Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 17 October 2004 |
| Who: | Alexander, Elizabeth, Genevieve, Sarah, Zaman |
| What: | University sidewalk art festival degrades into political grandstanding! |
The University
The campus of the University of Texas at Austin stretches over several square miles. The most striking area of the campus is the clock tower, which looms over the rest of the campus and glows depending on when the school wins a victory in something it considers important. The West Mall is also another large part of the campus, housing the school's Union and having an open grassed area in front of it with enough trees to give it suitable shading.
The southwest corner of the campus is where the Harry Ransom Center is. A massive library and archive area that has several rare books and artifacts that make it of special interest to Yves. Finally, the last place of major interest is a Tokamak reactor buried deep beneath the Math and Sciences Building; the reactor a source of constant interest by both servitors of Jean and Vapula.
Alexander is currently in the West Mall area, sitting at the edge of the grassy area across from the student union. He's actually positioned himself under a tree - his hat is out in front of him, pinned by a foot resting on the brim. Going off the advice of someone he met recently, he's trying to attract people into giving him money by playing the harmonica. Badly. Very badly.
A figure slips through the shadows, voice rambling slightly as she skips along. A clatter of a pebble is played between her feet, and the short form of Genevieve finally swims into vision from under the orangish foglights of the campus. She settles out on one of the plazas, grinning wide as she surveys the multitudinous square yards of pristine, untouched, uncolored, undecorated concrete. And then, a moment later, as she realizes the shape of one of the paths and the circle of green grass sitting inside of it, a wide grin spreads across her face. "Oh, this is going to be great! I hope I have enough chalk! This is going to rule!" It appears that she's had inspiration that doesn't involve the reproduction of famous artists' work. She lunges forward, and then extends a piece of white, otherwise colorless chalk to sketch a section of outline, before the rambling notes catch her hearing. Curious, she stands for a moment, the terribly oversized hoodie she's currently wearing sagging along her wrists.
Zaman strolls along the center of the campus, taking advantage of the wooded walk to escape the cityscape for a moment. He walks with his hands pocketed away into his jacket; gait even and slowly. Every now and again his gaze will waver from its forward direction to look around, but on the whole the man appears determined and utterly confident.
The homeless man seated under the tree continues to play something vaguely military sounding, but it's really hard to tell if that's the intent, or just the result of his complete ineptitude with the instrument. Although the notes aren't as sour as they could be - they're just jumbled and confused. Alexander doesn't seem to really be attracting the attention of many students - certainly not ones interested in giving him money. A few give him glances, and continue along.
Elizabeth emerges from the student union, bearing (as usual) her habitual briefcase. She winces as a particularly non-melodious phrase hits her ears with jarring impact, and she approaches the source with no small trepidation.
And that is about when the latest hire into the Antiquities department wanders into the area, her everpresent satchel over one shoulder as she walks. Sarah doesn't seem to have much in the way of actual purpose - though that's rather difficult to measure when she's suddenly sidetracked by the nigh-cacaphony coming from a tree across from the union. She blinks a few times, and then shrugs, letting her curiosity getting the better of her as she turns to investigate.
Zaman doesn't seem to mind Alexander that much, or if he does he doesn't let on. Zaman does pause at the sight of Genevieve, however, slowing his pace and ultimately stopping above her and watching her work. He doesn't say anything for the time being, simply staring.
Alexander finally seems to realize it's not working, and removes the harmonica from his lips. He holds it in his hands and glares at it for a moment. Shaking it to clean the spit out onto the grass. He spots the approaching women, and with a theatrical sigh, tucks the harmonica in his pocket, climbs to his feet and sweept the hat off the grass in a faux bow to both Elizabeth and Sarah. "Evenin'. Thought I'd try a new tack."
Genevieve idly tosses a thumbs-up in the direction of Alexander and his audience, before she goes back to scribbling at the sidewalk. She stands, and then circles around the slowly emerging arch of fire, at this moment about a yard in size. In fact, she seems to be moving a smidge more than necessary, as if the action of creating the work was a form of workout. The security lamps cast a three-layered shadow over her, and with eyes wide, she pops her mouth open up at Zaman, and blurts out, "Well hello there, sir. Are you taking evening classes here?"
Elizabeth frowns down at the homeless man, then recognizes him as that (admittedly clean) bum from the other day. "Oh, it's you," she says impassively, stepping backwards as Alexander shakes saliva out of the offending harmonica. "Good evening, sir. Have you considered that your efforts might meet with more success were you to select one melody and stick with it until the end?"
Sarah arches an eyebrow, but smiles as she recognizes the man who she met the other day. The...extremely /creepy/ man. Hmm. "Well, as long as it works, and you're not hurting anyone, it's worth a shot, right?" She carefully does not make any comments on offending anyone's eardrums, as that wouldn't be nice at allll. "Nice to see you again, by the way."
"Dun' know how," comments Alexander to Elizabeth. "Not normally the musical sort - still learning. Most of the whole songs I know aren't really meant for entertainment." He fishes around in his jacket, pulling out a battered, mostly flattened sandwhich in a plastic baggie. Splitting it open, the scent that wafts is peanut butter and jelly. "Best donation I got all aft'noon," he comments dryly, idly strolling towards the pool of light Genevieve's working in. "Good t'see you too, ma'am."
"No." Zaman replies simply, his voice just a rasp as he addresses Genevieve. The man assumes a wide grin, a million different interpretations living between those lips. "Just passing through. I've taken to...Strolling through this part of the campus in the evening. A change of scenery, you might say."
Elizabeth backs a smidgen further away from Alexander's peanut butter and jelly as he stands and heads towards Genevieve's creation. "I see," she says. "Ah... thank you." Her head tracks his motion, though, and she ends up peering at the sidewalk art in progress - and the people nearby. She blinks, and says, "Zachary? What are you doing here?"
