The brasserie is a warm place in the London winter. Enough walls protect the bakery and cafe from the mall's open-air coolness, and many patrons decide to take a respite in the warm brasserie. The seating is self-service, though a couple of waitresses move around, taking orders and clearing tables.
     It's hard to mistake the woman sitting in a booth near the entrance of the cafe. A table lamp causes her booth to glow, but the calm radiating from her comes from within. On the table sits an open book, a history of the city of London.
     Here, she is known as Alexandra Salem, Planner for the City of Westminster and Greater London. An urban architect of the highest caliber...and one of David's oldest and most faithful servants. Rumors abound that she is the next Archangel, and her greatest calling card is the civilized human world as we know it.
     These days, she's returned to London. Not sure why...London's an old place, long beyond needing her, certainly. Established and moving into middle age, London is easily cared for by younger hands, servitors who need time in the complex human structure of a prehistoric ville now become world financial capital. But Salem...her real name...Angel of Cities and Master of Geomancy, has returned to one of her first grand projects, to see to its present needs herself.

     Cryptic letters always make the cherub a touch nervous, you never really know who you're rushing off to meet. That many of his memories are still torn and shattered, and possibly lost forever, is something that keeps Jonathan similarly paranoid. Some self-doubt aside, he is no longer that all but broken Angel that kept a young girl out of trouble and helped her find her destiny a few years back. The Jonathan of old has begun to creep back, both to his friends delight and his foes contempt.
     That said, he comes in out of the winter and into the comfortable warmth of the Brasserie. It prompts him to remove his jacket and drap it over one arm. The multitude of buttons clacking softly as he does so. He looks like one of those old rockers from the 1970s that was punk before punk was cool and never looked back. He likely looks quite out of place compared to Ms. Salem, but he's immediatly drawn to her as he enters the cozy room. Approaching her table he looks down at the book there and says, "Looks like pretty good reading. Learning something about London you didn't know before?"

     "Not really," She says, looking up with a smile. "Have a seat, Jonathan," Salem says, closing her book. Dressed sharply, she crosses her legs beneath the table, setting the book beside her on the bench. "Good to see you again. You are looking better," she nods. "A good improvement. Congratulations."
     "Can I get you a coffee or tea? Some dessert, maybe?"

     The cherub looks down at himself and noticing that he's wearing a fishnet tank-top and black leather pants he nods to Salem, "Well thank you for thinking so. My appearance is a bit ostentacious but it serves my purposes well." He tells her with a crooked smile.
     Sliding into the booth across from Salem, the stocky-vesseled cherub says, "I think I'll just take some coffee for right now, but I just might have a look at the dessert tray a bit later." never pass up a good dessert after all. "Thanks for getting in touch with me. I was suprised to see that you were in town..."

     "I am," Salem nods, "...as with us all, I go where I am needed. And London needs me. Haven't you seen all the sprawling expansion?" she grins.
     The waitress comes over and Salem asks for a coffee while motioning also to her emptying teapot. A nod and the girl heads off.
     "So, what brings you here? Well, I know the direct reason, but..." Salem smiles, blonde hair pulled back today, "...what are your immediate needs and plans? I presume you have some..."

     "Well as you can imagine, Michael formulates his plans down to the finest of details, but when he's telling you what he wants you to do, he can often paint in broad strokes." Jonathan says with a slight smile, "As for my immediate needs and plans I have mostly been trying to identify anyone influential to the opposition around the city and figuring out what their agenda is. Part two, since we are apparantly outnumbered in London, is to find any dissenters and see if I can drive any wedges into place."

     Salem nods, blonde wisps around her face. "Simple and direct. As Michael is," she smiles. "Well," Salem inhales, sitting back against her booth, "...I will point you in the directions that I know." Angels of David aren't known for gathering much moss either. "Alakim is here, apparently as a network executive at the BBC. You'll want to talk to Oramene for that...she has been on him for a while." Marc and Jean would be proud. "I can let her know you are here." A pause comes, as the waitress approaches...
     Two cups are set down upon the table, and a fresh pot of tea for Salem. Her cooled pot and other cup are taken away.
     "Let's see. Julian Kane," she smiles, "...has managed to quickly integrate himself into the City. Not surprising, but...his speed is impressive. A year's time, no less. A few others are following him. There is the usual complement of allies: Kindred, magic users. If you care about them, I can digress, but I'd rather stick to the topic at hand..."
     "And...a few...ethereals are making themselves known. That..." Salem's lips purse, "...is perhaps the most interesting and disturbing thing. I think there is some relationships, but I have not been able to tie them all together..."

     Well Kindred and magic users and the like, He's grown to expect those in places like London, it just seems to be their kind of city. Etherals normally would've gotten his interested fully, but save for the one name you dropped just previous to them all, "Julian Kane? He's set up here?" Well damn, he's likely to make Jonathan right quickly. The cherub shakes his head and takes his cup of coffee for a quick sip.
     "That will complicate things..." Or it could be an angle to play, depending on what pies Julian has his fingers in these days. "I'm certainly no expert when it comes to ethereals, but I know a few people that have had alot more dealings with them.. I might contact some friends and call in a marker or two."

     "Really?" Interesting. "I think Despair and Decay may be around...I have had to encourage a bit of planning for some facade restorations this year. There is an increase of suicides, even before the winter season changes. And if they are around, more than likely Huitzilopchtili or Mictalantechtli are guiding them. And if that is so..." Salem sighs, "...that suggests Beleth..."
     The exhale is audible. There's the linking chain between undead, magic, ethereals, and perhaps the minions of princes themselves. Salem picks up her cup and takes a sip of tea.
     "Maybe Julian is behind it all," Salem says, "I cannot say. Though, Despair, Decay, and the Aztecs aren't his type. They tend to bring down a party, if you know what I mean..."

     "Suicides don't really sound like Julian's style... I'd think he'd find that wasteful." Jack shakes his head and takes up his coffee cup and drinks the last of it down in a few quick gulps. "Aztecs on the other hand, they definitely would seem to be Beleth's kind of lackeys." Setting down the empty coffee-cup, Jack slides out of the booth and stands.
     "Thank you for the coffee and for the leads Ms. Salem, I very much appreciate your time. However for now I'm afraid that I have an appointment with an old.. friend that is in town." Translation, he's going to extort a little info out of someone that owes him. "Be well Salem."

Posted by rowan at June 24, 2003 10:41 PM