Path of the Vampire forum

Meara picked up the document and flipped to the third page then set it back down on the table. "Right here," she commented as she pointed out the line using a purple painted fingernail. Her thin pink lips turned up into a smile. "While you sign that I can talk to you about the first larger venture I'm taking on." She plopped herself back down on the couch next to Jack, instinctively crossing her legs at the knee. Willow hopped up on the couch next to her "mom" and laid down with her head on Meara's lap.

"You might not have been living in Harper's Rock yet last Christmas, but our company was hired by the city to provide the music for the Holiday Ball. Its really since then that I've been over booked and overworked." Originally Meara had been planning to make the most of the event and mingle. She had even dressed to impress. However before she knew it she had been conducting for three hours and the party was winding down. At least she had fun. Winter was the redhead's favorite season and she loved carols. In fact, Meara had made her own modern arrangements for all of the standards and favorites. "The event was such a success that they hired us to help with the entertainment for an upcoming Indian Summer festival. It's gonna be in mid September on a Saturday evening. Vendors, food trucks, games, and the like."

Meara paused as she flipped to a notepad on the table, showing her preliminary notes on what she needed to provide. Blue eyes scanned the text for a moment as she continued. "Were going to have several spots for buskers and one gazebo outfitted as a stage in the center of the park. Perhaps you can help me scout some talent to perform in addition to our lovely talented selves." Meara winked before reaching to grab her coffee filled tumbler on the table that she had left there earlier.

Leaning over the coffee table to study the page that Meara opened to, Jack suddenly wondered who he should sign as. Jack Rackham was his usual pseudonym of choice. It was a name that seemed to encompass all the adventures life had to offer and one that was easier to get by on. Try signing for a gig as Jack Lennon in New York City, they laugh you right out of the club or try to club you. It also felt right to keep the name of the legendary pirate captain alive, even if it was through a no name, vamp, like himself. When it came right down to it though, and, to avoid confusion, he just signed JD. The J was very large and sprawled out followed in similar fashion by the D, both in his finest script. The end result was a signature that looked like it belonged on a doctor’s prescription. Jack placed the pen down next to the contract.

“Glad that you’ll be puttin’ me to work right away,” he responded as he leaned into the base of the couch. Meara’s pup jumped up above him and snuggled down in her lap, but she hardly seemed to notice. The vampiress was in business mode now. “I recall you mentioning that holiday gala. Never been to a ball myself, but I have no doubt that it was quite a show.” Playing for those that had a bit of bread in their pockets was nothing new. Many had what Jack often referred to as ‘Ivory Tower Syndrome.’ Generally it made them easy marks, though sometimes it made them more madness than man. This Summer Fest sounded a bit different though. More open air, more public, he liked the sound of it.

“Might know a few folks here already that would be interested. Always running into more interestin’ folks as well, I’m sure I can add a few names to your list,” it was true. Jack hadn’t be idle during his time here in Harper Rock. Far from it really, though some of his exploits had been and were less than savory. Nonetheless, they were necessary and weaved him into a bizarre network of individuals, some of which had a knack for performance. The vampire stared off for a few moments in quiet contemplation, as Meara went over he notes, on what he presumed was Summer Fest.

It was when the vampiress reached for her mug that Jack snapped out of it. It was only a brief walk down a dark road, but now was not the time to dawn on duty. Though he was sure that Meara’s festival would draw a nice crowd. A crowd which, under the right circumstances, could be worked to his advantage. Jack was pretty confident that the fiery haired immortal had chosen his first task well and he had the perfect candidate in mind to kick it off.

"It was just after the Longslade incident when someone stole the human's cure research and while the Ruins on the edge of town were being examined. The Hebigumo Foundation I think sponsored a lot of it. Tensions were high between the races, and this huge party to kick off the holiday season was meant to help smooth things a bit." Meara gave a bit of a half-hearted shrug as her hand came to scratch Willow between the ears. It might sound like her description of these high politicized events in the city was deliberately vague, which it was. But it was more because she simply didn't give a darn about all of that sort of thing. Her skill set was better suited to helping the masses forget their troubles even if for a little while.

