Serenade for a Shark (Meara)

[Jack Diddly]

The young vampiress had an innocent way about her. As she drank her wine, Meara’s animated features seemed to betray her emotions. It was quite becoming and Jack couldn’t hold back a smile. He wondered if it would be something she’d lose as time pressed onward. Though her body would never age, her mind certainly would. Could time still sour? It was a morose question and one which he’d rather not have the answer to. He’d like to remember her just as she was now, as if full of life that they no longer had.

As Meara studied him, Jack studied back, though it would have been a lie to say that these were the first moments that he’d truly considered the lovely, red haired, maiden. He’d been taking notes on her all night. It was just something that came natural to him these days. Intention was everything. As she chatted and he smoked, her’s seemed as pure as the innocent charms she radiated. She seemed out of place in a city full of grim intrigue. Jack had been wrong in his impressions of folks before. Maybe the girlish, purity bit was all an act. Though the natural way she carried it told him otherwise. Playing with that napkin as she spoke was a definite tell. Not even the most talented actress would consider adding that type of detail to a performance.

‘Maybe that’s what we did wrong, we should have stayed low key…’ May’s bittersweet tone sent a chill down his spine. He leaned in for a moment to knock some of the ash from his cigarette into the faded glass tray. She wasn’t looking at him. The ghost’s attention was focused solely on the sax man as he played into a melancholy melody. The tune that filled the background of their conversation had the tone of broken families, faded memories, dismal days, truly a product of their times. He fought the muscles of his face as they attempted to contort in step to the mood of the music and the haunting memories brought on by her voice. “The world’s definitely a dangerous place and we live smack dab in the middle of it,” his voice took on a grim tone, the menthol smoke danced like a spectral haze around him, “ever exposed to the elements, not just talkin’ about the weather, but the human element in its full spectrum. And now monsters too, I s’pose...though they’re none so dangerous in comparison.” He paused for a moment, his eyes wandering backward in time, “there’s a freedom in no cubicles and not knowing where you’re gonna lay your head at night, but you learn to sleep with one eye open.” Only sometimes you didn’t and you paid in blood, he didn’t add.

It was a noble cause, all in all. Jack couldn’t poke a hole through the story, it all seemed legit. He was quite sure he could take care of himself on the monster filled Canadian streets, after all, he’d made it in New York and LA. Maybe that was the reason why he should join up. Perhaps it was a providential meeting and the services of the infamous (or so he’d like to think) Jack Diddly could be employed for the betterment of like minded folks. He took his final drag before reaching up again and snuffing out the cigarette against the ash covered glass.

“Does get pretty cold up here,” he drawled out in response to her statement about performing outside as he leaned back in his chair again. Jack had taken a liking to the cold himself. Cold couldn’t suffocate like heat. But mostly it was the numbing. Even with his brand new senses, he loved how that deadening feeling could take hold of his body, squeezing out every bit of fiery hurt. He nodded, picking up the glass of whiskey and tossing it from hand to hand. Even though it was full, not a drop was spilled. “I’ll have to look for you there, once the summer breeze blows on in.”

Meara smiled and Jack realized he was feeling more at ease than he normally did. Perhaps there was still a bit of human left in the young vampire and he was swayed by some of her preternatural charms. “Sounds like you have yourself a solid cause. I ‘magine Harper Rock has quite a few wandering music makers. Most cities do.”

[Meara]

"I have a group that I play with as a quintet for fancy balls and gala. The mayor hired us for the city's Christmas gala. As a result my phone has been ringing off the hook. However not everyone is looking for violins and string quartets..." She mused with a cheerful smile. Meara was getting the impression that Jack was indeed interested in the business model she was pitching. If Jack looked closely, he might have even seen the weight starting to lift off her shoulders. She didn't dislike her current employees, but none of them had any sort of musical training. They handled the schedule and made sure that she had plenty of swag to hand out at events. Meara even had a security guy lined up to keep an eye on her gear when she was at events and was hoping he would watch the shop during the day when she couldn't be there.

What she didn't have was someone else that understood the industry and could help her with gigs she couldn't fill. She had to turn down several clients because they were asking for acoustic guitarists for a dinner party, or a cover artist for a pub, or guitar lessons. Meara had very little connection to other instrumentalists outside of her more classical training, and she hoped eventually Jack could serve as a talent scout for more contemporary acts. She was sure Tori would probably scold her for hiring someone without an HR check, but Meara decided she didn't care. Jack had already sort of auditioned for the redhead and she liked what she saw and heard.

