Pressed Coffee & Records

[Adeline Martin]

She nodded. "I like refined Art as well, but I don't know anyone in that business directly to get a good feel for upcoming artists to buy. Eventually I plan to have that corner ear marked, but for now I have to focus on creating direct ties in this community for my business. I have done the really hard part: Which is going out on the road for years to make the kind of connections that would allow me to have work all across the country." She paused and looked thoughtful, watching Alessandra. "Now I want a stable base of operations and an actual home."
Now she was also ready for all of that. For the longest time, she had had a wild hair stuck up her ass.

"Habits are wonderful when they are excellent." She said with a small smile. "The only reason I recognize that composer is because I play piano and sing. I've done some covers and even performed live for company audiences. Sometimes that was the only coin of the particular realm they wanted, while I was traveling. Trading on minor talent isn't bad at all. I enjoyed that."
Better than the extreme tithing some greedy fucks demanded.

She looked over at the Album offered, and took if from Alessandra nodding. "Funny that the same band that thought a zipper fly was cool on a record, would inspire such amazing covers, right?" She put it under her arm. She loved 'Paint it Black'. She was open to all covers of that song especially. "Thank you!"

"This is a little fringe but did you ever hear Morrison's spoken poetry? The ones he released in 1971? I have those on Record. One copy I have for myself to listen to and the other is in storage." That was worth quite a bit now as she had the original vinyl. As she had most of the original vinyl from the 60's, 70's.

[Alessandra]

Didn’t sound like a someone the Savage would be doing business with. Which suited her just fine, she was careful about who she brought in on her investments. Also, she wasn’t looking to talk business. Neither sides of her own.

If she was looking for the Italian to be impressed or discuss her own playing of the instrument, she would be disappointed. It was a talent she kept to herself, and those she considered worthy of her performances. “Always good to have talents to fall back on should the need arise.” She came from money, so it had never been a concern for her. Though most of her Danse was spent on the road, without money, but she didn’t need it to thrive, never did.

Thinking for a moment, “I think there are some bands who do a much better job with a song then the original band did. But I suppose it also depends on the spin the cover puts on it, Hidden Citizans for example, all a darker more intense feel that the original lacks.” To her anyways, then a simple nod, “Prego.”

“Poetry has never been something I’ve been able to get into. Maybe I haven’t heard anything good or that truly catches my attention.” She had always been more about music then the spoken word. Realizing her guard was still up, and for good reason, “Perhaps one evening I’ll get the time to give it a listen.”

[Albert Baker]

And once again it was a night of business, even though it happened to be more pleasureable business than usually. Sometimes the modern times were quite amazing, especially the locations that could be found on the Internet. Al thought his collection of records could use an extension and it was a good reason of getting out of the house as well... Perhaps he could get a cup of tea or two out of it and maybe even a chat with someone he knew, if he was lucky...

With the shopping list written and dressed in a grey tweed suit with brown shoes, a dark blue tie with two vertical red stripes and a dark green cardigan he entered the shop and immediately froze as he noticed somthing he hadn't really expected: not just one of his kind, but two and far more powerful than him as if that wasn't enough.

After several moments of silent prayers to keep him from turning around and shuffling out, he slowly shuffled further into the room, having forced himself to appear as alive as he could look (which was rather a sickly pallor combined with audible breathing problems) and slowly walked closer to the pair of ladies already present.

"Good evening, ladies."

[Adeline Martin]

Color Adeline disappointed. When someone names a 19th century composer, you would at least think they had an interest in the instrument. Especially when they feature one in their Elysium. Apparently 1+1= zilch. So much for the hope of finding a mentor who could lend a critical ear. Maybe get her to the next level that so far, she hadn’t been able to truly obtain. It was rare to find Kindred who actively played, and even rarer ones who dared play publicly. There was inherent risk involved in performing. No matter how many times you have played a piece, there was always room to bomb a performance.


“Oh I don’t know about that. Falling back on something implies you are great at it. I am good. I would need someone with a real ear for it, or who played themselves to get me through my inherent block.” She waved a hand. “I’m a work in progress all around I suppose.” There were worse things to be.


“True. Paint it Black, the Original, is pretty lackluster. It sounds as if they were scared to push their own envelope, ya’know. Step out a bit from their normal sound.” Or maybe it was just the 60’s. “The writing was superb.” She chuckled. “Obviously. Otherwise there wouldn’t be so many amazing covers out to date.”