So she played to her strength and let others, like their sire, play to theirs. Alex was like a natural at getting groups to work together, so she could see if the blonde maybe had a future or a hand in governance or activism. "It was a good time, but then again I am super biased 'cause Christmas is my favorite. But it was inside and there was very little room to move around. So that's why I decided to maybe host a community event that was a bit more my style, and likely yours too."

Blue eyes glanced down to look at Jack more directly after he had mentioned that he might have had a couple acts in mind. "Yeah? What sort of acts are they? I'm curious what you might have found as other then that saxophonist from the night we met, I haven't seen a lot of performers out lately. Likely due to the increased zombie infestation." She sighed as she contemplated what they would need to keep the event grounds safe from the shambling bodies all over the place. Likely lots of extra security. Maybe Lockland would be able to help round up a few extras.

Jack listened intently to Meara’s description of the events that had led up to her holiday ball. The event she outlined happened prior to his arrival in Harper Rock. Even so, the effects of said event seemed to reverberate. Jack, himself, found the idea of a vampire cure to be a bit repugnant. There was no doubt in his mind that such a device had the potential to be weaponized against the vampire community. Hell, the vampire was certain that had been the intention behind its research and discovery. Humanity was ever determined to remain the dominant species on the planet. As long as even one vampire existed, mankind would feel that domination in constant peril. He feared that they’d never see the delicate balance that both rational races provided, keeping the strengths and weakness of the other in perpetual check, perhaps for the betterment of the world as a whole. The day was coming though, a new dawn for mankind and a new dusk for vampirekind, where the constraints on such a societal harmony would be removed. Today though was not that day.

Jack nodded in response, “Gotta say, I’m quite the fan of a good ‘ole music fest,” he replied with that charming grin of his. There was nothing wrong with playing in a bar, a club, or even in someone’s home, but when it came right down to it, nothing beat playing the streets. It had a very natural flow to it and always required a bit of improvisation. The experience could never quite be duplicated. You were also able to reach the ears of folks who didn’t frequent late-night establishments, folks who didn’t quite like the idea of packed venues, and even some who may rarely, if ever, listen to a song (poor fellas they are). There was something extra special in providing that kind of entertainment.

“Musicians mostly,” he said with a shrug and a smile, “find myself bumping into a good few of them. Some pretty daring folks, too, I might add.” The vampire had been frequenting bars and clubs that remained open. Dives, mostly, but that was where you usually heard the best stuff. The man he had in mind was a bit different though. He’s been a bar owner, but had finally closed up shop to become a militia man, not without a little coaxing. Nonetheless, he was still quite the talented drummer and, if his braggings were to be believed, a decent wailer as well. “Happen to know a pretty insane drummer and there’s this little lady I met, voice of the sweetest siren, not quite like yours of course, but for a mortal she’ll make your heart melt.” He didn’t want to forget about Sunday, she was a bit of a guilty pleasure, with the sweetest blood he’d ever tasted. He was certainly grateful that he hadn’t had to kill her. Hopefully he could keep his damn urges in check so he never would.

"That sounds great - both of them." Meara paused as she looked down at Jack, sitting just below her on the floor. "Perhaps you can find out when their next gigs are and I will try to drop by to watch. Or they can email me after the call for vendors and musicians advert goes out next week." To be honest, this whole being a "boss" thing was so unnatural to Meara. She had always operated as part of a collective or like a union of musicians. It sort of felt foreign to be trying to direct others, but she would grow into it with time hopefully.

However, her points of order were completed for the evening, so Meara hoped to take the opportunity to get to know Jack better. She had felt sort of an instant connection with her brother of sorts, if that's what you called vampires that shared the same sire as you. Meara had met maybe only one or two of Alex's other childer and only a handful of the extended family. She could recall their names, but their faces had since faded from Meara's mind as it had been awhile since she had seen them. So to Meara, it was really important to develop a strong tie to her fellow crooner.