"And that is where I believe you can help me." Meara started with a smile as she started her offer. "Your familiarity with guitars and rock music would compliment my own talents and would enable me to expand my business's reach and give you a little more of a consistent paycheck then busking alone and be a bit more enjoyable than working retail." Her last comment was in no way a diss of working for Alexandrea. She though their sire was a pretty good boss. But a musician working retail, Meara found was like asking a firefighter to work a desk job. It didn't suit her long term, and she was fairly confident it wasn't Jack's style either. "Right now my apartment and Alex's store is functioning as my office, but I'm in the process of lining up a store front that can be used as a studio and home base of sorts."

Her gaze wandered over to the saxophonist as she seemed to listen appreciatively to the jazz musician. Another genre that she did not have accounted for in her current set up. The petite woman's elevated foot swung a little bit to the beat as she fought the urge to get up and dance. With the business taking up most of her time, Meara had been neglecting her choreography work. Perhaps she would finally get to take formal classes if Jacked joined the team. Mentally, Meara reminded herself to drop off a card and a $10 in the man's hat that she spied up by the stage with the hope of adding him to her musician's network. However, she drug herself back to the business at hand.

"You don't have to give me an answer right away, but what'cha think? " Meara queried, her optimism shining through her smile as she hoped the gentleman would accept. No matter what it seemed she gained at least a friend out of tonight's chance encounter, and for that she was very grateful.

[Jack Diddly]

Fancy was not something the young vampire was familiar with. It was a foreign concept reserved for novels and those with means they couldn’t or wouldn’t properly employ. Still, letting his imagination build the scene, Jack pictured the redhead in a mid-century ball gown. In his mind’s eye it was Christmas tree green of course, laced with a scarlet that complimented the blue of her eyes. The other member’s of her string troupe donned similarly styled classic formal attire, they all appeared like pale, ghosts ripped from the pages of a history book. Snowflakes whirled downward dancing around the vampiress, despite the fact they were at the head of some great, pillard, stone hall, as she seemed to sway with the sounds of her fiddle. The guests swirled right along with the falling snow in a mixture of waltz and swing that all seemed so in step with each other, so choreographed, it could have been pulled from a broadway musical. “I can definitely see it,” he responded with a chuckle pulling himself back into the current moment, “you have the belle at the ball kind of look to you.”

He placed the whiskey glass back on the table. Was he familiar with rock music? Yeah, he supposed that was the case. Jack had never really looked at it that way,
though. He had just always played what jived with his soul. The songs that were the rivers of his dreams. Colorful torrents that flowed, yet floated, in long cylindrical tendrils without end. They were always there waiting for him to reach in and pull out the notes or dive into the lyrics. It was rock because of the passion that flew forth from it, because of the emotion it could generate. There was happiness and sorrow, joy and anger, love and hate, rejection and acceptance that could all be wrapped into one package. The particular pain of every positive and negative thought and feeling could be driven out into existence, into song. And that existence had the peculiar power to change minds.

Jack smirked, holding back a few laughs. It was a strange thing for him, having a steady job. It wasn’t that he was bad at it, in fact he usually did what needed to be done early, leaving him with his thoughts for the remainder of his shift. He’d lose himself in the art, flying through the complexities, swimming through the colors. That was the good thing about working for Alex, his sire didn’t mind his default daydreaming demeanor. It would have been a lie though to say that a job like that was the right fit for Jack. He was like a awkward turtle in a pond of flashy frogs. “I gotta give you the speel I gave to Alex, right up front here,” Jack began lowering his tone just an octave, “I ain’t got a resume, nor working papers, no birth certificate or social security number,” he paused for a moment, “though being we’re in Canada, I’m not sure that last one matters all that much.” The gig at the gallery was the first official job he’d really ever had. Jack had spent most of his young life working off the grid. He liked it that way. It made him a ghost of sorts. There was a tombstone somewhere in Mississippi with his name etched into it, so perhaps he really was.

“But I can play a mean tune,” he continued with a grin and a wink, “and if all that paperwork, or lack thereof, ain’t a decidin’ factor, I’d be much obliged to join your organization.” May wasn’t sitting on the table anymore, she’d faded into the dim haze of the room. Jack was still leaning back in his chair tipping it slightly, rocking it back and forth, his hands behind his head. “Nothing like that gentleman though,” he said with a bit of a sigh as the saxophone wailed away something fierce. Talk about emotion. “I might have a condition, if you’d allow,” he was looking right into her eyes now letting the chair fall slowly back to the surface and leaning forward towards Meara, “I play my own songs. Not to say I won’t cover, I often do, but I won’t let anyone write anything for me to pass off as my own.” Jack’s request may have seemed simple enough, but his eyes took on a rather stoney appearance and his tone of voice reflected a seriousness that had not previously been present. It was of the utmost importance that he retain the freedom to let his imagination create the melodies of his musings. He held out his hand to her, “What do you say?”