Genevieve hops up to her feet, and glances over the tall blond male's form again quizzically, before she sets back to creating more chalk fire, making her way a bit further along so that the arc is now about three yards in length, slowly taking on the large sidewalk's curve. She's working a bit faster, although it's unclear if the increased tempo is due to being uncomfortable at the other's scrutiny, or if it's just because she's gotten comfortable with the patterns of making depictions of flame. "Ah, yeah, it's a good place to go at night. Can be quiet, I don't blame you. And... Zachary?" She tilts her head to the side, and then pops her mouth in an 'o' of recognition. "Is this whom you two were talking about? Thor picked up the name from the conversation, kept popping up his crest feathers and all like he had won the lottery, proud of how smart he was. Birds are crazy, sometimes." Another wild wave is tossed Alexander's way. "Keep TRYING!"
Zaman raises one hand to his mouth, creating a 'c' around his mouth as he calls to Elizabeth. "Admiring an artist's work in progress!" He calls back, then settles his attention back on the art unfolding below him. "A bird named Thor. Wouldn't happen to be a raven, perchance? I know that's Odin but I think it would be quite ironic, don't you?"
Alexander takes a bite out of the sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. He mumbles at Genevieve, pointing at the sandwich. Apparently attmepting to imply that he's on a lunch break, or something. He steps into the pool of light, watching the flames take shape with shining eyes. Swallowing, he grins faintly and gestures with the sandwich. "Jes' a bit more red over there." Meanwhile, Zachary gets a brief nod and an intense stare before the big homeless man steps over an uncompleted portion of the design, flopping down on the grass in the middle.
Sarah peers after the retreating homeless man, and then at Genevieve and her sidewalk work. Huh. Interesting. Some people who know each other, others who don't, and a lot of confusion. Aren't politics just grand? She approaches the forming artwork, peering at it curiously, but not mentioning anything about it just now. She's apparently not nowhere better to be.
Elizabeth walks swiftly over to within conversational distace of Zachary, carefully stepping over the chalk-flames when necessary. She pauses, looking down at the work in progress. "Oh my," she says, taking in the layout of grass and sidewalk. "Are you going to be extending this piece full circle, miss? That seems like quite a large-scale work."
Continuing her circle around Alexander, Genevieve shakes her head emphatically, "Not at all, Mister Midnight Walker," she says the name with a melodramatic wiggle atop the balls of her feet, before she scribbles some more of the pink and orange at the indicated area by the homeless man. "You'd know, wouldn't you?," she remarks playfully, before starting on another section. She shakes her head, "No, not a raven. Moluccan Cockatoo, actually. Didn't name him after a god, really, either. At least not directly. Ever see the Asgards from the later seasons of Stargate?" she asks, tilting her head up curiously towards the fair-featured man.
The grin on Alexander's face grows just a bit wider at Genevieve's gentle teasing. "Yes, I would at that." He munches on his sandwich with apparent contentment. On a seeming whim, he waves for Sarah to approach. "C'mere ma'am. The view's better from inside - y'can get a real feel for it."
"Midnight Walker. Ominous name, that." Zaman replies to Genevieve, turning his attention upwards at Alexander as the man give him the stare, still wearing the confident, enigmatic grin. At the behest of the homeless man he carefully steps over the drawing, standing in its center with Alexander. Given this central view Zaman takes in the emerging work, "You certainly have a flair for grandeur, m'dear."
Sarah glances up at Alexander's words, and glances at Genevieve briefly before chuckling. "Alright," she says. "Why not?" Stepping closer still, she finds another unfinished portion, and hops over it, making her way to the same grassy spot the homeless man has claimed and setting down on it.
Genevieve ehns to herself as the science fiction reference falls flat, and then industriously goes back to work. At the compliment, she looks up sharply, as if confused that something nice would be said her way about the emerging image. "Well, truth be told, people seem to be bothered by how empheral it all is... but I think that's one of the nice things about it. The sprinklers are going to wash this away when they come on in the morning, I bet..." She stands, and spins slowly, arms outstretched before she walks quickly around the third-completed curve. "Duck, duck, duck..." she murmurs to herself, as if imitating the children's game as she circles those on the green, suggesting that she intends to go all the way around with the drawing, provided the chalk lasts that long. Dusty hands dart into the oversized hoodie, and then pulls out a digital camera. A flash and a faint chirrup comes from the silvered camera as she takes a picture of the pink orange and yellow curve of flame. "It's why I do this, at least. I really should put them all together in a photo album sometime," she remarks mostly to herself.
Alexander glares at Zaman a bit, his good mood evaporating rapidly in the lawyer's presence. Still, he doesn't make an immediate issue of it, turning to Sarah and gesturing. "You can see the sweep of the flames there - the implied everdancing motion. Never still, is Fire - always in motion." His eyes gleam brightly with reflected light from the streetlights - and one might almost see the real flames themselves dancing there as he watches the work take shape. "And yes - Fire tends to be ephemeral. It's touch however... that can last a long time. Same with art, I s'pose."
Elizabeth stays on the outside, and paces slowly along to keep up with Genevieve as she works. She looks down at the chalk art, her brow furrowing a little, and asks the artist, "Is this supposed to symbolize something, or is it abstract art?"
Zaman's grin only seems to widen at Alexander's displeasure, but doesn't say anything about, keeping up the tension in the atmosphere, living off of it. "You are quite right, Alex, is it? Very true words. Strange also that this is a ring of fire, wouldn't you say? A trap, a prison. And look, us three are caught in the middle."