"So how'd you get started in music?" Meara inquired with a bit of a smile. Her weight flopped down onto the couch and propped up on her elbow. Her blue gaze moved down to rest on Jack, curiously looking him over.

A slight chuckle escaped from between Jack’s lips. It was a gruff sound, but it still held the strange semblance of melody that was distinctive of his voice. It was the thought of Tito playing a gig that birthed the sound. Jack had jammed with him before and he was nothing less than talented, majestic even, in his own way. It had been before Jack had taken Alex’s blood, before everlasting life. Their relationship had been simple then with Jack in the role broken young wanderer and Tito playing the wise old sage. It was the one of the many nuggets of wisdom he provided once when Jack still thought the whole vampire thing was a hoax. ‘Blood is thicker than water, my brother,’ he’d said, ‘but not as refreshing.’ Tito had never doubted the darkness that consumed his city, up until the moment it had consumed the man’s own soul. Jack, to this day, still mulled over the truth of that and many of his other proverbs. He’d get a new one every once in awhile, but they were never as deep as when they had first met.

“I’ll be sure to point them in your direction,” he said with a wink, “might even be able to check out a show together, if you’d care to. If memory serves, one is coming up over the weekend.” If the vampire remembered correctly, Sunday was playing an acoustic set in a charming little spot just on the river...if she didn’t vanish before then, that is. She was so full of fire that it was hard to imagine something happening to her, she had the spirit of a hunter, to say the least. In times like these though misfortune mingled merrily and that damsel, Death, drank lavishly. And Jack would know, he was just another pawn in her dark game, in her rat race for souls.

Meara’s next question yanked Jack out of the recesses of his memories and imagination only to throw him back into the cold sea of his mind. It was much like having a new wave crash into you just as you recovered from a previous wipeout. His dark eyes considered her solemnly as she sprawled herself out on her sofa, her red locks falling like autumn flames around the springtime blooms in her cheeks. It was a simple, casual question really, but one which, for Jack, was the story of what had made him the man he was today. And as he jumped into the sky of Meara’s eyes, he could see that old piano at the group home, he could see Ray’s old acoustic, long since lost slung over the back of a boy who had equally vanished, and of course, there was the little girl with her curly brown locks and too big eyes, sitting with her legs crossed under her smiling up at him.

“That’s quite a story,” he said, finally. It seemed to Jack that it had taken him ages to swim back up out of his imagination, to slip out of Meara’s eyes. Time was strange like that. A million and one thoughts, feelings, and imaginings could float around a man and that man could sift through them all. To him it would feel as though lifetimes had passed, but in reality it was probably nothing more than a moment or two. “It was something, I s’pose I always had. Music lives inside a man, you know, just waiting to be brought into the world, like a wailing baby,” there was a bit of somberness streaked through his voice, “she’s a sweet creature though, and she loves you when you love her. Sometimes she’s the only one who loves you…” Jack paused for a moment, eyes that had seemed a bit gazed over seemed to refocus and he shrugged, “Bah, I don’t know what I’m on about. It was a piano that found me when there was no one else in the world and the rest, as they say, is history,” he finished with a smile. There was a hint of longing in it and in those dark eyes of his, a wisp of something unsaid, a shred of a life incomplete. “How about yourself? What brought you into the world of song?” He asked with a somewhat mysterious grin.

Meara could feel a small twinge in her lips as she listened to Jack's description of music as his companion and his waxing philosophically as how the tune sort of always lives in you. She wholeheartedly agreed to that sentiment, though it might be a different media for different folks. The redhead knew from experience that a creative spark was in everyone, it just needed coaxed out and brought to life by some kind of muse. For Jack that muse was loneliness. For Meara, that muse was awe. Her first musical experiences always filled her with a sense of wonder, and thus she always wanted to hear more. And so when Jack asked the same of Meara, she rather happily recounted her initial forays into music.