[Meara]

"The normal bounds of legal status I don't think applies to the undead legions." Meara teased as she listened to Jack's admittance that he had no legal documents. It's not like human prisons would be able to contain them anyways if they were caught. Besides, many of the elders probably didn't have documents either as they were centuries old now. So surely there had to be a person in town that could be paid to create appropriate forgeries. Meara had heard from Alex previously that Elizabeth traveled all the time, so it was reasonable to believe that forgeries could be procured if needed. "So it won't be a problem at least on my end. If we have to smuggle you out on a gig, I'll just stuff you in a amp case."

Her last comment was made in jest, as it would be hysterical for bystanders to watch the tiny Meara drag an heavy hard plastic and metal case with a full grown man in it. However, the intent behind it was serious. She hoped they might be able to collaborate and play together too. There was a guitarist she had befriended in Toronto that she had an instant connection with musically, kinda like what she was feeling with Jack. She thought it a good omen.

However, her daydreaming was distracted by the somber look that appeared on Jack's features. She could feel her lips pursing as she listened to Jack's "terms and conditions." It sounded like someone had tried to restrain his creativity in the past, and that made Meara sad. She could tell that Jack's style was quite unique, from the way he sang all the way down to the paper flowers he passed out as tokens of his appreciation. Were they only given to ladies that caught his attention? She would have to inquire later, because her focus was needed on the situation at hand.

"I think that is a reasonable request." Meara commented with a knowing smile. Personally, she thought writing music for other people other than herself was a bit of voyeurism. It was like trying to put on someone else's skin when you wrote about other people's stories. It just never turned out as authentic. A lot of her music was composed to make her audience feel transported to a time in her life or to an experience that shaped her. And her covers were only of songs that were meaningful to her, and of course infused with her own flair.

"Writing music is a personal journey. I wouldn't dare to try to put myself in your shoes. It is your artistic expression of your life's story and I want to promote, not hinder that." As she said that, her slender fingers reached out to grasp Jacks's hand to signify her acceptance of his stipulations. "I believe we have a deal. Welcome to the team Mister Jack."

[Jack Diddly]

The young vampire smirked. He supposed Meara had a point. He was technically dead after all. Though he had to wonder if all that would change soon. Vampires being pegged as the guilty party in the unfortunate zombie panic that had gripped Harper Rock and the surrounding areas, it could only be a matter of time before an upstart demagogue would cash in on some kind of final solution. Even though it was speculation and despite his cool, collected appearance, the thought of it made Jack’s cold blood boil. 'Stay on task, love, we’ll cross that bridge,’ May’s soft, phantom breath drifted over his mind.She was right of course, but he found it a bit odd that she was no longer trying to steer him away from this venture. He shrugged it off, at least for the moment there was peace enough to have a bit of fun.

“Too bad I don’t play shock rock, risin’ from a coffin shaped amp case at the start of every show would give Rob Zombie a run for his money,” Jack responded with a sly grin. Since his turning he’d always wondered if the folks around him knew that he wasn’t quite like them anymore. He was a bit paler, a bit more skeletal, but overall he was pretty sure he looked relatively the same. His reflection told a different tale. He’d been avoiding mirrors as often as he could, not so much because he was vain, but rather because it still gave him a bit of a start to gaze upon the lie it told. Sometimes he wondered if it were a kind of premonition...would that be the monster he’d ultimately become? If only an audience could see the creature in the looking glass. He’d have no choice, but to start playing metal.

“Righteous,” the musician replied with a bit of relief in his voice. Clasping Meara’s petite hand, Jack felt as though he were making the right decision. Her assessment of writing was right in line with the young vampire’s own thinking. She wasn’t pushy with her proposal and she didn’t lay out any kind of demands. There wasn’t even a contract to sign, providing additional him with some additional reassurance. Though he felt that he needed to ask, “So what happens from here then?” He wondered if she had some shows already lined up, “I’m available to begin whenever you need me.” Blurting that last line out rather earnestly, Jack hoped that he didn’t sound desperate or too much like a nerd. In a world where everyone wants to get famous, he was just happy to help some folks escape their troubles for a little while...just happy to play.