Roll by Alexander: (4) (2) (5)
"Well, I meant more about streetsweepers and people walking all over it smearing the chalk, but okay..." She then settles back down, however briefly, on the image so that it verges on two-thirds complete. At the comparison, she breaks into a merry laugh. "Sometimes a drawing's just a drawing," she says in response partially to Elizabeth's inquiry and Zaman's analogy. "I don't get ppeople who try to overanalyze things, really." She smirks primly, and makes a grand gesture towards the still open area, "You may pass if you wish!" She gives an overly formal bow, the flourish akin to that seen in theatre.
Sarah nods slowly, observing. She's no /art/ critic...but she /is/ an archaeologist, and flames have been a part of the human consciousness and art for a long, long time. "It does," she says. "The more permanent works of art are all we still have of the past, but sometimes, the shorter-term things can be just as important. It's important to be able to appreciate the short stuff, if you ask me." Then she looks up at Zaman and his comment, but shrugs. "Well, circles aren't always prisons, you know. And fire isn't always a sign of danger and impassability. From a certain perspective, you could say it's a sign of unity, even."
The homeless man turns away from his rapt contemplation of the Fire around him to glare at Zaman. At the same time, he extends his senses to the Symphony, listening to the chorus around this man near him. "So. That's how it is," he comments dryly, shaking his head. He gestures at the exit. "You'll find none of what you desire here, Zachary. Leave the circle before the flames of Fire close around you." He smiles then, but there is no cheer in it. "But then again, it is just art. So no worries, hmm?"
Elizabeth eyes Genevieve's bow slightly askance, but bows to then inevitable and delicately steps over the opus to join the small group on the grass in the center. "It /is/ lovely," Elizabeth concedes, "but I've always found sensory experiences without analysis to be a little... superficial."
"If the artist says that the art is for art's sake, then that is the Truth." Zaman nods slowly to Genevieve, in that sentence answering the myriad claims to the meaning of the ring. After Alexander speaks, the grin widens to its furthest extreme, lips parting over his white teeth. The lawyer sidesteps slightly so that he can face Alexander without turning his head. "What do I desire, Alex? The weather is nice, there is company about me, the sun will rise tomorrow, and I'll be able to walk under it without fear. What more could I ask for?"
Genevieve half-opens to argue the point with Elizabeth, but Zaman speaks, beating her to the punch. She finds some desire to be contrary, and finally settles on a fairly weak, "Well, not always meaningful, not always meaningless..." She furrows her brow, and pretty much just wound up agreeing with both of them. She claps her mouth shut, and then scribbles a bit more. Eventually, she closes the circle, and states matter of factly, planting her hands on her hips, "The Circle of Fire is the largest continuous area of volcanic activity on Earth, even if a lot of it is underwater," she muses. Another thought crosses her mind, and after a quick snap and beep of the camera, she pockets it again and then pulls out the light green chalk, her hands still dusty. She doesn't seem too caught up in Alexander's agitation, and adds a few licks of color for zest. Oh dear, someone was overdoing it.
Alexander climbs to his feet, rising to his full height as he faces the lawyer fully. The grin on his face twists slightly as he leans towards Zaman, reaching into his coat and brings out his lighter. He drops his voice to a whisper - pitching it so that Zaman's probably the only one who'll easily hear all of it. "It's true you have no clear weakness to fear in the light of day, but it's botched you in the past. There is power, and then there is power. And I wouldn't be so sure that there's nothing under the blazing hot sun to fear." And then the big man straightens up and takes a careful step back, firing the lighter and drawing out a cigarette. He lights it up with that odd, fey grin on his face.
Elizabeth smiles at Genevieve's abrupt shift to concrete facts and says, "So I have heard, as well - and hasn't Mount St. Helens been acting up a bit lately? But truly, I meant no insult to your art; it's more that... hmmm, how do I put this? I derive considerable enjoyment from analyzing things and making mental connections between them, just as you connected the drawing to an area of volcanic activity. If I just took everything at face value I wouldn't have nearly as much fun."
Sarah is quickly concluding that there is something Weird going on here. But she tries not to lose her cool, instead standing as Alex does, /just/ in case. She's not a fighter, but she can serve the purpose of 'physical body between fist A and face B' well enough if the need arises. Fed up with guessing, Sarah also turns an ear to the greater Symphony, trying to get an inkling of just what the hell is going on in this little gathering of folks. For now, she turns out the art discussion; as much as she loved the topic, she feels it a more pressing duty to try and mediate here, if she can.
Roll by Sarah: (1) (6) (4)
Zaman leans a little bit towards Alexander, grin unwavering in the face of the other's threats. To all of this he simply replies: "You are reacting to me." Then he leans back upright, turning back to the artwork that's about done unfolding.
Alexander glares at Zachary once again, hands clenching at his sides. He glances down at the artwork, noting the hint of green flames being added. With a visible exercise of willpower, he turns away from Zachary, and pulls out the harmonica again. And starts to play - but this time it's not the poorly constructed jumble of before. This song has a melody to it - a feel of fire, of the dancing of flames. He plays with his eyes closed as the music evokes and describes fire - but only in music. This time.
Sarah frowns as the Symphony whispers a melody of -- well, overall 'eh', actually. But the drums of war and anger, or at the very least a positively startling amount of dislike, beat from Alexander, and Sarah can tell that this is situation is going to end poorly if she can't defuse it somehow. She is about to clear her throat, trying to draw their attention to /her/, and not each other - but then finds Alexander moving off, instead. Whew. Good thing; she was afraid it might come to blow for a few moments, there. Heaving a long, relieved sigh, she returns her attention to Genevieve's work, and Alexander's music. Well, okay, she may not know half of these people, but /this/ at least isn't so bad...
