002: Of keeping on keeping on, and other things [holo+teal deer], backdated to yesterday
One thing you learn real fast as a vampire is that change comes a lot quicker than you expect it to. You have to learn how to adapt to the world around you whether you stay on the outskirts of society or try your best to blend in right in the thick of it. It's not your world, no matter how many of your kin have amassed wealth and power over time. It's still very much the world of the living. It belongs to humans, and humans change constantly. Music and fashion go out of style faster and faster, politics change, even right and wrong changes constantly. Just because you could live forever, doesn't mean you're prepared for the world spinning faster and faster until it leaves you dizzy.
You learn to adapt, or you end up dead. One way or the other, we all die. We all have to change.
Since coming to Taxon, Mick's been busy scoping out the vast city in his car. If there weren't for the stars dotting the darkened skies of his nightly rides, and if the architecture was just a bit less jumbled, it would almost be just like home. Just like Los Angeles.
It's funny how you grow attached to places. Feels like from one day to the next, the place you go to sleep turns into a home. And now he was in a strange place; a stranger in a strange new world and nothing but unfamiliar faces.
It was Gwen who'd used that term, not him, but he couldn't help but feel it resonate days after their conversation. He didn't have a home that first day and night, much less a place to sleep, and no one to really talk to. No best friend telling him he needs to stop hating what he is. No complicated friendship-turned-partnership or the other way around with the girl he once saved from certain death.
No contacts, no home, no office.
The first morning after his arrival, Mick made his way to an electronics store (not so aptly named TaxFree! in big, bold lettering). Furthermore, if it was a pun, it wasn't a very good one) a bit away from the city center. There he bought himself a freezer chest large enough to fit a man, literally, and had his first real face to face encounter with what the real people called Extras.
...friendly things, but more in a weirdly automaton, semi-sentient way. They were more than helpful, and agreed to deliver the freezer to an address of his choice once he had settled in.
Yeah. 'Settle in' gets a whole new meaning when you just pick a place to squat and all of a sudden it's yours. And that's what he did. He picked a spot (C4, A1 on the 3D map) in Wilde, overlooking a lake with a weird castle type thing sitting smack dab in the southern end of the water.
And then it was a matter of getting the freezer box installed, pack a bunch of stuff he didn't care for in cardboard boxes and label said boxes 'CHARITY' - even though he didn't know if there was such a thing here. Yet. He had to figure out a lot of stuff.
Like how much blood he could hatch in a month without heading straight into personal bankruptcy.
So, he had been busy, opting to set up office at the front end of his second story flat rather than doing the math on claiming two of them. The credits kept dwindling, and fast. Two bedrooms were more than enough for him and his freezer, and the living room was spacious enough that he could squeeze in a desk as well as a couch and armchair set. He'd get an A/V system next month - if he was here still - but for now he'd settled on a radio.
He was dealing with his situation the way he saw fit. Set up office, carry on business as usual, and maybe, just maybe, he could figure out how to get the bat out of Hell out of here.
But first, an announcement. He picked up his tablet (which he still preferred to think of as an iPad), set the feed to [holo] and started transmitting, giving those watching a nice panoramic view of the office/living room.
"Mick St. John here, everyone. This is an official announcement to let you guys know a bit about me in a professional capacity. I'm a private investigator, and this is my new office and living space, which you'll find on your maps." He turns his tablet back on himself with a small grin. "I've seen it all. Or I had until I came here. So, what do you say we pool our resources, try to figure out what's going on and how to get out of here?"
He pauses, cocks his head, then adds: "Or barring that, point me in the direction of the one-oh-one?"
You learn to adapt, or you end up dead. One way or the other, we all die. We all have to change.
Since coming to Taxon, Mick's been busy scoping out the vast city in his car. If there weren't for the stars dotting the darkened skies of his nightly rides, and if the architecture was just a bit less jumbled, it would almost be just like home. Just like Los Angeles.
It's funny how you grow attached to places. Feels like from one day to the next, the place you go to sleep turns into a home. And now he was in a strange place; a stranger in a strange new world and nothing but unfamiliar faces.
It was Gwen who'd used that term, not him, but he couldn't help but feel it resonate days after their conversation. He didn't have a home that first day and night, much less a place to sleep, and no one to really talk to. No best friend telling him he needs to stop hating what he is. No complicated friendship-turned-partnership or the other way around with the girl he once saved from certain death.
No contacts, no home, no office.
The first morning after his arrival, Mick made his way to an electronics store (not so aptly named TaxFree! in big, bold lettering). Furthermore, if it was a pun, it wasn't a very good one) a bit away from the city center. There he bought himself a freezer chest large enough to fit a man, literally, and had his first real face to face encounter with what the real people called Extras.
...friendly things, but more in a weirdly automaton, semi-sentient way. They were more than helpful, and agreed to deliver the freezer to an address of his choice once he had settled in.
Yeah. 'Settle in' gets a whole new meaning when you just pick a place to squat and all of a sudden it's yours. And that's what he did. He picked a spot (C4, A1 on the 3D map) in Wilde, overlooking a lake with a weird castle type thing sitting smack dab in the southern end of the water.
And then it was a matter of getting the freezer box installed, pack a bunch of stuff he didn't care for in cardboard boxes and label said boxes 'CHARITY' - even though he didn't know if there was such a thing here. Yet. He had to figure out a lot of stuff.
Like how much blood he could hatch in a month without heading straight into personal bankruptcy.
So, he had been busy, opting to set up office at the front end of his second story flat rather than doing the math on claiming two of them. The credits kept dwindling, and fast. Two bedrooms were more than enough for him and his freezer, and the living room was spacious enough that he could squeeze in a desk as well as a couch and armchair set. He'd get an A/V system next month - if he was here still - but for now he'd settled on a radio.
He was dealing with his situation the way he saw fit. Set up office, carry on business as usual, and maybe, just maybe, he could figure out how to get the bat out of Hell out of here.
But first, an announcement. He picked up his tablet (which he still preferred to think of as an iPad), set the feed to [holo] and started transmitting, giving those watching a nice panoramic view of the office/living room.
"Mick St. John here, everyone. This is an official announcement to let you guys know a bit about me in a professional capacity. I'm a private investigator, and this is my new office and living space, which you'll find on your maps." He turns his tablet back on himself with a small grin. "I've seen it all. Or I had until I came here. So, what do you say we pool our resources, try to figure out what's going on and how to get out of here?"
He pauses, cocks his head, then adds: "Or barring that, point me in the direction of the one-oh-one?"