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Edwin slipped his hand into his vest's pocket with a smile, taking out half a dozen cards and happily passing them across to Konrad. "That'll be helpful, much obliged, Konrad."
Was it a matter of trust? Certainly but from what he'd gathered in this brief meeting was the closest Edwin had come to a kindred (no pun intended) spirit. Maybe with more nights, they could build on this trust.
"Alright, changing subjects now," the Lord said, seeking answers to important questions. "Favourite movie?"
Taking the few cards given to him, Konrad slips them into his coat pocket for later. "I'll tell 'em to say 'Konrad sent me' so you know they're from me." In the case Konrad does happen to refer a client, he hopes the tattoo artist isn't just talk. Nothing like a bad tattoo job to earn a contact's displeasure. "You know I think I would be interested in getting a design done, just to check out your skill, and maybe for the experience too."
As the conversation transitions to different tastes, Konrad humors Edwin with an answer. "Ocean's Eleven. Original Rat Pack. Nothing like the classics. Everything these days is pale imitation." For some reason the films Konrad remembers from his mortal life left a bigger impression than the films he saw after. Now everything had a different light cast upon it, different eyes that just saw the red-tinted Blood. But there were still good ones, stuff that could make him laugh, make him melancholy, make him angry. "You?"
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"Cool. At the moment, I'm pretty mobile with my kit, so I can come to wherever to work," Edwin nodded. "If you got anything in mind, bring it along. If you want something new, then I'll need to design it from scratch but that's no problem."
"The Warriors," the Lord grinned before leaning forward so only Konrad could hear. "It was my life on celluloid!" he laughed before sitting back and shrugging. "Sure, its not a classic like Ocean's Eleven or...Star Wars, but its grown quite a cult following."
"I quite like that," Edwin added after a pause, wondering if Konrad would pick up on his clumsy meaning.
Konrad tries to recall the movie. He has heard of it, that there was some controversy around the film involving gang warfare, but he hasn't seen it. "Oh? What's the premise?" he asks, feigning ignorance.
As for the tattoo design, Konrad isn't at all sure what sort of design he would want. Probably something to test Edwin's skills. Lettering, imagery, color perhaps. He would have to give it some thought and gather the resources Edwin has requested.
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"A city full of gangs meet up in Pelham Bay Park under a banner of truce only for the main man, Cyrus, the biggest, baddest motherfucker in the city gets shot, and the titular Warriors are framed for his murder! Only nine of them, they must survive the night and return back to Coney Island. Along the way, they find the meaning of brotherhood, of respect and loyalty. It really is a great movie."
"Although, I do also love Blade Runner but not the original release. That was pretty fucked. The Director's Cut's where its at," Edwin said, thinking more about his choice. "Hel, if its out there, I quite like it," he added with a chuckle.
The Savage listens to the synopsis with interest, imagining how a movie like that might inspire a young man on the streets.
"Quite the moviegoer, I take it?" remarks Konrad, still holding on to a full cocktail of gin, Cointreau, Lillet, and lemon juice. "Cinema makes things pretty exciting. Even more so these days. The people can't get enough of it. They demand to be stimulated. But everything traces back to the base conflicts. Betrayal, murder, trust," Konrad uncurls a finger as he counts these off. "Conflict reveals your true nature. When the chips are down, that crucial moment, who are you, who am I? Only way to find out is to take that risk. Like your Warriors, they were all in the same boat and they survived by sticking together. Watching each other's backs."
He speaks casually of these ideas like an objective observation. But he's making a point too. "Hope you've got someone to watch your back when the chips are down, Eddie. Then again, this ain't the movies."
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Edwin took in Konrad's words and had to agree. He'd never been part of a coterie, perhaps out of some misguided thoughts that any of his fellows would stab him in the back at the first indiscretion. Which was probably true but without others, what was the point of his Requiem.
The Lord grinned. "Perhaps that's something else I need to work on," he replied with a raspy chuckle. He'd met some interesting people since arriving in the city but for the first time, had he met a like-minded spirit?
Maybe so.
"How about you, Konrad? Got anyone to watch your back?"
"Well, I've got one, but there's only so far they can get involved. More like a personal assistant, so-to-speak. But what I'd like is someone who knows the game and is willing to play it." Konrad looks thoughtfully as his drink and scratches the back of his neck as he mulls over something. "Kinda hard to be more specific in public like this. But I think you know what I'm getting at. Just after one night I can tell there's a lot of big players in this city. So, you know, I scratch your back you scratch mine? But we can talk about that another time maybe."
Konrad couldn't tell how open to the idea Edwin is, but he isn't going to get far just dancing around the topic. They would probably have a more open discussion about it when Konrad meets up with him for this tattoo session. "Anyways, I think that's all I'm able to say on that subject. You curious about anything else? Favorite drink maybe?" Cause I'm partial to blondes.
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"Another time," Edwin repeated, cocking his head at future possibilities. Perhaps after several months of gaining his feet, it was time to start walking. The fact he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Priscus Galloway for a couple of months meant there was a vacuum to fill. Since the Hierophant position was lost to someone more experienced, perhaps being a go to for Lords would be up his street; Albeit a filthy and gang-ridden one.
Priscus Bridges. Sounds good.
"Favourite drink?" the Lord muttered with a grin before holding up the bottle. "Something full of flavour." Hazel eyes turned to the beer. "Certainly not this weak-ass shit!" he added with an honest laugh. "I definitely like full bodied."
Konrad adds his chuckle to the laughter between them. "I hear that," he says, raising the glass cocktail. They share in the knowledge of their accursed nature, even taking joy in the fact. For Konrad at least, he feels the Beast hungering in the periphery of his mind, the desire to sink his fangs into the neck of each dolled-up passerby. Or leaping across the table at this new colleague and seeing what sort of stuff he is really made of. But the need to challenge has lessened since he first arrived. The Beast would have to find new prey elsewhere.
"Well thanks for the company, Edwin. I'm going to head out but I'll be seeing you around. Let me think on that tattoo design. I've got your number, how about I give you mine?" On a napkin, Konrad scribbles out his digits for his prepaid mobile before sliding it to the Lord.
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