Genevieve looks up from her work, before standing and nodding. "That it is, and lava's rising, too. Just hope that people have the sense to get out of the way this time. And maybe this green will help bring out some of those yellows..." She adds a bit more, as if absorbed with the technical application of the work. "I like large scale stuff, too. Trying to cram stuff on an eight and a half by eleven page? Cramped!" She raises her hands to the skies in fists as if to rail against the imagined constraint, but breaks off as she watches the glower expressed by Alexander. With a faint squeak, she edges away from him and Zachary.
Elizabeth looks from Zachary to Alexander and back again, frowning. She clears her throat and says brightly, "So, Zachary! What do you think about the upcoming elections?" It's a blatant attempt at a subject change, although perhaps not the best choice of topics to cool tempers.
Alexander just stands and plays. He has been given an order, and as much as he dislikes it, it is not his choice of the correct time to act. He pours his rage, burning and hot, into the harmonica, letting it out as music. He fights the urge to feed the song what it yearns for, turning fully away from Zachary as he finishes the tune, tucking the harmonica back into a pocket. And retrieving his cigarette from the grass where it was dropped, smouldering a bit. "I like the green in the flames. And yeah - I think about the Ring of Fire from time to time. Never know just what sort of Ring it is, hey?"
Zaman is well aware of Alexander's hatred, his anger, and his ultimate inability to act. It makes the man want to laugh, makes him want to laugh so hard and so long that Alexander will know just exactly what Zaman thinks of him, not just for now but for all time. "I think that Kerry is full of shit, myself. Extra army division? Where will he find the troops? Then again, Bush is hardly the sharpest tool in the shed. They'll both have to raise taxes, at any rate."
An audible groan emanates from the slight dark haired female as she raises one hand to rub anxiously along her ear piercings. "Just had to ask, didn't you?" She then shakes her head a bit, before she nods to Alexander. "Thank you for the critque, Mister Alexander." She then takes a few more pictures, having to hold rather still when she tries out a few images without flash, using the orange cast of the foglights to enhance the color of the pseudo-flames. She scowls slightly, and mumbles, "Not pulling any punches?"
Elizabeth snickers at Genevieve and says, "Yup! Aren't you going to be voting come November, too? Honestly, I think the American people are focusing far too much effort on the whole 'War On Terror' thing, myself. If you actually look at the numbers, heart disease kills far more Americans annually than terrorists do. But that's the hot button issue that many of the voters are riled up about, so any candidate who wants to get elected has to promise to devote a disproportionate amount of resources to it. I wish voters were more rational," she concludes with a sigh.
Alexander grunts at the talk of politics, apparently sharing Genevieve's opinion of the subject in general. He crouches for a moment and easily jumps over the design, clearing it easily and landing with a bit of a bounce on the opposite side. "M'not registered," he comments over his shoulder to Elizabeth before moving to stand beside Genevieve. "Punches? Where?" he asks with a bit of a smirk.
"Cheeseburgers don't scare the American people, Elizabeth." Zaman replies coolly, looking to her. "While you're right from a numbers standpoint, terrorism represents something that people hate to live up to. That they are powerless, unable to control their lives. That demands action, whereas I can choose not to super-size or that chocolate milkshake."
Genevieve grins wide, "Oh yes, yes I will be. And I'll be giving out flyers too for people who want to vote ahead of time. There are places to do that, you know. Starting the 29th, I think it is? And the whole Voter's Bill of Rights thing, yeah. I could print THAT on the other side, too!" She pauses slightly, and tchs. "It's a wee bit late for registering, anyway." She scuffs at the ground, before glancing expectantly at the ground. "That and people think death from disease is 'natural', even if they DO bring it on themselves by being pigs." She pouts slightly, as if somewhat riled by the idea, but manages to hold her tongue on just WHOM might be responsible for the sad state of American nutrional affairs these days.
Elizabeth cocks her head to one side, peering at Zaman and asking, "So are you suggesting that the emotional payoff of the War On Terror makes it actually a good investment of resouces, because the average American would happily trade the difference in years of life expectancy for having more warmfuzzy feelings during his (shorter) lifespan? An interesting proposition, albeit one that I dislike. Although I must confess that my own personal feelings are entering into my evaluation; I get more warmfuzzies from freedom than from safety."
Alexander shrugs, inhaling deeply off his cigarette. "I dun' have a permanent address or Social Security card. They don' let people like me vote ver' easily." He runs a hand through his hair, and then sticks the cigarette in his mouth and unties the leather thongs holding the ponytail back. "Dun' know about Terror. I just do my thing." He combs his fingers through his hair, ending up with an unruly cloud of it around his head.
"Every election has /some/thing big," Sarah notes. "It's not always important. And sometimes it makes alll the importance in the world." A fact she knows all too well. Then she glances at Elizabeth again, and a quote bubbles to mind that she just can't keep down. "Benjamin Franklin, I believe, once said that those who are willing to sacrifice a little freedom for safety deserve neither. I don't know if it needs to be quite /that/ heavy-handed, but I'd say he had the right idea overall, if you ask me."
Zaman shrugs at Elizabeth. "I'm not making a statement on its importance, just that that is why we focus on it so much in our society. We like to feel secure, I believe that's one of the lower rungs on the hierarchy of needs, if we don't feel secure we don't function, and it takes up our time. Might even shorten our lives, too."
Genevieve raises a hand to frown slightly. She's made her decision on how to help, and which way she was voting, not seeing any real need to dwell on the matter. The fact that others were was somewhat disconcerting, and the short female frowns deeply to herself, feeling mentally outclassed at the moment, regardless of whether or not that was the truth of the matter. She crosses her legs under her form, and casts her gaze quickly towards Alexander in some delight at seeing him splay his hair out, but resists the urge to begin arranging it. For now, she rests her chin on her palm, and plucks at the grass as people debate over the matters at hand. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she's formulating some kind of pattern to make out of the remaining blue, green and white chalk.
