating the small box. The young vampire didn’t need to smoke truly and with his pearly white teeth, you’d never guess he were a smoking man. But the taste of tobacco and menthol was truly fantastic to his preternatural senses and some habits just die hard.

“So how long have you been...you know...like we are?” Jack asked sincerely, with a bit of hesitation in his voice. He wasn’t sure if it was a rude question, like asking someone their age, but curiosity got the best of him. He hadn’t known too many vampires, though he himself was one, though the immortals he had encountered always were fantastically unique and he was quite interested in this vampiress. What had her experience with this dance with darkness been like? By and large, vampirism seemed like a solitary lifestyle. Unless of course you saw visions of the dead, in which case you were never alone. May’s semi-transparent body sat indian style on the table between them, she had a distant look in her eyes as she seemed to watch the sax man jam away. A visage of blood dripped and trailed from her eyes, it soiled the white bohemian dress he’d buried her in. It wasn't the most pleasant of company.

A blonde waitress with bright blue streaks through her short hair and sporting a black, vintage, diner dress came to take their drink order. “I’ll take a glass of whiskey,” he responded with a wink and a smile to the server, “and whatever the lady would like.” Jack didn’t plan on drinking the whiskey. It wasn’t that he didn’t need a drink, he was famished. Whiskey wasn’t going to cut it though and he had no desire to drink it these days. The young vampire was just still nervous about ordering a glass of blood in a bar. It seemed better to keep his true nature on the down low, especially with the way things were now.

[Meara]

"You are indeed correct." Mera commented as they arrived at the bar. She had definitely walked past this place before and had even tried to convince the proprietor to let her play there. He didn't like her style and wanted more of a rock feel to his establishment. "I play the violin and the piano, and do a little of my own composing and arranging." Meara gave a warm smile as she moved past the bar counter and moved along to join Jack at a table. "Yeah - I have no idea how we didn't run into each other til now. Though If you want to play in the mall more, just ask Alex. She loves it cause it helps increase traffic to the shop."

To anyone watching, they might look like an odd pairing. Meara looked very proper with her lack of any tattoos and polished attire where Jack was very much the grunge rocker. In fact the waitress, seemed to be looking curiously at the as she made her way over to get their drink orders. "I'll have a glass of Sauv Blanc, please." Blue eyes watched the waitress wander away as she leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs at the knees under the table. "How long? about eighteen months. But I met Alex about four months before that. It was right after the fall of secrecy and people were flocking here to check out the rumors for themselves." She paused her story for a moment to place her purse on the back of the chair, then scooting it closer to Jack's so she didn't have to raise her voice over the crowd. Never could be too cautious with paladins running around.

"I didn't come for the rumors. I am a busker by training, just like you. So I followed the crowds to try to make a windfall off it." Normally Meara was not so friendly or close to strangers personal space. Maybe it was that she was happy to have a family member similar to her, or a kindred spirit in music. Either way she was glad Alex saw in him what she saw in her. "I was planning to head back to Toronto before Christmas, but Alex made me an offer I just couldn't refuse." A coy smile played on her pink painted lips, waiting to see what he thought.

[Jack Diddly]

The match flicked to life, born with the smell of sulfur and the hiss of death. It’s quick glow was pulled to ignite the cigarette hanging from between the vampire’s lips. It perished just as quickly as it was created, leaving behind a blackened husk, that always served as a stark reminder of Jack’s relationship with the daylight. He reached his hand through the spector, who had made camp on their table and dragged the small glass ashtray towards him, tossing the matchstick inside. Inhaling deeply, the taste of tobacco twirled through the tongue and trailed down the throat to cool his already frosty lungs.

“Violin, that’s a lovely instrument,” Jack responded as he gently let the smoke escape from his lungs and snake, slowly into the air above them, “So full of emotion and depth. I’d love to hear you play sometime.” Vampirism seemed to have the strange effect of creating enchantment in even the most mundane of things. Music, in and of itself, had its own magical quality to begin with. Jack could only imagine the sounds that the skills of a preternatural violinist could create. “I play a bit of piano myself, but, you know, can’t carry one on your back.” A chuckle slipped from his lips as he thought about his experience at the mall, “Gotta say I didn’t take the shopping crowd as the type to take to some good ole’ punk rock…” he paused as he took another drag from his smoke, it flickered in the dull light, “Kind of just played on a whim, guess it was lucky I did,” he finished with a soft smile.

