multiversallogs | We are free and we are perfect when Lady Stardust sings. [Open]

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We are free and we are perfect when Lady Stardust sings. [Open]

Who: Kaitlyn and ~YOU~!
What: Exploring, job hunting, playing music for change, generally getting more familiar with Baedal and finding ways to get into trouble.
Where: Just about anywhere in the eastern half of Baedal, but particularly in Mog Hill and Dog Fenn
When: All weekend!
Notes: Kaitlyn’s gotten into a bit of a pattern over the last week as she explores and learns more about Baedal, so pick a decent spot and time just about anywhere in Baedal and run with it! She’s spending most of her time in the eastern parts of Baedal, particularly Mog Hill and Dog Fenn, but it wouldn’t be exploring if she didn’t venture elsewhere. So feel free to bump into and/or accost her :D
Warnings: TBD, but none at the moment.

Settling in to new places has never been particularly hard for Kaitlyn. And so far, Baedal’s only been slightly harder than the norm, in large part do to the still stinging lack of all her music and instruments. But it’s not like she had all her nice things when she moved to New York anyway, so she’ll get by. Or at least she seems to think so.

It doesn’t really hurt that she’s already settled into a bit of a pattern for how she’s choosing to spend her days. Mornings spent looking for a job or doing whatever odd jobs she can find so that she can keep a roof over her head and at least some food in her stomach. That’s really the hardest part, but if nothing else, determination is keeping her going for the time being.

When she's not spending her time being responsible, however, she's largely taking Stephanie up on her advice and exploring her new (temporary[?]) home of Baedal, trying to get the lay of the land a bit, at least more so that vague answers from townspeople and maps give her. New York City, even in the state it had been in when she left, was a place she'd become fairly intimately familiar with for all the wrong reasons, but now being in a place where she doesn't know what alleys she duck down, where friends and helpful people can be found, and places she can hide if she needs to is a little unnerving. And there's probably better ways she could go about fixing this, but those aren't any fun, now are they?

Which really hasn't left her much time for anything really fun, but so it goes when you're new and jobless. Still, she's already found a good way to spend time when she gets tired or bored - making her way to Main Street Park, parking herself on a bench, and playing her guitar in the hopes that someone will toss some change into that case of her. It's been a long time since she really had to play the part of street performer, but hey, everyone's gotta do something. At least hers is pretty damn fun, at least for now.

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Odessa's known Kaitlyn's been in town for a while.

It drove her into a bit of an unreasonable rage that she indulged in for several minutes of throwing things about her small apartment. Then, she started thinking about the pros of the other woman's presence. There were far, far worse people who could show up here. Even if the implication that if Kaitlyn Quinn could be here, it means others of her ilk might show up too is one Odessa finds particularly terrifying.

But Quinn is predictable, if you have the benefit of already knowing a little bit about her. It wasn't difficult for Odessa to track the musician down in the park with her guitar. Tigers. Stripes.

"Kaitlyn, Kaitlyn, Kaitlyn Quinn." The former resident doctor's voice should at least be distantly familiar. Rumours of her demise having been debunked helps, generally. "So very, very far away from your Glass Wonderland." There's no sound of approach, thanks to her ability. One moment there isn't anyone at Kaitlyn's back, the next moment there is. Odessa folds her arms along the back of the bench, hooking her chin over the guitarist's left shoulder, the side of her face almost affectionately nuzzled against that red hair.

"You have my cat."

Guess what, I'm done
Writing your book
The ending got twisted around
But for all the hell that it took
The electrical wires
They'll hum in th--

Kaitlyn had been playing rather peacefully, letting off some of the steam of the day while at the same time trying to make a few dollars at the same time. It always made for a good way to pass a late afternoon, even if she was usually disappointed by the amount to be found in her guitar case afterwards.

But the sudden presence at her shoulder and addressment gets her to stop abruptly, nearly jumping out of her skin. She had been far too absorbed in her guitar playing and singing to not be surprised, even if Odessa hadn't just spontaneously appeared behind her. A hand to her chest as she recovers from being startled, her head turns so that she can suspiciously eye the person perched on her shoulder. There's a whole bunch of red flags that Kaitlyn's just starting to process - no one here should know the name of her album.

