Jack:
Jack did find Mercy's presence surprising, indeed more surprising than a pair of anarchs, when he noticed it. (Of course he noticed it. He's a noticing sort of creature is our Jack of Jacks. And certain creatures are currently more likely to attract his notice than others, the Gangrel being one of them.) But he notices when he does because of Donkey Teeth's moment of inclusive mischief.
Domino-effect: The little tug of cheek under his eye causes a nearby and jumpy Brujah neonate who happened to catch the gesture to turn away so sharply and with such an HRRK grimace that the sharpness of the gesture draws Jack's glance and then the line of the neonate's shoulder and perspective being what it is seems to point to Narcisa whose own eyes have just settled on Mercy and Jack's glance following the Sheriff's like a meek lamb.
Maybe it's less of a domino-effect and more like one of those arcade games where you try to get the ball into the right hole for so many points and then go again and again until the game's over, but Jack's attention is the ball. And maybe he uses his attention to push Donkey Teeth's attention that way, too.
And maybe that's all strictly game theory, doesn't matter. Because Jack seems to rather enjoy the way the Assamite seems to be as played by the music as he is playing the music. But Jack returns the necromancer's nod, and gives Oliviero and his shadow the lion's share of his attention.
This is wry: "I suspect tonight's main event will include all of the above. But," and now, a note of rue and knowing. "I also suspect the show will be such that the genre left open to different interpretations depending on the audience's mood. What are you in the mood for?" Like a waiter who knows all the subtle differences in temperature might say: how do you like your meat? extra-rare, medium rare, medium, medium well, well done, or carbonisé.
" - I wouldn't mind something light myself."
--
But enter, Lady Adelaide. Lady Adelaide, as all the kindred who were gathered to see what she would do: conversation trickles down as she makes her way to the head of the table as it were, and Jack rests his forearms on and leans against the piano when she turns to address the crowd, listening with an expression of -- eh? Oh, come now, who's looking at Jack?
Don't lie. You're not looking at him either.
Lux:
Lux's accent is invisible, or rather more accurately, television American. But when -- and see, an inclusive and welcoming gleam like light striking true silver through corrosion in her eyes -- Samantha introduces herself and Lux replies, dragging out the long (and Toreador) French name, her voice shifts to accomodate the accent and it's the audial equivalent of the visual of dragging silk through water or maybe just the sensation of fingertips dragging down silk: Josephe-Alix Xavierre etc. etc. etc., punctuated with a precise: "But 'Lux' is handier. Please."
Then she either introduces Everett as Everett Stone or Everett introduces himself and once he's done the Toreador adds, with that difficult to pinpoint but easy to recognize air of a native who is attached to her city, "Denver can be such an interesting, quixotic city. I'm so curious to see what all the most recent arrivals make of it! Did you arrive on the swell of Ventrue or Tremere?"
Lux doesn't notice Gotfred's approach until he's already there. No time for the young Toreador to flee grotesquerie! Horrors! But Lux: she greets the Rat King with a quick upturn of her lips, a tribute of lowering lashes, glance going sidelong and his name warm enough in her mouth. If only, and if ever, because when she was much younger, she used to highly enjoy the story about Henrietta and the dance of the seven veils. But it's hardly a surprise that she looks at Everett or Samantha during Everett's response.
--
And, at Lady Adelaide's approach, Lux briefly looks for Rasmussen, before her attention cuts back, and Lux quietly considers Isaac Winthrop's sire as she acknowledges and is acknowledged by Gotfred.
--
How still she is during 'the speeches.' How perfect(.)ly still except for at "this city will not fall" a sweeping lift of her dark eyebrows. Her eyes have not gone hooded: they are wide and watchful and the expression in them is certainly moved in some way, but
come, come
you're probably not looking at Lux right now either.
Jack did find Mercy's presence surprising, indeed more surprising than a pair of anarchs, when he noticed it. (Of course he noticed it. He's a noticing sort of creature is our Jack of Jacks. And certain creatures are currently more likely to attract his notice than others, the Gangrel being one of them.) But he notices when he does because of Donkey Teeth's moment of inclusive mischief.
Domino-effect: The little tug of cheek under his eye causes a nearby and jumpy Brujah neonate who happened to catch the gesture to turn away so sharply and with such an HRRK grimace that the sharpness of the gesture draws Jack's glance and then the line of the neonate's shoulder and perspective being what it is seems to point to Narcisa whose own eyes have just settled on Mercy and Jack's glance following the Sheriff's like a meek lamb.
Maybe it's less of a domino-effect and more like one of those arcade games where you try to get the ball into the right hole for so many points and then go again and again until the game's over, but Jack's attention is the ball. And maybe he uses his attention to push Donkey Teeth's attention that way, too.
And maybe that's all strictly game theory, doesn't matter. Because Jack seems to rather enjoy the way the Assamite seems to be as played by the music as he is playing the music. But Jack returns the necromancer's nod, and gives Oliviero and his shadow the lion's share of his attention.
This is wry: "I suspect tonight's main event will include all of the above. But," and now, a note of rue and knowing. "I also suspect the show will be such that the genre left open to different interpretations depending on the audience's mood. What are you in the mood for?" Like a waiter who knows all the subtle differences in temperature might say: how do you like your meat? extra-rare, medium rare, medium, medium well, well done, or carbonisé.
" - I wouldn't mind something light myself."
--
But enter, Lady Adelaide. Lady Adelaide, as all the kindred who were gathered to see what she would do: conversation trickles down as she makes her way to the head of the table as it were, and Jack rests his forearms on and leans against the piano when she turns to address the crowd, listening with an expression of -- eh? Oh, come now, who's looking at Jack?
Don't lie. You're not looking at him either.
Lux:
Lux's accent is invisible, or rather more accurately, television American. But when -- and see, an inclusive and welcoming gleam like light striking true silver through corrosion in her eyes -- Samantha introduces herself and Lux replies, dragging out the long (and Toreador) French name, her voice shifts to accomodate the accent and it's the audial equivalent of the visual of dragging silk through water or maybe just the sensation of fingertips dragging down silk: Josephe-Alix Xavierre etc. etc. etc., punctuated with a precise: "But 'Lux' is handier. Please."
Then she either introduces Everett as Everett Stone or Everett introduces himself and once he's done the Toreador adds, with that difficult to pinpoint but easy to recognize air of a native who is attached to her city, "Denver can be such an interesting, quixotic city. I'm so curious to see what all the most recent arrivals make of it! Did you arrive on the swell of Ventrue or Tremere?"
Lux doesn't notice Gotfred's approach until he's already there. No time for the young Toreador to flee grotesquerie! Horrors! But Lux: she greets the Rat King with a quick upturn of her lips, a tribute of lowering lashes, glance going sidelong and his name warm enough in her mouth. If only, and if ever, because when she was much younger, she used to highly enjoy the story about Henrietta and the dance of the seven veils. But it's hardly a surprise that she looks at Everett or Samantha during Everett's response.
--
And, at Lady Adelaide's approach, Lux briefly looks for Rasmussen, before her attention cuts back, and Lux quietly considers Isaac Winthrop's sire as she acknowledges and is acknowledged by Gotfred.
--
How still she is during 'the speeches.' How perfect(.)ly still except for at "this city will not fall" a sweeping lift of her dark eyebrows. Her eyes have not gone hooded: they are wide and watchful and the expression in them is certainly moved in some way, but
come, come
you're probably not looking at Lux right now either.