 |
|---|
Social Emitter: Lance
|
| Players |
|
|
NPCs |
Random partygoers.
|
Music |
|
|
Lance gets Angel out of the hotel, and takes him to a party of relaxation. Angel reluctantly goes along, but once there, his sketching talents make themselves known. There is only one subject his photographic memory wants to draw...
6/14/2016 7:00 PM
Hyperion Hotel, San Francisco
The Hyperion Hotel[]
The lights are on, illuminating the area.
The California-Spanish building known as the Hyperion Hotel was built in the 20s. Through the cast iron gates from the sidewalk is a small front courtyard with a rectangular fountain and a mythological figure holding a bowl from which water flows. Greenery frames the walls and a large set of glass double doors open into a high ceilinged lobby. Dark red carpet descends the four steps to the lobby floor and climb the two sets of stairways that lead to the second floor. The green marble floors are accented with wavy red inserts, as are the walls have a complimentary red border running their length. A set of doors identical to those of the entrance lead to a small enclosed garden.
Cream-colored pillars line two sides of the room, holding up the second-floor balconies that look out onto the lobby and creating arches. Underneath one of them is a large plate glass window that looks into the hotel office - now used as the office and nerve center of Angel Investigations. Nearby, there's a wraparound counter with dark wood paneling and a top the same color as the floor. Behind it are filing cabinets and a pair of desks pushed together. A navy blue circular couch harkening back to a 50s design sits near the back of the lobby. A large wooden, glass-doored cabinet pushed up against the wall holds a large assortment of weapons.
Outside, it's raining hard, with thunder and flashes of lightning.
Angel's getting some paperwork done. Much of his time, lately, has been spent training the various people who've come by to train over the summer. Some Slayers, some wolves, even a couple humans. But still, he runs a business, and it's the mundane, not so world changing investigations that actually bring the money in. Doing good in the world, tends to be less lucrative. Because the people that need help often have no ability to pay.
Lance sees the other side: he does good, at least as far as he's concerned, but it pays very, very well. It's one of the things that brought him to San Francisco, as he regularly does stop in the city to check on his business. Angel probably hasn't met any of his people; they keep to themselves, don't make a big splash, and generally hang out in the Haight. Though with all the unrest recently and the big battle, plenty of them relocated temporarily to Beacon Hills. But now that it's over, they're filtering back.
Lance opens the door, knocking on it even as he swings it open with a big smile on his face. "Aaaaangelcakes?"
Angel looks up, and hearing THAT greeting, is expecting to see a green demon with red horns. After all, Caritas has also been relocated in town, after all. But no, not Lorne. It's Lance, the guy he'd met for advice on how to deal with certain unwanted guests. "Lance. Good to see you." Angel's greeting is as one given to an ally. After all, Lance had some very useful advice for him and the warriors he'd gathered.
"You're so effusive and emotional!" Lance remarks, joking with a wry wit but still smiling as he heads over. "We've having a loooove-in at the Haight. Thought I'd pop over and see if you were interested. I mean," he continues, waving a hand, "basically like art, poetry, *expression*. The love part is just everybody grooving."
Angel's wit is drier then 8 out of 10 deserts as he replies, "...I try." But then..."A love in?" The modern lingo doesn't quite work so well with a nearly triple century old vampire. Tends to miss some of these references. Still, sounds like something he'd want company for. On mentioning art, "Well, I do some pretty good sketches."
"So come on with me! I mean...you don't have to worry about having a good time now." Lance half-sits on the surface holding the paperwork. "Got a bunch of art supplies. You can just do whatever inspiration strikes in you. We're gonna put up the art all over a wall in the place, it's a retro cafe so it'll look just right."
Angel's not at all sure about this, but at least it'd be an interesting change from what he usually does all day. And he'll meet a wider ranger of people he should probably at least be aware of. Lance seems to have a few friends about, and knowing them from...others would be wise. "I guess..." Not overly enthused, perhaps because who he really wanted to see still hasn't appeared yet.
"Better than sitting here alone in a hotel office all night." Lance pushes up to his feet, waiting for Angel to rise and then matching pace with him to the door. "Sometimes it's fun just to let yourself be yourself and not feel like you have to live up to anybody else's expectations. Let that artistic voice ring out once in a while!"
Angel's...always living up to someone's expectations, it's true. Just as well, in many cases. He wouldn't be a business owner or a Champion if he hadn't been working so hard to live up to the standards of a particular young lady. "Well, fine. Show me this thing of yours..."
"Ooh, you better watch your wording. You might end up having a good time." Lance chuckles and pulls the door open, stepping aside so Angel can go through. "It's a nice night. Like, maybe a surprisingly nice night. So how've you been, since...well, everything went down?"