Alexander more or less tunes out the discussion of politics. He really doesn't care - the top levels may change, but at the core of things, it's going to end up being more of the same down at the level where he works. Let the others worry about the sweep of the world. He works one at a time, in his own way. While he thinks this to himself, muttering softly, he continues to comb his hair with his fingers, working out knots and tangles. "Gotta brush," he asks Genevieve, the only one not babbling about this and that, pointlessly.
Elizabeth nods slowly. "I believe you do have a point there, Zachary." She smiles and says, "You'll have to forgive me; psychology isn't my strongest point, here. But I've heard that additional stress is bad for the health. I still wish people would stress about reasonable things, though. I've crunched the numbers, and terrorism just isn't that much of a threat to the average American. It's just highly visible, because violence makes the news more than mischance or ill health."
"We wouldn't need government if we could count on people to have common sense, Elizabeth." Zaman replies to her with a small chuckle. "People will be dazzled, that's just a fact. Our job is to live with it, go with the flow and make the best of what comes our way."
Genevieve shakes her head emphatically towards Alexander, before giving another short, rapt look towards the length of the hair. Apparently something of a fascination with her, she does at least offer, "Can at least straighten it. Get over here." She doesn't even wait for him to respond, actually zipping over to start teasing apart the knots that may have settled into the ends of the hair. Eventually she'll work her way up, but for now she toys with the ends.
Sarah, having graced the conversation with her infinite wisdom, or at least a random quotation, goes back to sitting around and watching Genevieve and looking at her creation.
Then she starts fixing the homeless guy's hair. Uhm, okay.
Alexander almost starts to object, but then subsides as Genevieve zips over to fiddle with his hair. "You don' have to..." He lets out a sigh, and just stands there for a moment, and shrugs his shoulders at Sarah. "Don' look at me. S'clean at least. The shelters are good about that sort'a thing." Keeping his head still, he looks over the artwork of the whirling firey ring on the ground. "Politics gives people such an excuse t'be cruel to one'nother. Don' like it much."
"Is it really so much to ask for, for people to just look out after their own interests /competently/?" Elizabeth protests. "It's not like I'm suddenly expecting folks to decide that war is evil or anything idealistic like that. I just want people to think about what's /really/ in it for them before making decisions."
"The word is satisfaction, Elizabeth, and we can never be satisfied when we see the haves and are the have nots." Zaman shrugs. "You're talking about a system of pure capitalism, which is almost as naive as true communism in its assumptions about human nature."
"And you're lucky for that," Sarah offers wryly. "I've seen people out in the rims of civilisation and beyond, people who barely know what a shower /is/ let alone get one with any frequency. So yeah...you're pretty lucky to have that, I think." Then he goes back to Politics. Dagnabbit. "It does...it also gives some people a chance to find out what they're really made of, y'know? Fires of adversity, and all that, and some of those political elections can get pretty darn adverse...which is what you were talking about. Ups and downs." She shrugs helplessly. "I guess all we can try to do is strike a balance, y'know?"
Alexander smirks faintly at Sarah's exasperation at the lack of subject change. "Yeah, I know. Been out ta some of those places. I've been around, here and there. Lady keeps me busy, n'all." He's keeping his head still, however, for Genevieve, other wise he'd be more expressive. "Truth is, I don't really care. About balance, or adversity. I've seen adversity, and most people haven't got a clue. They whine about petty hurts, and ignore the real cruelty. Well, not me. S'my job to deal with that sorta crap."
Genevieve clamps her trap tightly at the talk, and shakes her head no at Alexander belatedly. "No brush," she says, as if not realizing she's said that before. Once she gets past the worst of the frizzing, she starts gathering sections of hair, and smoothing them out in a familiar group of three. With a flash of a grin, she tugs on the hair, and chirps out, "What lady?" She then widens eyes, and shushes quickly, starting a braid, although it's unclear what she'll secure the hair in once she's done with the dressing.
Elizabeth grins and says, "Oh, come on, Zachary. Are you telling me that you'd consider a system with a more even distribution of wealth preferable? Equalizing distribution merely takes away the incentive for the competent to work hard and excel. You need to have some inequality for the system to work with real people - haves and have nots are a necessary side effect of allowing the skilled and the ambitious to rise to the top. Capitalism may not be perfect, but it beats the hell out the alternatives in my book."
"The Bright Lady," says Alexander quietly, relaxing a bit at the familiar tugging and pulling of having his hair braided. He clearly doesn't seem inclined to object, although he does offer Genevieve his leather thongs, either for fastening, or for working into the pattern. Whichever she prefers.
"I said that pure capitalism, laissez-faire, is almost as naive as pure communism, not that it was moreso." Zaman replies with a grin. "A fair distribution, no, but some distribution must occur. If wealth is monopolized at one pole then you get into slavery and other undesirables. Some degree of regulation is needed."
Genevieve checked herself previously, and wisely doesn't ask for any more elaboration. Her slender fingers work through, and with an ah, she snatches up the leather strap, and then once when she finally settles upon the ends, she ties it up. "There. Although there are still some fuzzles up top." She shrugs some, and then stands, before turning her back to the group and taking a few more pictures, with flash this time. "Wonder how the sprinklers are going to make the chalk swirl..." She blinks, and then then casts the group a sidelong glance, as if dwelling upon something.
Alexander chuckles softly, before turning and favoring Genevieve with a bit of a bow. "Thank you." He flicks the braid around so he can glimpse at least the end of it, tracing his finger over the weave before flipping it back over his shoulder. "And I'm sure the patterns will be interesting. M'bey I'll come watch."