"What?" The voice is really what strikes her as familiar, even if she only is somewhat familiar with her. A moment, and she tilts her head. "Hey! Wait a second, I know you!" Well, obviously. "Odessa... what was it? Parker Prince? Pierce? Price?" Something that started with a P, she's pertty sure. Or maybe that was one of the aliases Kait had heard about. "What are you doing here?" Comments about cats go unnoticed, for now.

A thin smile doesn't reach her eyes, and causes the scar across her mouth to look a deeper ravine than it's already cut. "It's Wander these days," she corrects coolly. "You read the lovely introduction material. Obviously I was chosen to be here." If one decides to believe that that's the case, and that it isn't a cosmic fluke of some sort. Odessa's self-centred enough to truly love the idea that the Gods chose her.

"Obviously somebody decided this place needs a starving artist with lofty ideals."

That's a little more accurate than Kait is comfortable with, the whole starving artist thing. Her expression sours a bit as she shifts in her seat so that she has a better view of Odessa. "Wander," she repeats a bit sceptically. "It fits." It's hard to tell if that's back handed or not since it's delivered with a smile and a wink, but there's a chance it could be. "Either way, I'm surprised t' see you here. Much less talking t' me." Really, Kaitlyn is surprised to see her at all, given the less than favourable stories she heard.

Setting the guitar aside, she sighs, shaking her head at the blonde. "I have no idea why I'm here, but I'm not getting my hopes up on that whole chosen one thing. Hell, I'm still not convinced this isn't some time traveller or something playing a trick on me. On us, I guess."

Obviously she's not the chosen one. That much should be perfectly plain to anyone, and Odessa doesn't at all think she's cruel for thinking so. A year or so ago, the two women may have become friends, but brewing civil war and opposing factions have a way of driving a wedge between people and shattering possibilities.

"I wouldn't guess it's a time traveller," the blonde admits. "I've been around that block a few times. I've seen no evidence to suggest that this situation is remotely similar. This is something else. Something... Cosmic, if you will."

Kaitlyn can't huff out a bit of a breath as she slumps in her seat. "You an' me both. But I dunno, I mean, I had the 'pleasure' of goin' back t' victorian times, so you never know. Futures have been weirder." This is something Kait assumes they both know, given their semi-shared experiences likely comes from the same sources.

But for all the wedging that may exist between them, Kaitlyn doesn't seem too put off, though not exactly jumping with excitement to talk to Odessa. "But yeah, cosmic was kinda what I heard from someone else. Something about her living in a world where there's superheroes and powers and the government doesn't hate them. Doesn't that sound grand?" She's not entirely joking either, quirking a curious eyebrow Odessa's way.

She gives a small shrug. one hand reaching to pluck at guitar strings. "So. I assume you've been up t' no good?" is somewhat joking, but also rather blunt. And given what Kait knows about her, it sounds right on the mark.

There's a strong temptation to engage in a pissing match over whose forays into the past or visions of the future were objectively worse. Ultimately, it doesn't matter here, and certainly not to anyone but the two of them. Normally, this would be all the motivation Odessa requires, but she's trying to be a changed woman. Victorian times. Whatever, Quinn.

"It sounds like a lie to me." The notion of respect from those who have not (the non-Evolved in this case) is one that she firmly believes to be little more than a vain hope. Fear is something more realistic. They may not respect the Evolved, but by God they can be taught to fear them.

At being asked if she's up to no good, she smiles thinly. "I've been on my best behaviour. I haven't even begun to plan out how I might rack up a body count." Liar. Sort of. Thoughts aren't crimes. Not quite anyway.

A pissing match hadn't really been Kaitlyn's goal, so it's probably for the best that things don't go that route. Instead, Kaitlyn looks over at Odessa with a quirked eyebrow, studying her for a second. "You think?" she inquired, sounding genuinely curious. "I kinda thought that for a bit. I mean, she mentioned knowing a martian. That's... pretty out there."