Eighteen months, so Meara was relatively young in death as well. This coupled with the fact that she also knew music, put the allurist at ease. There was a certain honor among thieves that musicians shared. They cared more about the freedom if the craft than the slavery of the riches it could bring. Jack himself recalled when he first heard the stories that monsters had invaded Canada. He had guessed the whole thing a hoax, obviously he’d guessed wrong. 'We talked about checking it out, do you remember?’ May had turned her bloody eyes towards him, they reflected the torment in his own. He wondered if things would have been different if they had. Could one split second decision have changed their fate? The young vampire took another deep drag. Distracted for a moment, he hadn’t realized Meara had gilded her chair closer to his. He gave a bit of a start and then, laughing it off, explained, “Apologies, just thought I saw something.” He leaned in as the vampiress told her story.

The musician understood what drew the violinist to Harper Rock quite well. After all, you had to keep your belly full. It had been lesson number one in the long list of things to do to keep yourself alive in the real world. He wondered though, what was her inspiration for becoming an agent. The waitress returned with their drinks just as Jack tapped a bit of the ash from his smoke into the ashtray. He thanked her and handing her a few bills, asked that the cost be added to his tab. “The temptation to live forever is a hard one to resist,” he responded with a smile of his own as he let the aroma of the whiskey drift through his nostrils. It coupled with a warm, creamy fragrance, which Jack guessed was coming from the young lady at his side. The overall effect was quite satisfying to his supernatural senses. “Especially with the gifts it seems to bestow,” he continued softly. With each gift though there seemed to be a greater pull towards some true darkness from which there was no return. The young vampire would find himself beholden to no thing, however, be it man or force.

“So you opened a booking agency?” He asked as he lifted the whiskey glass, swirling it slowly as he held his fading cigarette between two of his fingers. Jack was interested of course. What guitar playing guy wouldn’t want to spend his nights wailing away at a mic? It wasn’t often that an opportunity arose to do what you truly loved without some kind of catch. If that was indeed what this was, anyway. He considered the red haired vampiress, letting his dark eyes fall into her bright ones. “What is it that tears a sweet girl, like yourself, from the fun of the streets, to the dog-eat-dog world of business?” Jack asked with a charming smile as he placed the undrunk glass back onto the table and leaned back into his seat, “And don’t say the money, that’d be a cop out.”

[Meara]

"I also play piano. It helps with my composing. I don't care for the sound of electric keyboards, and well I'm kind of a shrimp. I can't lug something that heavy through the streets without making myself a sitting duck." She let out a small giggle as she polished off her wine. There was no hiding her petite stature and waif-like frame. She could barely lift her dog, let along a piano. Meara pushed her flaming red hair off her face before settling her chin on her palm and elbow on the table. Blue eyes seemed to give him a more thorough once over now that they were in a more intimate setting.

Out of habit, Meara was looking for familiarity in Jack's features. After the incident with Hudson, she was constantly on the look out for former friends and acquaintances that he tended to use to spy on her movements. Thankfully, Jack did not resemble any of those who she had run into over the last three years. "I know I know, being out performing is way better than networking and sitting behind a computer screen." Meara commented with a sheepish smile as her fears were alleviated and she could go back to convincing the whiskey and gravel voiced singer to join her business.

"I had a couple aims when I opened my talent and booking agency." The redhead started, fingers picking up a napkin to play with as she talked. "I had a great group of veteran buskers that took me in when I first started street performances nearly ten years ago. If it weren't for their help I would've never made it in the industry. So I want to help others get a foothold in the industry. People are always wanting good music at events so it seemed like a match made in heaven to pair musicians and clients." Meara cheerily smiled as she babbled on about her aims. Honestly, he was the first one to hear her full pitch and business plan. After all, only another musician would understand why this sort of thing mattered. "Finally, busking can at times be a little dangerous. To most criminals, we look like easy prey, and I've endured a couple close calls. I figured working as a team would make it a bit safer too."

Her smile had faded at that last item, as she had dealt with everything from stalkers, assault, and robbery over her many years performing. The ability to protect herself was one of the many reasons she had taken Alex up on her offer, and hoped to extend her protection to human and vampiric musicians alike. "But I still perform with some regularity as a busker. One of my favorite spots is the steps of the art museum across from that one really big park. However, I'm a wimp in the Canadian winter and I do a lot of indoor gigs 'til it warms up." Meara's easy smile reappeared as waited to see what Jack thought of the endeavor.