“I first became enthralled with poetry from the works of Jim Carroll. The first thing I read by him was his autobiographical work “The Basketball Diaries,” which was published in 1978. It was eventually picked up by Hollywood in 1995 as a major motion picture. He also had a band, you can check out. The ‘Jim Carroll Band with their most popular song being ‘People who died.’ in 1980.”


She held up her fingers and made the ‘quote’ motion, and recited a bit for Alessandra. “There will always be a poem I will climb on top of it and come/In and out of time/Cocking my head to the side slightly/As I finish shaking, melting then/Into its body, its soft skin/is not a lie.”


The smile faltered for just a second as her gaze suddenly snapped past Alessandra to the approaching predator. Blood. Teeth. Claws. NOW. She felt the urge to attack, of course this was the third time she had seen Baker, and those thoughts drained away as did the urge.


“Good evening! How lovely to see a fellow record enthusiast!”

[Alessandra]

Now there was someone she never expected to see outside of Elysia. As her Beast paced with determination, she offered a slight smile to the Shadow.

“Dr Baker, how nice to see you.” She half debated asking how their ‘friend’ was doing, knowing her time was up. But decides against it, she didn’t want to deal with business. "How are you doing tonight?"

Back to the Ventrue, “Not necessarily, at least, in my opinion. Having something to fall back on means you have the ability to do something to keep yourself alive. Talent is subjective, what is beautiful music to one, is simply noise to another. Just about finding your audience.” Could the Savage fall back on her talents for classical music? Yes. But she wouldn’t. Though it still made her a tad smug when others observed a Savage with true talent for something other than rending flesh from bone.

“It could also be the time they released it. There was a lot going on in the world and people were beginning to come into themselves. Add to that the numerous interpretations of what the song writers are trying to say, and you’ve set the stage for many artists to give it a go.” Sure, she’d read what the original artists were trying to portray, but music, and lyrics, were about what it made the listener feel.

“I’m always willing to give new music a chance. Though I’m afraid you’ll mostly find classical music in my library.” Change was hard for her, she liked what she liked and what made her comfortable. “But I’ll give it a listen” Maybe…. depended on her mood.

Poetry, again, was not her thing.

“There is only one poem I know by heart.” Now lets see if she can manage it in English, well, a small, very small part of it.

‘“And I — my head oppressed by horror — said:
"Master, what is it that I hear? Who are
those people so defeated by their pain?"
And he to me: "This miserable way
is taken by the sorry souls of those
who lived without disgrace and without praise.
They now commingle with the coward angels,
the company of those who were not rebels
nor faithful to their God, but stood apart.
The heavens, that their beauty not be lessened,
have cast them out, nor will deep Hell receive them —
even the wicked cannot glory in them.”

“It’s more beautiful in Italian of course.” Most things were.

[Albert Baker]

Al returned the smiles, strictly according to rank, though he didn't know the 'public name' of the prince, which might cause a problem.

"Thank you, I'm quite well. I do hope you are as well."

After a small pause he turned to Adeline.

"Indeed it is, Ms. Martin. Astonishing what can all be found on the Internet. I didn't know this place existed."

He listened politely when the topic of music was discussed by example of the Rolling Stones. He hadn't much to contribute to that, as it wasn't the kind of music he preferred.

"Ah, the Rolling Stones... A controversial band with controversial songs from a controversial time... Not my cup of tea, I rather prefer opera, classical music and jazz, but to each his own."

He was rather glad it was 'only' the Stones and not the kind of noise adolescents seemed to be fond of these days. That was an entirely different matter.

Listening to the poems he went to get himself a cup of tea.

"Would you excuse for a moment, I'll get myself a cup of tea and will be right back with you."

[Adeline Martin]

Her expression began neutral with her engagement as Alessandra gave her opinion on falling back on a talent, but slowly turned into a soft smile. The Lord looked almost nostalgic for a moment before nodding in agreement. “I agree completely.”


“See! You read my mind! It was the 60’s! So many tunes from that time period have been covered better than the original artist!” She grinned that someone else saw it too. Finally! Someone she could talk about this with who wouldn’t argue that the original had some magic fucking charm to it. Nooooooooo. It didn’t!


“Hey! I love classical music…..” she paused a second and then grinned, and snapped her fingers energetically. “You just gave me an idea for how to get over my little block I got going on!” She paused for effect. “Drown myself in classical music to help get inspired. Go back to the basics, then try my covers again!” HA! Great idea!