Kaitlyn focuses her attention wholly on Odessa, eyes narrowing a bit. "But if this is possible? I'm willing t' bet a place where people with powers aren't hated an' there's even super heroes is possible too." She sounds firm in this belief. Everything can't be as bad as back home, right.

That seriousness melts away after a moment, and she shrugs, turning back to face on ahead with a grin on her face. "Yeah, and I haven't begun thinking up a new song," she teases, and it really is just that. Though she really does hope Odessa isn't planning trouble. "How long've you been here, anyway?" Maybe this is why she hadn't heard anything about her in a while back home. "I mean, this place just... plucked me up. I'm curious if it was around the same time."

Irene likes music. She's a trained singer as well as an actress, and she has a good ear. She's the sort of person who will stop for street musicians when not busy, which is exactly what she does now, coming to a standstill and making no attempt to look as if she's paying attention to anything but the music. There's no fiddling with her CiD or gazing off into the distance; she looks right at Kaitlyn. After all, a musician has to deal with an audience, right?

Irene's an appreciative audience, though, enjoying (briefly) being the observer rather than the performer. There's a smile on her lips, one hand cupping an elbow, the fingers of the other against her own cheek- posed (no one really stands like that in real life, do they?) and attentive.

"I don't care if Monday's black
Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack
Thursday never looking back
It's Friday I'm in love

Monday you can hold your head
Tuesday, Wednesday stay in bed
Or Thursday watch the walls instead
It's Friday I'm in love

Saturday wait
And sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate..."

It seems, for all intents and purposes, Kaitlyn is lost in the music she's playing, at least at first. Irene isn't the only observer, there's two other folks, but it's about halfway through the song that Kaitlyn finally looks up from her guitar and notices the one woman who seems to really be paying attention, rather than killing time watching the random new person playing guitar in the park.

A smile is flashed at Irene, now the focus of Kaitlyn's attention as she continues playing through the rest of the song with that smile on her face, steadily growing as she reaches the end. When she plucks the last cord, she sighs and leans forward, arms draped over her guitar. "Hope you enjoyed the song," is really directed at everyone there, but with the way that half grin of hers lands squarely on Irene, she wouldn't blame Irene if she though she was talking directly to her.

"Rather a lot."

Irene's expression changes from thoughtful to grinning and she slips the straps of her bag from her shoulder to pull out her purse, chatting as she does so; "I used to be mad about the Cure." She was thirteen when that song came out but let's not mention it-- "Then again, most people are at some point."

She doesn't crouch to place the note- a mark, twelve shekels for one song, someone's well-off, or at least comfortable and far from miserly- or throw it, but rather drops it over the case and lets it fall, fingers lazy and elegant.

Yet more of those carefully considered movements, more like she's going through the steps of a dance than making spontaneous decisions.

The fact that someone even knows the Cure here - for all she knows, half these people are from places where the Cure never existed - has that grin on Kaitlyn face turning into a wider, more genuine one rather quickly. "Some people always are," she counters bemusedly.

An eyebrow is quirked as she watches the note drift down towards her case, landing just inside the far edge of the guitar case. Well, someone is feeling generous, and Kaitlyn is far from the type to argue. Turning and setting the guitar aside, she decides to focus wholly on Irene for a moment, eyes flitting up and down her form as furtively as she can manage.

"I don't usually get anyone so lovely stopping to listen to me play random music in the park," she laments as she leans against the back of the bench. "Do you usually come through the park? I only just started coming here myself."

"True," Irene concedes, returning her purse to her bag and putting her hands on her hips to smile at Kaitlyn. She does her own brief up-and-down look- that is a gorgeous hair colour -and doesn't miss Kaitlyn assessing her in a similar way.

Interesting. She's about to comment, when Kaitlyn jumps in by telling her she's lovely and she's briefly wrongfooted. She gets compliments a lot and believes she deserves them, but usually she's the one directing the conversation and making the first move. Her eyebrows go up before she can stop herself from looking surprised, and then she smiles. Smirks. Similar thing, with her.