Angel follows along. "A good time? Me?" That's one of the signs of the Apocalypse. Or one of the seals on Lucifer's cage. Or something equally apocalyptic. Something like that. "The ritual worked." But the one he'd really like to see about that ritual has yet to appear. "Your advice helped a lot. We managed to shut them down cold from even trying to enter the building."
Lance strolls beside Angel, sliding his hands halfway into his pockets. "Good enough. I always found that crowd-pleasing sycophant insufferable. Fucking his plans over, that's balm for my soul." His boots click softly against the pavement. "By the way, just so you're aware -- there's a jackass calling himself Pitch. Set some inept hunters against us while most of you were busy down here. He is *not* my people."
"From what I heard, we did more then screw his plans over. Castiel lent us his blade, and the Scythe seems capable of delivering fatal blows that don't let them run back to Hell. So I'm pretty sure he's gone for good." It's true very few weapons can do that, but the trademark Slayer Scythe is on that very short list. "Pitch? Got it. If I can get my seers to find him, we might be able to do something about him." Permanently, if Faith still has the Scythe available at the time.
"The Scythe is just unbreakable under normal circumstances. It can't kill a demon with any finality." Lance raises a brow. He's been around for a while -- quite a while -- and all that time wasn't spent as a demon, either. "Just letting you know as a courtesy. Pitch is not one of mine, don't let him try to play you or play both of us against each other. I don't want to speculate how that would go."
"Perhaps, but Castiel's weapon got the final hit, and that should absolutely work." Maybe he overestimated the Scythe, or maybe it's been empowered since Willow cast her spell with it, but any number of other things could be going on that he wasn't aware of. "Regardless of how it all works, understood about Pitch. He won't find a place."
Lance seems satisfied enough by this, and he nods with some decisiveness. Tonight's a night for relaxation. Fun! That sort of thing. "Good! I think you'll have fun once we get there. It's just all kinds of *chill* and you can be what you want, even if just for a little while."
"Be what I want, huh?" There's a few things he might've wanted to be, even if most of them aren't the kinds of things he can just 'be for a night.' There more life choices, really. "Well, we'll see."
"Or do what you want to do. I mean, based on what's available." Lance turns down the street, pointing to an alley. "Quicker to go that way. Don't worry, I don't think anything's stupid enough to pick a fight with the two of us." He continues in that direction. "So, penny for your thoughts?"
"I might be able to manage that." Angel's been fighting so long that it's all he does most nights, saving the city, its residents, and the world from everything going bump in the night. At least this alley seems to be free of idiots, for once. "Just waiting. Waiting for what I've been hoping for."
Lance remains silent for a while more, leading the way out of the alley, to a brighter part of the next block. "Maybe you can have fun without getting too caught up in a hyperfocus, right?" He grins a little bit again. "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with and all. It's probably in my contract to say that. I guess I'm obligated."
"The ones I'm with are very, very platonic. Solid friends though, couldn't ask for better." He does love them, though. So very very much. It's just not THAT kind of love. "Atonement takes an eternity. I may have evicted my other self, but I still remember everything I did."
"Yeah. You can't undo the past. At least, not easily." Lance glances up. Light pollution. It's nicer in Beacon Hills, around his home. He can see more of the stars there. "Sometimes though, you've gotta let go and stop beating yourself up. It won't make things better by making yourself feel worse."
"Well, until last month, this whole state I'm in was a curse designed to make me suffer. The soul I have was designed to make me suffer. Get rid of the 'push this button for sadistic evil' doesn't end the guilt part of the curse. Just the threat of being a monster again." So he still suffers with his soul, and no mistake. He just...gets to enjoy the better parts of being...well, not human, but.
Lance's smile turns to a smirk as he looks to Angel. The people are more dense now in terms of crowd; things are happening as they get closer to the Haight. "Guilt is self-inflicted. There *is* a cure."
"Such 'cures' are temporary and don't actually solve anything. I DID used to be a drunken lout as a mortal, ya know. The drinking never made anything go away then. It won't do better now, even if you've enchanted it all so it works on me." Well. Not that it's probably 'enchanting' per se, but it's been souped up at least.
"Not what I said. Here we are." Lance leads to the back door and waves to the man waiting there. Nodding his head to Angel, Lance heads inside. It really is an artistic happening, like something straight out of the 60s. The crowd is varied, but some of them do dress the part: tie-dye, natural fabrics, long hair...and flowers! Mustn't forget flowers. "Here we are! Grab some art supplies or...dance, or smoke up, or whatever!"