"Do you believe that slavery is a necessary consequence of laissez-faire capitalism, then, Zachary?" Elizabeth muses. "I'm not convinced that it necessarily follows - but then again, I'm also not convinced that slavery is necessarily all that undesirable, either. Certainly, slavery as it was practiced in the American South is a bad thing, but if a man wants to sell himself into slavery for his own reasons (be they financial or sexual) who am I to stop him?" She shifts her weight uncomfortably and says apologetically, "I know that it's not a very popular opinion, and I'd certainly never dream of selling myself into slavery, but I believe that true liberty has to include the freedom to renounce that very freedom."
Zaman shrugs. "I'm not going to argue what's right and wrong with you, but I will say that slavery would be the desireable system. No wages, just enough to keep your workers alive while you reap the profit. Then you sell to the more fortunate. I say undesirable, Elizabeth, because that defeats the spirit of capitalism. The competition."
Lady?? Another check against him...he'd already accumulated a couple. The whole 'knowing things your average bum couldn't possibly' thing last night, for instance. Sarah's about to ask the inevitable question when Genevieve asks it for her...and Alex answers it. Bright Lady. Not necessarily a COMMON epithet, but everything else about the man helps click the rest of the facts into place. "Oh." Sarah says, blank with surprise. "I...see." She'd actually not expected much in the way of other angels /around/ here. It changes a few things about what she was assuming about her duties around here. Hmm. Shaking off the shock, she slips back into more familiar ground, offering, "You did a good job," to Genevieve. "He looks even better than before. Pretty impressive, for a homeless person."
Alexander ignores the comments regarding slavery. He has his own opinions on the matter, but this is hardly the time to share them. Straightening up, he tugs his jacket into place, brushing off a few stray bits of grass and cigarette ash. The butt of his cigarette is pinched out, and stowed away someplace in that jacket as the homeless man gets himself squared away. Sarah is favored with a friendly grin, but no direct comment.
Genevieve finally gains enough of her awareness of the area to give a nod and a smile to the commenting Sarah. "Thank ye, ma'am," she says casually, before adding, "If you want to look at the patterns, be here around 8 ish, I guess. Good place to watch the sunrise, open space." She then begins to skip off, without any real farewell to Zaman or Elizabeth, indicating either rudeness or just outright lack of awareness about such proprieties. Hard to tell sometimes.
"But not necessarily, Zachary," Elizabeth argues, pretty much oblivious to Alexander's conversation and hair. "If a slaveowner wants to get the most possible productivity from his workers, he needs to implement a merit-based system of rewards anyway. If he doesn't, then that slaveowner will fail to prosper and his merit-based competition will thrive. Personally, I suspect that capitalism might work well as the incentive system, but I haven't given the matter much thought. But being a slave doesn't necessarily cut one out from a capitalist economy anyway; there are historical cultures which have allowed slaves to own property, including other slaves."
"Ah, but you've said the nasty word in laissez-faire capitalism." Zaman's eyes glitter for a moment as he looks at Elizabeth. "Allowed? No one allows or disallows anything. What participation they have depends solely upon their own, and while yes, the merit system might work you're still cultivating slaves and destroying much of the world, because now the highest virtue is money, and with money power. Ruthless, you might say."
Alexander flicks his gaze in Elizabeth and Zachary's direction. He's well aware of their conversation you can be sure, given the amount of cruelty possible in such a proposed system. But he's also self-aware enough to know that if he gets involved again, he'll just end up angry and inarticulate once more. Genevieve, however, gets a wave farewell from the big man. "I'll be here," he says, before turning back to Sarah.
Elizabeth's brows draw together, and she frowns. "I'll not contest that I'm ruthless, because that's part of the nature of utilitarianism. But I think you're getting caught up in the modern conception of slavery here. One can have economic slavery while still guaranteeing certain rights to slaves, it's that's the government that people have chosen to form. Moreover, you're neglecting the fact that many people's personal utility functions include emotional factors as well as raw wealth; after all, money is pretty useless in itself; the value lies in what you can do with it. That being the case, money is just a means to an ends, and not a virtue in itself. The virtue is utility, or happiness. Almost no one seeks money for money's own sake; people seek money because it's so damn useful. Even the ones who say they want money for itself really want it as a means of keeping score against the competition. If you want examples of brighter virtues, there are people who want money so they can put their kids through college, or to fund homeless shelters. They're all parts of capitalism." Her glance flickers towards Alexander at the mention of homeless shelters.
Zaman chuckles at Elizabeth's thorough response, as if he's pleased rather than beaten. "Well done, Elizabeth. I think you see the truth of the matter, that there is no truth but that we make. Well, I have lingered too long here, I should be on my way. A pleasure as always, Elizabeth."
Sarah shuffles her feet awkwardly. Slavery's an...odd topic for her, she'd rather not get into it. The potential for a great destiny sometimes comes with a terrible circumstance to preface it, after all. So instead, she keeps her attention on Alexander, letting an awkward silence bloom. She does wave to Genevieve, but other than that, for the moment, at least, she remains quiet, unsure exactly what goes after a revelation like that.
"...You teach economics, don't you, Elizabeth?" Alexander glances at the woman and her conversation partner out of the corner of his eyes, the comment pitched to carry. Sarah, in the meantime, gets a smirk. "Y'look like you just got poleaxed, ma'am. Y'okay?"
Elizabeth gives Zachary a funny look and says, "I can't tell if you're serious or if you're just playing with me," she mutters. "But it has been quite interesting talking with you, so I suspect I'll want to repeat the experience. Only next time, can we please be more pleasant?" She glances back at Alex and says drolly, "It shows, does it?"
"Of course." Zaman affirms with a smile, bowing slightly before he turns to walk away. As he leaves he passes Alex, patting the homeless man on the shoulder, the ring on his finger cold and hard. "Don't sweat the small stuff, big guy. It's all just a big game, afterall." Then he removes the hand and keeps walking.