"I'm sure you don't," she says easily, eyes fixed thoughtfully on the other woman. "Try the evening crowd; people are better-looking when it's dark. And I'm just exploring- Dog Fenn isn't usually my haunt."

It's not unlike Kaitlyn to bandy about compliments with people watching her play, in all honesty. It endears her to them, and encourages people to make a return appearance... which in turn leads to more sales, or in this case, more donation. But she's allowed to be more genuine than that every now and again, right? She certainly thinks so. Irene's surprised look seems to go over the musician's head.

"I don't think it's any fun when you can't see people's faces," she remarks, and despite her tone and choice of words it's not meant to be innuendo. "It's so much nicer when you can see them smilin'." She smirks, setting the guitar down next to her and rising up to her feet with a bit of a stretch.

"Really? Glad I'm not the only one, been explorin' myself lately. That's how I found this perfect place t' play!" she remarks with bit of excitement, hands settling into her pockets. She grins, and after a moment offers a hand out to Irene. "Kaitlyn. Glad t' meet someone who appreciates music. Have you found anything interestin' around town? Any neat places t' check out would be cool." Because neat places could be hiring places.

"Oh, plenty- the moonpools, the ravine in Flyside, the Lost Society... For music, though? There's Royal Jewels if you don't mind a drag club. Plenty of live music there. Karaoke each Coardi, too, and amateur night every second Veerdi. I like it; lots of sequins, some genuinely lovely music. Brings me back. The Vault has a few musicians, but it's better at delivering visual delights, I think."

She gives a sharp smile, her teeth glinting.

"The Vault has a few musicians, but it's better at delivering visual delights, I think. Still. Highly recommended. It's a biased recommendation but it's a recommendation nonetheless. And aside from that- I like street musicians. There's something raw about music played to passers by."

Yes; she is perfectly capable of saying all that with her eyes calmly trained on Kaitlyn. Her smile, as usual, suggests that she's not quite taking anything seriously- but it's hard to tell how much of what she's saying is a joke and how much isn't.

Kaitlyn is nodding slowly as Irene begins rattling off places where she could fo, particularly for music. There's a bit of a snicker at the mention of a drag club - she doesn't mind it. Kinda reminds her of a bar back home. But it's the Vault that piques her interest. The mention of visual delights could mean a few things, and she quirks an eyebrow curiously at Irene.

"I've heard people mention the Vault, but I don't know anythin' about it," Kaitlyn confesses as she eyes Irene with amusement. "Though visual delights sounds promising. Maybe I'll check it out, see if they're hiring." Sure, that sounds like a good idea. For now.

That the woman she's talking to likes street musicians, though, that makes Kaitlyn smile a bit less subbtly. "Oh really? Well. You should keep on coming by, then. I don't plan on stopping palying any time soon."

"I may just," Irene drawls. "Goodness knows I've got enough free time."

This isn't strictly true- she works a reasonable number of shifts at the Vault, and working nights means she spends a decent part of the day asleep even if she does have the day free. And there's one client in particular- a friend, as Irene calls those clients who get special treatment- who has taken to requesting 'house calls' in East Gidd during the day. It's not something Irene would usually agree to do, but he's a reasonably important, very rich man and she hasn't got a playspace of her own. Yet. Using her house would be a bad idea- too personal. Then there's the amount of time she spends networking and researching, slotting herself into Baedal and the lives of its inhabitants...yes, she technically has free time, but Irene Adler is one busy woman.

"Which is something you can look forward to if you do get a job at the Vault," she says breezily nonetheless, "provided you don't mind late nights. But I hope you aren't easily shocked. It's- adults only, put it that way."

Again, it's hard to tell whether she's seriously being coy about it, or whether that coyness is another joke. (The latter).

Oh, so it's that kind of visual delight. Kaitlyn had expecting lights and god knows what else. And as that thought runs through her head (and the accompany thoughts of working at this place followed by Irene recommending it and- oh god) she can't help but blush a little as she falters. She tries to hide it with a laugh as she runs a hand back through her hair, but it's not the best she could muster.