Art supplies? Angel can do that. He manages to get hold of an easel, and a large sheet of paper. And he begins drawing something. It becomes clear, early on, that the picture is of a woman...
Lance mingles. For a while, he makes the rounds of the room and clearly knows most people at the event, though a few are new to him or new arrivals. Once he's given some good welcome, he makes his way back to Angel. "...it's good to get it out." There's a smoking hand-rolled something-or-other between his fingers. "Maybe then you won't be so fixated on it."
Get it out? His photographic memory is not his friend when it comes to 'getting it out.' But he can still create quite a drawing, even from memory. She's smiling of course. Happy. And yet, the hidden weight of the world was on her shoulders, the burden of being who and what she was, a leader's confidence eminating from her.
"...yeah, have you ever heard of...obsession?" Lance takes a little draw off whatever it is he's smoking. It's a nice sort of mellow smoke though. Pleasant enough smelling. There's incense heavy in the air anyway. "I mean, sometimes people can't live up to expectations when so much is pinned on them."
"...It's a failing." He finally replied verbally. But the image he's drawing gets more and more detailed, photorealistic even, all off Angel's memory. "Everyone has flaws. Imperfections. Weaknesses. Edges."
Lance nods softly, once or twice again, before holding the cigarette or whatever it may be out towards Angel in silent offering. "I feel like I should tell you that you really need to get laid or something."
That's...on his to do list, now. "It has to be the right time for the right reason. It might not even be right away." But even the patience of an immortal was being worn upon. "True happiness broke the curse I used to have."
"Yeah, but sometimes sex is just sex! I mean, it can be a nice outlet?" Lance shrugs and takes another draw off it, breathing the white smoke out over his lips and from his nostrils. "Doesn't mean you have to really have a connection. You just really come off as...pent-up. Like you need a crank of your valve."
"Well, all my friends are platonic." So...none of them are actually people he can or even should have sex with. Particularly the one he's closest to of the bunch.
Lance gestures around himself, around the both of them. "Yeah, but here's some nice people. Anyway, whatever. You're really talented! You've got a great eye for the paper. You could make a lot of spare scratch with this...y'know, paint some people like your French girls." With an airy chuckle, he leans back to get a slightly better view. "You could do a show. Like, Obsessions and Reflections, by Angel."
The finished picture is instantly recognizable by anyone who's ever met her. Even the junior Slayers who've only seen her in dreams would recognize that face. The reference misses him, though. "She isn't french." Alas, this poor vampire did not go see Titanic. "I use this in my investigations, at times. I can sketch people from descriptions, well enough that a client can point at them and say 'that's the guy.'"
"Pop culture reference," Lance notes, by way of explanation. "Must be really useful! I mean, she looks like a nice enough girl. Probably a kinda curated portrayal, but y'know." He motions his occupied hand, careful not to sling ash everywhere. "That's what art's about. Perception sharing. So what's her name again?"
"It is. I can't get this level of detail off descriptions...a lot of the details I put in a picture like this are based on how well I know her mind and heart. The better I know someone on the inside, the better the picture of the outside." Nice enough girl, indeed. Saves the world on days that end in Y. Saving the world right now, again. "Buffy." So many feels, put into that single name.
Lance catches himself in a half-chuckle. "Buffy? Like Sainte-Marie?" He flicks his tongue over his lips. "I wonder if that's short for Beverly, or if she was just born 'Buffy'..." Another puff. "Such a California name. I mean, I never hear it anywhere else in the world."
"Short for Elizabeth." How Elizabeth turned into Buffy, that's an interesting story. "Well, she was born in this particular state." Though even in California, it's not the most common of names.
That makes Lance frown slightly. "Buffy is *not* short for Elizabeth. If she's claiming it, why not just admit you're doing a totally new name because you like it better? For real." He ends up shrugging though, as if to dismiss the thoughts. "Anyway, I'd totally bang you, but you seem like the kind of guy that would make it weird? Like I don't want to offend or anything. I just feel like...you've got a lot of...concerns to work through before you reach the point of sexual healing?"
Angel shrugs. "She's happy with her name. And that's all that matters." Make it weird? Well, Angel can't say he's NEVER swung that way. Then again, the last time he swung that way, he was Angelus. Since regaining his soul, it's been strictly females. "There's...a lot of concerns, yeah. Thanks for having me..." Though he does choose to take the sketch with him, as he departs.
"Oh come on, don't rush off!" Lance calls out, but he doesn't actually get in the way. That wouldn't really be in keeping with the theme of the event, after all: people come and go as they're moved to. With a sigh, he rolls his eyes. Oh well. Angel has a way of making it weird even when it's not making it weird.