She listened to the part of the poem that Alessandra quoted and nodded. “That is lovely! Thank you for sharing that! I can only imagine the impact it has in Italian!” She paused and mused for a moment. “I remember the first time I was roped into going to an Opera. I was sure I would hate it, but ended up absolutely loving it! Even though I don’t speak a word of Italian, the music and drama was so pronounced that I could understand perfectly what was happening.” She would never forget it! “Now, I shared that to illustrate that I get what you are saying about the poem being more powerful in the original language.” She also looked to Priscus Baker on that one, to make sure she included him since he had expressed an interest in Opera.


She looked at Priscus Baker with a warm smile nodding. “I too enjoy those genres, but I also like modern music of all types! Everything from FogHat to Adele and Godsmack and VNV Nation. I really like it all. Except for maybe polka or folk music.” You had to draw the line somewhere.

[Circe]

Circe had decided to see if the music made up for the lesser quality of coffee. She was going lower profile tonight, no suit. Denim, a nice jacket, and rocking a t-shirt with a motto she adored. Plus some lovely accessories she enjoyed like her little copper wire crafted necklace, a stylish pair of glasses to give her darker hair and now brown eyes, and things she'd not show without serious problems happening.


The music had been good, but the coffee? Meh, Sera was better. Didn't stop her from having a cup to drink.


But lo and behold, there was someone she recognized. Lady De Luca, quoting Italian poetry though in English. Well, she had to defend the heritage did she not? Italian cosa nostra and opera was a thing she recalled, even if her ears didn't take to it so much now. Circe sips the acceptable coffee and heads over to the trio turned duo at the table. She doesn't sit her ass down, but does start talking whilst standing beside the table with a smirk.

"Surprising to hear," her Italian accent is clear, "A familiar accent to my ear. Lady De Luca," Circe gives a nod and should bow of respect to the stellar and powerful customer of her coworkers. Not someone to be rude to, "And I heard ya say it sounds better in Italian? Sicuramente è vero," she smiles in approval. "Hope I'm not guilty of intruding, on this musical transaction," the Summer Queen quoting another genre, but was it intentional? "Public trading or private?"

More like setting up a request to join the group. Bored she may be, but Miss Mary would vaffanculo if De Luca didn't want her around.

[Alessandra]

“Oh, I can’t complain, looking forward to the weather warming up.” Technically it didn’t matter to her, but it was appropriate conversation around cattle.

Smiling to the Shadow, “I also prefer classical.” Common interest, always good.

“Sure.” He didn’t need her permission, though maybe he was worried he did? Eh.

An eyebrow was raised, “I did?” guess that was good. “Not sure if one drowns in classical, it’s more of a relaxing river ride.” Also good to clean your guns to.

A slight grimace, “I was never able to get into opera, no matter how much my mother insisted I learn to love it.” A shake of her head, “Just not my thing. Sometimes the beauty of the words is lost in translation. People have tried over the years to portray the same message, yet they always fail. Maybe the magic or mystery of the language?” a shrug, “Who knows.” But some were drawn to foreign languages and how they sounded. Sometimes made find dinner fun when she didn’t want the usual.

At the familiar voice, she turns to look, a smile spreading across her lips, “Why if it isn’t Miss Mary, I haven’t talked to you in what feels like ages. How are you?” pausing, “You know you can call me Sofia, this isn’t a business meeting.” But, whatever. Chuckling, “Many things do,” a nod, “many things do.” She missed talking with Twist in Italian. “Not at all, we’re just all sharing our musical interests, feel free to join us.”

[Albert Baker]

Al returned after a while and a bit of a discussion about the 'right' way to percolate good tea with a pot of tea which he carefully sat down before getting seated himself. Upon looking up he noticed there was an addition to those he had spoken with. Thus he took the time to get up and greet her.

"Good evening to you, I'm Dr. Baker. Nice to meet you."

Then he continued the discussion with a slight smile.

"I beg your pardon, Ms Martin, but I don't know any of the... artists? you mentioned. Perhaps I could use some lessons in modern music."

Then he turned to the other topic of the conversation: opera.

"I don't know if it's inherently the language, though it might be that the originals are better than attempts to translate them. I have tried both Verdi and Wagner translated and it just... wasn't the same. Perhaps it would help if I actually spoke Italian or German but I doubt it"