"Well. It's something I'll have t' at least look into," is an honest enough answer, and she will - if nothing else, a job is a job. A finger taps against her cheek as she looks at Irene, smirking a bit. "You know, it's not every day a stranger recommends I check out an adults only place," she muses with a bit of a laugh. "I think that's something I like about this place.' A beat, and her smirk widens into a distinctive grin. "I take it it's a place you enjoy then?" There's a mix of genuine curious touched with suggestion in Kait's voice as she speaks, eyeing Irene carefully, as if sizing her up. Or down. Never can be sure.

"If you're under eighteen, I said nothing," Irene says breezily- clearly not too worried. She'd put Kaitlyn in her twenties if she had to guess.

The blush and the slight hesitation is nice; Irene likes to wrongfoot people. (It's not an entirely pleasant part of her personality, but some people find it exciting-- for a time).

"I enjoy it about as much as anyone can enjoy their workplace. But it's my kind of venue," she adds, grinning. "Really good dens of vice are so hard to find."

Once more, she's aiming to shock, though Kaitlyn might be more prepared for that by now.

Kaitlyn can't help but laugh - a hand covering her mouth to stifle a bit of an unattractive snort - at Irene's age disclaimer. "I wouldn't mind if someone thought I was eighteen," she replies as she lowers her hand. "Certainly better than twenty seven." So, yes, Irene. Good call!

"Oh." Oh. "You work there?" There is a bit of surprise in Kaitlyn's voice, tinged with curiosity. "I imagine that makes for an... exiting work day." Among other adjectives that float through her mind. That hand that had been going through her hair rests on the back of her neck, scratching a bit nervously. "What do you do there?" A beat, and a small laugh, "or is not something you can talk about in public? I can't say I've ever really had the opportunity to visit a den of vice, at all. Unless you count the gay bar back home with the mechanical bull. Or my apartment." Which actually isn't intended, initially, as suggestive. But Kaitlyn's quick enough to realise what she's said, and accentuates it with a (admittedly somewhat weak, given the rushed nature of it) smirk.

"Your apartment, really," Irene says, highly amused, her eyes glittering. She can guess that that wasn't entirely intended to sound as it did, but she admires Kaitlyn for taking the plunge and trying to make it seem intentional rather than panicking or apologising.

And then there's the question of her job. Irene gives a private sort of smile, as if they're co-conspirators; "I misbehave." It's intentionally vague. "And it makes for an exciting work night more than anything. Don't worry, I'll talk about anything in public- no sense in letting what strangers think get in the way of fun, is there?"

Given the pieces of information gathered over the course of the conversation and the way they've both acted, it's certainly not hard for Kaitlyn to figure out what "misbehave" is likely to imply - not that she thinks Irene was trying at all to hide it. It's beginning to feel like quite the opposite, particularly given the last bit.

And honestly, Kaitlyn can't help but smile. Even if that forwardness were something she thought she was reading too deeply into, it'd be a refreshing change of pace from what she's used to. She's always enjoyed that kind of forwardness, and it's what prompts her to grin, eyes narrowed a bit at Irene as she stands. "That so? I'm inclined t' agree with you there. Besides, what business is it of theirs what kinda fun I wanna have."

Eyes flit up and down Irene again, fingers sliding into Kaitlyn's pockets. "Maybe I'll have to go by there some time. T' misbehave. Might be a good way t' celebrate gettin' a proper job, with a good night of fun." She grins wider, nodding at Irene - she doesn't specifically say with her, but it's written all over her face. She's never done anything like that before, but things are so- different and accepted in Baedel, she feels much less weird about considering it.

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We are free and we are perfect when Lady Stardust sings. [Open]

Watch me abuse our canon knowledge and italics.

Re: Watch me abuse our canon knowledge and italics.

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Soooorry for the slow replies!

Not at all! I'm being slower x_x

Nah, you're fine!

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