“Should probably let Alex know that I’m leaving her employ,” Jack added. He was hopeful that his sire would understand, perhaps she’d even be glad to be rid of him. Based on his lack of experience and similar work history, Jack couldn’t imagine that the quality of his work at the gallery was the greatest. Truly, flying by the seat of his pants was an often turned to strategy. Hopefully she wouldn’t kick him to the curb after he delivered the news. Sleeping the day away in a sewer was not something that seemed at all appealing. Though, Jack had a feeling that seeing two of her fledgling vampires out making their own way, would bring Alex more happiness than disappointment.

The saxophone took on a much different tune as a new melody began. It was jazzy and upbeat, lighting up the hazy mood of the bar. It was almost as if the sax man were playing a tune for Meara and Jack’s new partnership. He released her hand slowly letting his rough fingers just graze her soft skin and leaned back in his chair once again. The waitress returned to inquire on their drinks. Jack hadn’t touched his, but he ordered another for Meara, “To toast your venture and the opportunity for some meaningful music making,” he explained as a playful smile spread over his carefully structured features.

[Meara]

A picture of Jack standing on a coffin shaped stage quickly filled her mind. He had on a dreadlock wig on, black pants black shirt, black cape as he shredded on a guitar in front of a raging crowd. A bemused smirk gave way to a warm laugh as the picture rolled in her imagination. She thought he would probably look good as a metal head, with his hair blowing in the breeze during a headbang.

What would happen next was the question posed to her, along with an assertion of his immediate availability. She mulled this over in silence for a few moments. Meara genuinely hoped that Alex would not be too cross with her for more or less stealing her replacement from her shop. But then again, it almost seemed that the blonde had turned Jack with her in mind. "We should probably talk to our sire. Perhaps the three of us can come to a mutual agreement as to when your last day for her will be and when you can start working with me in earnest." She deliberately chose to not say under her. She didn't view Jack as a subordinate, but more as a colleague or a partner. She thought he had as much talent to bring to the table as she did, so there was no reason to treat him as an equal.

"I don't think she'll be cross with me for hiring you out from under her. She may even be one of our patrons." Meara continued, sort of trailing off as a drink refill appeared at the table. As she left go of Jack's hand, she moved to grasp the stem of her wine glass, swirling the liquid a moment before bringing it to her lips. Before she took a sip, she stopped and clinked her glass against Jack's tumbler of whiskey. "Here's to the start of something wonderful," she whispered before taking a long sip from her glass.

But of course there had to be a what next. She listened to the music for a few moments as she decided on a course of action. Meara turned her attention back to Jack as she formulated her idea. "So perhaps maybe later this week or on your next day off, we can meet at Alex's or my place and we can start to look over the gig calendar and maybe I can give you a little demo of my performance style." Meara grinned at the man over the top of her wine glass, hoping that would be agreeable.

[Jack Diddly]

“I s’pose she is the only one you could get a proper referral from,” Jack teased with a charming smile as the waitress brought Meara her glass, “Though I have to admit, I’m not sure what she’ll say about my work experience. But any additional credentials you may need are right in here,” the musician finished reaching down to pat the leather of his guitar case. Meara was right of course. It would only be proper to let Alex know. She wasn’t just an employer, but also a friend. It’d be more than rude just to walk out on her.

“Here’s to that,” he responded with a bit of gaiety in his tone as he lifted his glass to meet Meara’s, “I doubt it, her crossness, I mean.” Placing his glass back on the table and leaning back again, he let the flow of the sax take him for a moment. It would be good to get out and do what that gentleman on stage was doing. Not so much playing the saxophone, no one wanted to hear Jack do that, but rather providing a few moments of escape to a population under pressure. Everyone could use a break now and again, especially these days.

The young vampire nodded in agreement with Meara’s proposal. “Sounds alright to me, what’s your Thursday lookin’ like?” He asked, “I’m definitely interested in seein’ what you can do,” he paused for a moment, “always lookin’ for new things to write around.” It was true. There were so many songs out there about the same, tired subject matter. Jack was looking to breathe life into something that would really and truly make folks feel again. Whether they be feeling love or sadness, joy or regret, heck he’d even settle for anger or hate. Anything really to knock some life back into the living. 'Can't wait to hear you play, love...' The phantom voice was soft and ominous as it slipped gently through the hollows of his mind, almost like a whispering breeze on All Hallows Eve.