"I came from a fairly artsy family to begin with as I'm the product of a pair of humanities professors. So when my brothers got into sports and I didn't, I went to an arts camp. I fell in love with music and dance immediately." Meara smiled as the memory of that summer creeped into her senses. She could almost feel the warmth of the southern summer sun and smell the late afternoon thunderstorms. Both in nine year old and twenty-eight year old Meara's mind, that week blew by in a flash. She bugged her parents every day until they relented for lessons and her own violin. While other teenagers pined after cars for their sweet sixteen gifts, Meara wanted an electric violin. It became an obsession that fueled her every waking moments, and really changed the trajectory of her life from wanting to be a nurse or social worker to wanting to perform in front of thousands.

"Three years later, I was a regular haunt of the farmers market and slowly worked my way up. Asheville's famous for its street performers, so I had a lot of really good mentors." Meara added with a bit of a bright grin. She was proud of her roots. Blue eyes glanced down at Jack before she continued on. "You look like you rolled right out of that scene to be honest. Sure you never stopped through there?" Meara teased as the specter of a friend entered the redhead's mind. He was a scruffy blonde guy whose lanky arms were wrapped in tattoo sleeves. He was a very talented drummer, but alas she fell out of touch with him when Hudson chased all her male friends away. She hoped he and all the others she left behind were hale and healthy, but she just couldn't risk going home anymore to check up on them.

Then she remembered Jack had made a mention for going out to check out a show of some of these people he knew. "I would love to tag along with you, could be a fun little adventure. I almost never have anything scheduled for Sunday, its my usual day off." Christian day of rest after all. Some habits died hard.

There was a lot to be said for family, for upbringing. It came in all shapes and sizes. In some cases it was something a person had for a lifetime, but other times it was gone in a flash. In Jack’s case it was the later. Music had found him before May brought him Sheena and Ray, so it wouldn’t be accurate to say that they had ingrained him with a fondness for melody. It was something the vampire thought about more and more these days, especially being here, in Harper Rock, the place that he’d been born. Was there something familiar that etched song into his soul? Did hammers and strings run through his bloodstream? A part of him knew he was avoiding the search for those, and many more, answers, yet part of him remained in denial. It was easier to distract himself than it was to dive into the darkness that seemed to surround his past.

“We were never in one place for too long, that’s for sure,” Jack responded with a nostalgic smile. Once he and May had hit the road, the days of his youth had become wild and free. Up until the very end, as long as there was a song to be sung, then there wasn’t a worry in the world. Even in the most bitter of winter nights, there was a certain warmth to be found. He thought of her then, with her too big, hazel, eyes that graced her soft freckled features. He could see her sitting across the table from him, a joint between her fingers pressing up against a smile, both so genuinely innocent and so deviously wicked, that had so often been sketched across her face. He could almost feel the silky skin of her bare sole running up his leg as she exhaled a ring of smoke, giggling all the while. That laughter, in and of itself, was a song. The whole experience, from the gentleness of her touch all the way to how the marijuana vapor ghosted around the loose, curly, brown locks that were hanging just over the right side of her face, left a dizzying torrent of tingles throughout his body. She wasn’t there though, not even her shade. It was nothing more than a window into the past, one that had shut just as quickly as it had opened. Jack was left with a familiar emptiness and a strong yearning for a little ganja.

“Asheville, that’s in the Carolinas, right? Spent some time in the South, growing up before heading back East,” though he knew she was teasing, truth was Jack had spent some time growing up in a lot of places. Hell, even when he had first picked up with Ray and Sheena they were quite nomadic, up until Ray got sick. That was when it all changed again. “The sweetest slice of Heaven could hang heavy in your belly,” he mused softly, probably not meaning to speak aloud. He wondered if that too was some Tito wisdom. “I like to think it’s the truest part of the Americas, the South, though Canada is growing on me,” he finished with a smirk, letting his eyes fall back into Meara’s.

“Righteous, it’s a date then,” he responded simply. He spent a lot of time wandering about alone. That’s how it had been ever since May had passed. It would be nice to spend some time with someone, well someone who he wasn’t planning to eat anyway.

