(1802) Cynthia and Katsumi

[Takeda Katsumi]

An acrid stench began to suffuse the air, a toxic bouquet that summoned images of rotting fish floating atop a polluted soup, and the Japanese haunt's nose curled in disgust. While it was true that, as a Demon, she no longer needed to breath to survive, she did need to breathe in order to speak.

Well, well. It seemed that her challenge was not to go unanswered.

"I merely attempt to be like the stone, and find the fastest route through the water," Takeda replied, turning to face the gothic predator whose face was a shadow of ancient drama held beneath lantern light.

[Cynthia Weiss]

Cynthia's head tilted slightly to the side. The haunt seemed to consider what she had said. "Sorry, I'm terrible with metaphors." She tried to joke. It was difficult under the woman's murderous gaze. "Then again, I thought you had to be water for that to work. Stones usually stay put and remain unchanged." She added with a shrug. The sensation was different from the feeling of a greater Beast, but hers was weak. There had been similar creatures in the past she had to remind herself. The curse was unforgiving for all.

"I wanted to talk to you. See how well you are settling in Sacramento. Its been a while since more Nosferatu arrived and I find out two more have come." Cynthia explained.

[Takeda Katsumi]

Takeda regarded the pale Demon warily, disbelieving that she would misunderstand such a simple metaphor. What was the Priscus playing at? This had to be in response to her challenge. But was this feigning of weakness to bait her into some sort of verbal trap, or was this merely intended to set her at ease?

Deru kugi wa utareru. A protruding nail will be hammered in.

No matter the Priscus' motivations, malevolent or not, it would be best not to provide her with anything that she could use.

"You humble me with your concern, Priscus Weiss, but I am finding Sacramento most accommodating."

Takeda paused, unsure how to continue, though, finally, she decided to venture something after all.

"Forgive my impertinence, Priscus Weiss, but do you happen to paint?"

[Cynthia Weiss]

Cynthia frowned slightly. She was not sure if Katsumi was too serious for humour or her own attempts at comedy were just terrible. Probably me.

"Ah. Good to know you are not having problems on that front." Cynthia said with a nod and a smile. "You been able to find shelter from the sun yet?" It took Cynthia months to lock down a haven in the warrens below. She was curious to see if she had more success than her.

The goth seemed to perk up at the mention of painting. This woman had her attention now. "Yes I do. Managed to make a living off of my art back when I was alive." She was not sure how this newcomer knew of this. Perhaps Alessandra mentioned something while she was not here. Maybe it was a lucky guess? "You as well?"

[Takeda Katsumi]

Ah. Now the trap became clear. It was the same one that the Reeve Prince had tried on Takeda when she'd first been acknowledged: feign concern, ask about the living arrangements, and ferret out an admission of squatting, if not worse.

She couldn't fault them, she supposed. She was an unknown entity, a stranger with a shadowed history, purpose, and capabilities. They would be remiss not to ensure that the newcomers did not threaten the stability of the Domain and its laws, and Takeda was glad to see that her Priscus was being diligent. She seemed to be a fascinating woman and Takeda was glad that she was being afforded the opportunity to learn more of her.

"Your concern for your clan distinguishes your virtuous character, Priscus. I have found that, when one possesses a certain amount of money, it is not difficult to arrange for shelter and privacy, even upon short notice," the bushi replied, confident that the implied accusation would now be put to rest.

"And yes, I do clumsily attempt to apply color to paper and canvas. I am sure a professional would find my work laughable, but I did happen to recognize the smell of turpentine on you. I assume you specialize in working with oils?"

It was a clumsy question, but Takeda was truly curious just what kind of art Cynthia did now. She specified that she only made a living with her art while alive, after all. Perhaps that meant her work was now of a more...provocative nature.

[Cynthia Weiss]

"Thank you. I'm just trying to live up to the expectations left by my predecessor." Cynthia said. She would have smiled if she had not heard what Katsumi followed up with. "Ah, I see. Well I hope you find somewhere more permanent if you are staying. We tend to draw attention where we go. Usually not the good kind." The Paranoia inspired by the Danse was tiresome and the vague answers moreso. Was this her existence now she was placed higher in the hierarchy?

