Brickley Street never eclipse someone's sky

No pushback in his comment, so maybe he would lyricize this ideation. Give her a writing credit if he got her name one day.

And then names, names he knew but had neither faces nor voices to associate with.

Neither, he wanted to reply. Would easily admit, and even gloat about, being Safiya's. But if this one wasn't up to date on clutch politics, it wasn't his job to inform her.

"I play in Alder most of the time. Tonight was an exception." He replied.

That was plenty of information.

Not a bad response. It had been sort of inflammatory phrasing on her part, particularly given everything he'd shared—they'd shared—about not being owned by their sires. Kaida was glad it'd been taken in stride.

Alder Heights. She was faintly surprised to realize that was the preferred answer. Not that she'd be showing up to any of his shows in the town.

"Shame. At least I can come when you play here. Good thing the Reignhart clutch didn't last." Hurr hurr.

Oh, he had a repeat customer, huh? Not fully surprising, and yet, a little.

Brows rose at the idea of a Reignhart clutch. Hadn't heard anything about that. He knew he wouldn't have moved into a claimed city last year, and while his taste for luxuries had mellowed a little...

There was a chance he would have chosen a different county, and missed out on all the connections he made here.

Might still be under Nadia's suggestions.

"Yeah. Good riddance." He decided, woefully uninformed but knowing the details important to him.

It was enough.

A soft laugh for what she absolutely assumed was an ignorant but on the money response. For all she knew this man had been lurking in Alder, plinking out his piano tunes for the entirety of that eleven years. Having been distinctly discouraged from exploring that town, she imagined there were numerous vampires she'd never crossed paths with in her previous time in the county. So she was in no position to say whether he'd been familiar with Yuna's clutch's existence.

What he surely didn't know was her relationship to that clutch, central role in dismantling it, or how they had lightly discussed the matter already. And while that wasn't immediately funny as fuck, it only became more so the more she sat with it. The laughter returned a little stronger, one solid guffaw followed by quiet shakes.

"Mmm," she hummed, running from head voice back down into her typical lower register. "Yeah." And a final little round of chuckles, shaking her head.

Territory was such bullshit anyway. All clutches should be nomadic.

Maybe one day she'd tell him why this was so funny. Maybe he could ask around, details about this Reignhart clutch.

But he found he cared little about it on itself. It was the story that intrigued him, and he could wait for it to be bestowed upon him, or not.

"I'm Misha."

A little offering, no strings attached. He would like her name in exchange, or at least a name, but he could continue to call her Stalker.

The Space Dust Stalker.

Another question which would have topped many lists but couldn't compete with the actual point of connection that had led to this meeting. And, more pettily, which she just hadn't wanted to ask to avoid sounding like she cared that much. A tricky fucking balance when you were out mAkInG fRiEnDs.

"Misha the pianist," she tried out, again with a little glance. It wasn't quite a familiar name, but close. She'd known a Miś in Kraków. A clutchmate. Bit of a tool, but who wasn't? He'd been a quiet man, withdrawn and observant. Maybe why she hadn't hated his company. Some small reminder of Asao.

Not a Polish name, she was sure, but something close. Some brand of Slavic, likely. Or fucking Romanian, for maximum YA Dracula points. She wasn't awesome at etymology or whatever, not outside her immediate realm of experience.

"Kaida," was exchanged after brief consideration. It would likely get back to Ness, which... she supposed didn't really matter. Not with the way things had gone. Or also might lead to a vaguely better understanding of her view on the Reignhart clutch. Beauregard knew who'd run it, knew as well of the relation. A possible thread.

Also possible none of that would happen. She couldn't know what anyone would do with her name, including maybe nothing. But always the worst possibilities ran through her mind.

"Kaida the Space Dust Stalker." He returned with a little smirk.

Of course he wouldn't use her name is lyrics, but maybe one of the same origin. Would look it up later.

"Is that name a secret?" He asked.

He still considered Ness her hostage after all, and it was a fine line to walk.

It would have been a snort, except she'd also started to scoff. so some weird, somehow still nasal sound came out of her mouth. Space dust stalker. She wouldn't be putting that on her business card. Something to remember though. Stupid. Not in the worst way.

His next words, though, got an incredulous little stare. What a... weirdly considerate question. She hadn't expected it. Just covering his bases, probably. Forestalling future wrath. Still.

"It might get a grimace or two out of your clutch," she shrugged. "Just as likely no one will recall it." The night to night had enough problems, particularly given the compounding complications of public awareness. Law enforcement. All that shit. Who the fuck had time to think about some random troublemaker who'd disappeared two years ago?

Catrina, heh, but it didn't sound like he talked to her much.

"I'll be annoyed if it ends up in a press release somewhere, but otherwise, go nuts." A beat. "Is yours secret?" She doubted it, Mr Fucking Gregarious over here, friend of the living.

Good. He had no plans to circulate it, but as a man who enjoyed his anonymity in some settings, he liked to know other's people's preferences.

"Not anymore." He replied. No one was looking for him anymore, or at least... if it was Xylah, he doubted she would burn him on sight now. "I don't like when others share my story, though."

It was his own privilege, and no one else's.

Not anymore? Was this alluding to a time before he'd violently emancipated himself? Just something about the security of a clutch? Fucking ha.

It didn't really matter. She was apparently free to tell people she knew Misha. Most likely she wouldn't, but options were nice, she guessed. Except not free to tell them of his story. His trauma and revenge.

More than likely this time that she wouldn't. Veritably guaranteed. Parallels were too close. Broadly, sure, but...

A young victimhood, long shattered along with those who'd caused it? Yeah, that was specifically the shit she didn't spread around.

Though how to express as much? Kaida wasn't much a fan of solemn vows. Always hit her bullshit detector hard. "Why do you want me to believe you so fucking badly?" But too much flippancy and she might as well just shrug. After a moment of thought, she raised her right hand like she was being sworn in on a witness stand.

"Just some unshaven pianist who doesn't hate being a vampire." All anyone needed to know, should she speak of him at all. After a moment she added, "I'm surprised you told me." She'd asked lots of little questions; it wasn't like he'd just monologued at her. But still, he'd been more open than...

"I wouldn't have."

U n s h a v e n.

That had him finally undo his folded arms to rub the back of his hand against his cheek. Guess he might be due. Maybe he would ask for opinions.

Also yeah, he guessed she didn't share as much as he did, and it was okay. He had indulged her in part to reduce the need for her to return to Ness for further questioning, but beyond that...

"Answering questions helps to clarify things in my head." He replied. As if had for when Bree casually interviewed him. "And you're not unpleasant company."

A tiny satisfied grin sat beneath her mostly neutral features for the little beard check. Always fun to see your words have an impact.

... Maybe not always. But this time.

The explanation for his comparative openness had her head tilting in an uncertain nod, seeing his point even if she still wouldn't have followed his example. No scoff, snort, huff, or anything else followed. Silence as she glanced away once more to examine a darkened storefront, let her gaze trail up to the roof.

Not unpleasant company. Mission accomplished, huh?

"That," was barely preceded by the quietest throat clearing in the history of the planet, "keep to yourself. I've got a reputation to maintain."

The tiny grin persisted.