There was that word again. Date

The redhead would be lying if she wasn't excited about spending a bit more time with the crooner sitting next to her. He was fun, attractive, and they seemed to have a lot in common. It would be good for her to spend time with some one other than her furkid and Victoria. In fact she could hear her assistant's chiding in her head encouraging Meara to get out of the office more and stop overbooking her weeks. She did try that speed dating thing to try to get her staffers to quiet down, but she hadn't heard from either guy she matched with after that valentine's evening.

However, the premise of being asked to hang out also brought back a lot of anxiety. Most of her relationships had been short, as boys were put off by Meara's dedication to her musical dream over spending time with them. It wasn't until another musician came along that she found herself with a serious boyfriend. Hudson also was pursuing a record deal, so they could relate to each others triumphs and struggles. Within weeks of them going steady things quickly turned from amazing to awful. Hudson was growing jealous of all the attention Meara was getting at her shows and from her new label. Hudson's loving companionship morphed into behavior resembling that of a jailer. Meara was not impressed by his increasingly controlling behavior and ran the hell away from that nightmare before it could fully take root.

As her mind chewed on the possible out to the point that she almost forgot that he had asked her about Asheville. "North Carolina specifically, up in the mountains in the western part of the state. Its often called the Portland of the South. Has probably more breweries, bookstores, and weed-smoking hippies per square mile then anywhere else I've been. " Meara had deliberately let a hint of that southern drawl climb back into her voice as she spoke about her hometown. She gave a bit of a chuckle before she dropped it and continued on with her thoughts. "I lived there for twenty three of my first twenty four years. But I've been a tumble weed since chasing the tourists and the crowds."

“Looks like you may have tumbled into ditch,” Jack said the words cordially enough before realizing that they could certainly be taken in the wrong way. The vampire could smack himself. Sometimes words just slopped out like a whole mouthy mess. Word diarrhea as May used to tease. In an attempt to recover he quickly continued, “and what I mean by that is, Harper Rock kind has a way of grabbin’ you and holdin’ you here. Of course, you don’t look like you tumbled into a ditch, very far from it.” Jack laughed a bit nervously as he subconsciously pushed a few unruly locks back from his forehead, “can’t remember a time when I was in one spot for so long and never was I one foe settlin’.”

The vampire was sure there were many reasons why he didn’t pack up and hit the road. It wasn’t only that there were arcane secrets still to be learned about the peculiar state in which he now found himself or that he could make himself a pretty penny by killing a monster or three, heck it wasn’t even that he was playing guitar like he never had before and that he had just signed on to do it professionally. When it came right down to it, there was only one thing keeping him from heading for the hills and leaving his birthplace behind, with all it’s skeletons still peacefully buried, and that was May. Despite how she haunted him, Jack was even more fearful of parting with her, of what the world would be like without her again. He couldn’t know for sure if she was part of him or somehow tethered to Harper Rock. Jack had a funny feeling though that if he were to leave that she wouldn’t be able to follow. In a way she was his own tether, keeping him firmly tied to this world of darkness. She’d been quiet tonight, even though she seemed to scream out to him earlier on, even that worried him a bit. Could he already be losing her as the nighttime aged his preternatural being?

“Funny place for a couple ole’ buskers to end up, ain’t it? Where the crowds grow thinner as the monsters grow fatter,” Jack viewed it with a sort of irony. He wondered how long this environment would be contained to Harper Rock. It had to already be spreading, in fact Jack was sure it had made its way into neighboring towns and cities, hell, it might even be in the U.S. at this point. Maybe it always had been. In a lot of ways though, Harper Rock was like a new frontier, a place where a new people had taken hold of destiny’s saddle to ride her into the moonlight of eternity. “Still, there’s something about this old Canadian city, something fresh, exciting, waiting to be born, least that’s what it seems like some nights. You can almost taste it in the air,” a look that lay somewhere between eccentricity and daydreaming graced the vampires features as he spoke.