"Practice helps I find. And with how long we exist for, You're gonna find a lot of spare time." The goth added. She did pause for a moment and brought her wrist up to her face. She took a deep breath and her face immediately gagged. Not Turpentine. At all. "I wouldn't trust anything you can smell on me." He managed to wheeze out. It was a rare moment the Curse affected even her. A few seconds passed before she recovered and could continue. "But to answer your question, I've dabbled in a bit of everything. Oils, watercolours." She wondered how much she knew and if she really was interested.

[Takeda Katsumi]

"If you would find it amusing, I would enjoy viewing your work. I would, of course, offer to show you mine, though I am sure it would not be worthy of your attention. Though, all this talk of art makes me curious. Does Sacramento have a strong artistic community? Is that what originally drew you here, Priscus Weiss?" Takeda asked, curious to see how much information her Priscus would be willing to share with her. It was only fair that Weiss answer some questions, too. She did seem to be asking quite a lot.

[Cynthia Weiss]

"I'm sure its not that terrible if you are willing to let others see it." Cynthia reassured the woman with a smile. "I have several pieces of my work hanging in my quarters in the Necropolis. Which reminds me, I'll have to show that to the two of you soon." She really needed to get the place organised. With decay was starting to set in, it was becoming less of a priority to maintain the Garbage Pit.

"I originally came here from San Francisco. Needed a change of scenery after a decade there and needed some new ideas for my work. I was actually surprised by the art scene here. Not as large, but it is certainly different enough to hold my attention." The haunted explained. She had not fully jumped into it yet, but it seemed promising and a few were becoming aware of her.

[Takeda Katsumi]

The Necropolis?

Fascinating. Takeda had wondered if Sacramento had had one. The Domain seemed to be largely...empty given the size of the city, and yet it was not contested by any other borders or rival princelings. So why the Necropolis? Was it simply a relic from times past, when prejudice and overpopulation had forced her clan into the bowels of the city, or was this merely a vestigial tradition that her clan practiced here?

Perhaps it was both, or perhaps it was simply preparation for troubled times ahead.

Regardless, Takeda's interest was aroused and she found herself leaning closer to her Priscus, no matter the foul smell that seemed to leak from the woman.

"I would be very interested to view those paintings," she declared, her voice soft, though intent.

Takeda seemed to catch herself, though, and let her weight settle more evenly as she leaned back to a more pleasant, and discreet, distance. She hoped that the pale haunt was perceptive enough to understand her expression of interest, but even if that was not the case, tonight was not the night to be any more obvious, and so Takeda settled back into the more conventional part of their discussion.

"Almost a year ago, I read an article about a group of artists here in Sacramento. They were sponsored by a local gallery,
the Gutenberg Gallery, and according to most sources, they were spectacular in their chosen fields. However, something happened. Their communal house burned, the majority of their work was destroyed, and the survivors were committed to a mental hospital in town. But,
the tragedy did not end there. A fire claimed their wing of the mental hospital, and they all died of smoke inhalation. Is that, perhaps, what helped to capture your attention?"

The Killers voice was entirely pleasant, though it was clear from something in Takeda's demeanor that she expected the other Haunt to say 'yes'.

[Cynthia Weiss]

Cynthia smiled. "Well then. I'll see what I can do." She was unsure how genuine the murderous maiden was. But this was court. Everyone worried about every word that comes out of their mouth here, even in friendly company.

An eyebrow was raised. She was not expecting a morbid tale of death and destruction. "Haven't heard that one." She admitted with a frown, vaguely aware this was not what she wanted to hear. "There is a lot I don't know about this city. And people are not exactly in a rush to tell me anything." Bitterness had seeped into her voice. The past and recent events gnawed at her even as the air seemed to twist to something that smelled faintly of mustard. Her head tilted to the side as she thought on what she had been told. "Does sound intriguing though. That article mention anything else?" Curiosity was starting to take over. Any distraction welcome.