Roll by Alexander: (5) (4) (1)
Alexander starts to tell Zachary to remove his hand and just where to shove it, since the Symphony's being more than a little obscure with regards to the smooth man, when Zachary pulls the hand away himself. "Yeah, whatever. Yer on my little list." He brushes invisible dust off the spot he was touched before turning his attention back to Elizabeth. "Just a bit. Wierd views about slavery though. S'usually not voluntary, you realize, and generally involves beatings, torture and other less pleasant motivations instead of merit, y'see. Cheaper, same results."
Sarah, meanwhile, merely emits a quiet "Gack!" at Alexander's observation of her confusion, before shaking it off quickly. "Oh, uh, right. Sorry. Just noticed something, is all." Internally, she berates herself for providing possibly the worst excuse she's come up with in decades. Then she shuts up again, apparently content to sit back and watch Alexander and Elizabeth talk for now.
Elizabeth says impatiently, "Yes, yes, I know. Which is why I specified earlier that I supported a man's right to sell /himself/ into slavery. I don't support involuntary slavery at all, neither by capture nor by birth. As for whatever level of brutality is involved, I believe that a man should be fully informed of the potential consequences before making such a momentous decision. If people want to negotiate guarantees of good treatment as part of the terms of sale, I highly encourage them."
Alexander regards Elizabeth with a jaundiced eye, before shaking his head slowly. "M'not gonna waste my breath tryin' to change your mind. I'll just go on record that I think 's a bad idea. I can think of a lotta ways a system like that could be twisted, an' I'm hardly the really twisty sort." He glances after the departed Zachary. "I leave that ta folks like him." Sarah gets a smirk from him. "An' just what was it that you realized? Who it is I listen to 'bout the important stuff, yeh?"
Elizabeth sighs, and lets a little glumness show on her face. "I know. I don't entirely understand why people would want to twist it, but I know that they would. Honestly, in what I conceive of to be the ideal society, slavery would be entirely legal as just another form of binding contract, but no one would ever actually choose to be a slave. I know that in the real world there exist dire circumstances that can drive a man to such extremes, but if people would only all think like me circumstances would never get so dire!" She makes a wry grin. "I know it's unrealistic, not mention egotistical, but I'm a Utopian at heart - just a very odd one."
Sarah chuckles bashfully. "Uh, yeah. Something like that." She doesn't say anything more on /that/ subject, though with her recovering sense of the rest of the universe she does seem to be trying to build up some kind of argument regarding...something. But it doesn't come out, not yet.
Alexander watches Sarah out of the corner of his eye. She looks like she's working on a thought, and that can always be interesting. Elizabeth, however, gets most of his attention. "M'a realist. Take it like it is - and deal with the problems. Sure, I try and do the little bit I can t'make it better, but mostly I just deal with the scum a' the earth." The grin is almost feral again. "But then, y'don't need ta worry about that."
Elizabeth raises her eyebrows at Alexander and says, "Although I'm sure that as a homeless bum you come into contact with many people who are decidedly declasse, I suspect that you realize as well as I that the true scum of the earth walk in my social circles quite as much as yours." She meets his eyes with a level stare.
"I'm well aware. But they gotta walk past me every so often." Alexander rolls his shoulders in a languid shrug. "I can see 'em easily enough, God willin'. And you'd be suprised at how much of an effect I can have, if'n I want." He grins a bit. "S'pose you'll be callin' me crazy too, but then, I don' really care."
Elizabeth says thoughtfully, "No, I don't think I'll be calling you crazy, Mister Alex. It would be rude to express such a sentiment out loud and to your face." She smiles impishly and adds, "No comment on whether or not I'll be thinking it, though!"
"Wouldn't be the first time," comments Alexander dryly. "Still. I wonder if you'd be believin' me if I don't tell you what it is Mr. Zachary considers his best virtue, hmm? 'Cause I got an idea of it, heh." He leans against one of the light posts, idly fishing in his pocket for his lighter and the stub end of his cigarette.
Elizabeth wrinkles her nose and moves upwind of Alex and his cigarette. She still answers though, saying coolly, "Why don't you tell me what it is anyway, Mister Alex, and I'll decide for myself whether or not to believe you." She shoots a curious glance at the quiet Sarah, raising her eyebrows slightly.
Sarah wouldn't be surprised if he did know what the lawyer guy thought his best virtue was! She's just be more likely to blame it on 'angel superpowers' (read: Resonance) instead of 'past acquaintances', at this point. She shrugs at Elizabeth, though, adding, "I have to admit I'm a little curious, too. Enlighten us?"
"Power," answers Alexander, applying flame to the end of the cigarette and inhaling heavily before exhaling through his nostrils. "His greatest virtue is his accumulation of power, for it's own sake." He snaps the lighter shut, closing his eyes as he leans back. "He sees weakness as a sin. Now, m'sure that could be all normal n'such... but I dun' like it. He rings... wrong ta' me. Likes ta twist everythin' in his favor. Y'best be careful. I've warned ye' before, and m'sure yer dead set on it. But one day, him'n'me are gonna have it out."
Roll by Elizabeth: (1) (2) (3)
Elizabeth says calmly, "I see. Yes, I recall your warning, and I have every intention of being careful, but there's a difference between being careful and hiding under a rock. Zachary is a very interesting person, and I believe that I have a lot to learn from making his acquaintance." She rolls her eyes. "Would it make you feel better if I informed a friend before accepting any invitations back to his place?"
Alexander shrugs. "Not my lookout. S'your ass on the line, not mine. But I'd be remiss in bein' a nice guy if I didn' say anything." Blowing smoke out his nose, as is his won't, he glances up at the sky. "Just be sure when the day comes, you don't get in my way. Nice only takes me so far. Then it's all duty."