[Meara]

As Jack started to inquire as to the redhead's schedule, she set down her wine glass on the table and reached for her over-sized bag and placed it in her lap. She opened it up and started to place things on the table as she went in search of her planner. By the time it was pulled out along with a pen to write in it, a few dog toys, lipstick, a rosin cake, and her phone had all hit the table. "Right then, the next Thursday..." Meara mused as she flipped to next week's schedule. While she read it over, her hand pushed the contents of her purse back in then set it back on her chair back.

"Yeah that should work. You can either meet me at the Clocktower Penthouse, which is where all the Q's hang out, or at my apartment in the Sanctuary Towers. B304." In addition to her attempts to look for something for her studio, she was also looking for her own place. Rowan hadn't been seen in awhile, and living in Ro's place was just well kinda depressing to the violinist. She was making enough bank to buy anyways. That would make her a real adult, right? "Just shoot me a text at the number on the card on the way over." As she was saying this she was making a note on Thursday's block so she wouldn't double book herself.

Meara leaned in to grab her wine glass. "Gives me time to get what we talked about on paper too and to catch up with Tori to get an updated gig list." She placed the planner and pen back in her bag and gave Jack a warm smile. "Sound good?"

[Jack Diddly]

Jack watched on with amusement as the vampiress pulled various objects out of her bag. The old adage of everything but the kitchen sink came to mind. Not one to judge, but he always found it a bit odd the things that a woman would carry on her. Jack was sure at one point or another even the most random of items could come in handy. And if there was a MacGyver of the zombie apocalypse, he’d certainly have a field day getting a lady out of jam with the types of things to be found. Jack really wanted the later to be the reason for the trend.

“Excellent, I happen to be staying in a small hole in the Clocktower, but don’t mind a stroll through the streets to your apartment,” the young vampire responded as Meara was repacking her formidable purse. He’d have to find himself a phone. Jack hadn’t hadn’t had a cellphone since, well he never had a cellphone. Just not something he bothered to buy, just part of living like a ghost. No doubt he could find himself a pay phone though to dial up her digits. If not, he was sure he could bum a few quick minutes off someone lingering around the Clocktower. Might take a little vampiric charm or might be that he’d run into a friendly face. Either way the allurist was sure he’d be able to make contact.

There was no particular reason that he’d suggested Thursday. It was just as good as any other day during the week. It was just the first day that came to mind. Sometimes living on a whim gave you a little luck. Jack hoped that would be the case for this particular venture. ‘It’ll keep the blood off your hands for a night,’ Jack could just never get used to May’s peculiar ability to be inside his thoughts. Sometimes it was as if she were an aspect of his musings, rather than a separate entity, ‘it’ll make for a boring evening.’ Jack smirked despite himself. Hunting had become a past time the two of them quite enjoyed. The excitement of the search, the craft of the lure, the sweetness of death flowing over his lips. Jack suddenly recalled how hungry he really was. They'd be hunting before the sun came up this very evening. And it was the least he could do, letting May live vicariously through him. He almost responded aloud, but caught himself just as he opened his mouth. Don’t want the new boss to think you’re a nutjob.

“Lookin’ forward to workin’ together,” Jack said with a wink and a charming smile. He was too. ‘Okay, it’ll be fun…’ May admitted softly. He could hear the sad grin in her voice. She did love to sing, even if her voice was only limited to his ears or his brain. Jack wasn’t really sure how that worked.

[Meara]

A pleased smile spread over Meara's features as she polished off her second glass of wine. Based on previous experiences, she had about thirty minutes to get home before the alcohol's effects would cause the waif-like woman to wobble a bit when she walked. And as she had no intention of becoming a target for petty thieves, catcallers, or anything that might attempt to take advantage of her buzzed state. That and she lacked faith in her ability to operate a firearm while inebriated if she did need to defend herself. Meara retrieved her phone and keys from her purse pocket, and as she did so she noticed the time. While she had been enjoying her unexpected side trip, she was gonna have to get home in a hurry. Her "roommate" was sure to be hungry and need to go for a walk.

"While I would love to stay and enjoy the jazz show, I best be off before my pup makes a mess of my apartment." Meara commented as she curled her arm around Jack's shoulders in a sideways hug, being sure to not squish the flower in her hair that Jack gifted to her. As she let go, she got up from her chair and put the shoulder bag on her shoulder. "See ya soon," Meara commented before turning and walking away from the table.
She was heading towards the door, but seemed to abruptly veer towards the stage. A few moments passed as she fished a few bills out of her purse along with a business card. Meara stooped down to toss them in the hat, then resumed her path out of the bar and into the night.