when by now and tree by leaf
04:00 - In the Kashtta Tower, soft music is floating from the piano room tucked back by the cursed hallway.
It's not terribly good music.
J picked his way through a primer someone had left on their piano, and is now demonstrating minimal proficiency at having memorized any of the songs. He can pretty reliably hit the first few bars of Ode to Joy ( Read more... )
It's not terribly good music.
J picked his way through a primer someone had left on their piano, and is now demonstrating minimal proficiency at having memorized any of the songs. He can pretty reliably hit the first few bars of Ode to Joy ( Read more... )
Rachel Dawes is tending to her everyday business in the Conrad when she stumbles upon Dimitri Lang and the receptionist. Rachel met this woman under less than fortunate circumstances, but Rachel remembers her, and most of all, she remembers how brave Ms. Lang was throughout her testimony.
There is nothing about that day Rachel will forget.
She leans against the other side of the table, listening in for a minute before she realizes that might be rude. Then she offers up her small bag, containing an assortment of high-liters.
A hesitant smile quirks her mouth to the side. "Might this be of some assistance?"
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"-would have to consider an entire set of infectious diseases as possible contributors to a location's market value, not just the usual zombies," is the last point Dmitri made before SURPRISE! HILITERS!, and no, it only makes about that much sense in context. And then the aforementioned hiliters interrupt her train of thought, and... hey!
She glances up, recognizing the person there and blinking for a moment before she decides, hell, it's a good day, all are welcome despite the unfortunate circumstances of their meeting. She grins, accepting the offering warmly.
"DA Dawes," she says. "The countess of civil law in the Conrad Hotel of Chicago, I think these might just hit the spot," she says. "Hey, have a seat and tell us about your three favorite views of Lake Michigan."
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"Don't mind if I do, Ms Lang," Rachel says cheekily, plopping down onto one of the chairs. "How about I tell you of the one view that's blown the rest out of the water for me? The view from the John Hancock Observatory. Took a day off from being the countess to be a tourist instead. I should try doing that more often."
You never know when you're going to get another apocalypse, after all.
She smiles at the receptionist before her attention returns to Dmitri and the collage. "... Did you say something about zombies?"
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She shrugs.
"Still, though. I think it should be factored into the model. An establishment with a high level of defensibility against zombies or a zombie-disease outbreak would be correspondingly more likely to succeed in the Chicago market. What do you think?"
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"Plus," the receptionist chimes in, "I think if she were running the city, she'd be running the world in, like, three days, and then we'd all be eating tequila."
Dmitri elbows him. "Really, its the same principle as building in earthquake or flood resistance to areas prone to quakes and floodings. Only sensible - floods." Dmitri looks back to the receptionist again. "Chicago hasn't flooded yet, and it's not as if we don't have Lake Michigan right here. I think that pretty much rockets us right over the minimum logic threshold required to acknowledge something is possible." Back to Rachel. "...the minimum logic threshold is pretty low and doesn't even require strict adherence to the laws of physics, if you'd like to know."
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She wonders about Dmitri's personal philosophy, wonders about the lives of angels in general.
Rachel bites back a smile at the receptionist's reply, gaze falling back to the collages, studying them with interest.
She is fully aware the keyword here is yet. A frown is set into place as the wheels in her head turn. Rachel's a curious soul. She can't help but ask questions. "Of course I'd like to know. Consider me your audience. How does that work, exactly?"
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"Sounds fascinating," Rachel adds, and she's genuine. "Seems you do a lot of legwork of your own. I'd love to see your work or help in some way, if it's at all possible."
After agreeing solemnly with the receptionist--because yes, that would make one unforgettable business card--Rachel remains seated, all ears and mellow disposition, with only an inkling of amusement. Rachel loves knowledge. She loves questions, and she loves learning. To her credit, she manages to retain much of said three-minute breakdown, though she might look slightly dazed.
"You both deserve medals." She grins, handing Dmitri another highliter. "At the very least, lunch."
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She just so happens to live with a vengeance angel whose trigger is alcohol and that might not end very well.
"I really would like an introduction to offbeat world of journalism. Let me know when works best for you, and it's a date."
Rachel cants her head to the side. "Aside from my work within the supernatural community, should you ever want an introduction to the...persistent trials of a wanderer slash lawyer bulldozing her way into a Chicagoan courthouse, then I'd be glad to show you, as well."
The Order of the Conrad.
"It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Rachel says with a laugh. "Not to mention, there should be a shiny plaque to boot."
Voicing her agreement, she adds, "I know there's a tentative treaty between angels and demons, but I'm not sure how strongly that holds. There really should be some ( ... )
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"There's a page on the treaty in here somewhere..." the receptionist mutters, beginning to dig through the piles of paper laid out around him.
"I think traditionally, most supernatural honors were conferred by First Angels," Dmitri says. "'course, when has Chicago ever hewed to traditions?"
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