Elizabeth says sarcastically, "I assure you, I have no intention of indulging in fisticuffs with you even if you and Zachary come to blows. Do I look like I'm that stupid? I'm no bruiser, and I'm quite capable of screaming like a girl and calling for help when two gentlemen of my acquauintance come to blows." She glowers at Alexander, then adds as an afterthought, "And I don't believe that being a nice guy is particularly in your job description, either."
Alexander grins widely at that, looking positively draconian with the smoke still leaking from his nostrils. "Not usually, no." He folds his arms across his chest, and gazes over Genevieve's artwork. "She really did get it right with that bit of art though. S'not perfect, but then, perfection's not easy."
Sarah, confused and unsure what /exactly/ is going on here aside from the fact that the homeless guy is apparently a servitor of Fire, and probably a Malakim besides, tries to reassess the situation with a quick glimpse into the Symphony around Elizabeth. Oh boy does /that/ not work. Her ears'll be burning for a couple minutes, so for now all she can do is note Alexander's observations - and note to herself to stay /away/ from that man he was talking about.
Aside from that, she just...listens, for now.
Elizabeth makes a noncommittal "Hmm" noise, following Alexander's gaze to look at the surrounding ring of fire. "Haven't you ever seen one of those sweaters with a label reading: The slubs and irregularities in this fabric are natural products of the handweaving process, are are not to be regarded as imperfections. They are evidence of the authenticity of your garment and enhance its natural beauty?" she asks absently.
"Yup. I didn't say I expected perfection, did I?" Alexander takes a final pull on his cigarette, stopping just before the coal at the end reaches his lips. He tosses the stub onto the concrete, and grinds it out with his foot. "It's captured the essence of fire, however. The motion is implied, and if you gaze at it long enough, you can almost feel the warmth caress you." He smirks faintly. "In fact, I'd try to show it to someone, but I suspect me bringing her for a visit would upset a few folks."
Sarah coughs. "Quite a few, I imagine," she quips, mostly to herself as she finally regains a certain degree of composure. "But you are right. It is...beautiful, in its simplicity."
Elizabeth shoots Alexander a sideays glance and says archly, "If you want to invite a lady friend over to admire the art, don't let me stop you. But I hope you'll understand if I choose not to stick around for your art appreciation date. They say that three's a crowd. Better watch your timing, though; the artist said that the sprinklers will come on in the morning and wash it away."
Alexander chuckles. "No. I'm not bringing her here. Not yet, anyhow. I don't think she'd be too happy with the way I've had things explained to me." He smiles slowly. "Course, that might just be why I'm here, hmm?"
Elizabeth raises her eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'the way you've had things explained to you'? Who explained what to you, and where was the explanation deficient?"
Alexander laughs softly. "Deficient? Not hardly. Uncomfortable for a man like me? Better believe it. And if you don't know, I'm not tellin'. S'not my place to explain, and you seem like you're not gonna be running afoul of the status quo much in any case."
Sarah arches an eyebrow too. "I'd...like to know that too, actually," she remarks. Explanations? Was there something she was supposed to hear? She'd've thought Yves would've mentioned anything /important/...unless this isn't anything on that particular topic. Which is entirely possible, she's still a little dizzy about what the HELL these kooks are talking about.
She's missing Remy. There's something to be said for his kind's nigh-inability to be anything less than straightforward.
Elizabeth looks... confused. Momentarily. "Well," she says, "that was quite uninformative, but I suppose it may be all for the best, if you're truly involved in some sort of hush-hush secret doings. I wouldn't fancy getting fitted for a pair of concrete galoshes for knowing too much." She stage whispers to Sarah, "Do /you/ have any idea what he's going on about?"
Alexander smirks faintly. "I wouldn't worry about it much. Now, if you excuse me, I gotta get off university grounds. I'm not really wantin' to get dragged off by campus security. M'sure they'd be polite n' all, but better to not give 'em reason." He pushes away from the light post, heading down the path at a slow ramble.
Sarah, while still trying to figure out /what/ the hell The Incredible Homeless Man was doing there, is nonetheless still /more/ than sharp enough to realize that people in the dark ought to be kept there. It's not /nice/, but sometimes a little lie is better than an earthshattering truth. Thus, as Alexander moves off, she leans over slightly and replies, "Not a clue. Probably some kind of pyromaniac Burning Earth Society, or something." Or burning something, anyway...
She does, however, wave Alex farewell, and make a mental note in the equivalent of blinding red pen to have a sit-down with him ASAP.
"Good-bye, Mister Alex" - although too quietly for him to hear. Turning back to Sarah she says, "Burning Earth Society? That sounds rather unsavory. It hints at the 'scorched earth' school of warfare, which is quite nasty."
Elizabeth hesitantly waves good-bye to Alex as well. In fact, she actually says "Good-bye, Mister Alex" - although too quietly for him to hear. Turning back to Sarah she says, "Burning Earth Society? That sounds rather unsavory. It hints at the 'scorched earth' school of warfare, which is quite nasty."
"I was making it up, Elizabeth," Sarah replies, chuckling and shaking her head ruefully. "I wouldn't be surprised if it /existed/, somewhere, though." She takes amoment to think about Elizabeth's words, but then nods thoughtfully, and says, "But y'know, you're right, it does. Not a pleasant thing to call to mind, is it?"
"No, no it isn't," Elizabeth agrees. "But you're right, he does make it sound as if he is part of some sort of secret society." She chuckles nervously. "Were I more paranoid, the word conspiracy might seem more appropriate."
Sarah chuckles, just as nervously, though perhaps for different reasons. "Yeah!" she says. "I'd almost say the same thing, but...nah. We're probably just reading too far into it. If he's part of any 'secret societies' it's probably a bunch of homeless people off in an alley somewhere burning garbage to watch the flames, or something." She grimaces at how callous the words sound, and hastily appends, "Not that there's anything basically wrong with their condition, or anything..."
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