| Trillion Dollar Shot Gun Over the Fire Place | |||||
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| What: Jack Hawksmoor delivers an ominous warning from the Economy...to the Economy. | |||||
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Kilroy has been learning to listen to the Economy...he's practicing. It's why he hasn't studied the occult yet, to keep his mind open to its speech but its alien, even for a spirit and he can only hear so much. There are...rumblings...echoes of something in the distant future it keeps trying to warn him about, similar to what it told him about his father, but his father is dead...so what could it be?
The pull is insistent, however, and he begins to look about a large city square, bustling with people, moving towards Jack.
Guy who talks to the economy, meet guy who talks to cities. Currently pretending to be...well, not quite a bum, but he's in an alleyway, not wearing shoes, and reading yesterday's paper. Which would sort of point in the vague bum direction, if not quite arrive there.
Kilroy looks up at Jack. Grandpa always taught him that the most innocuous of beings were usually the most worthy of attentions. He nods to Jack, "Er...Hi." He considers a moment, listening to the Economy which is just basically saying 'talk to this guy'..."So...my name is Kilroy and you are?" Notice anything cosmically weird lately? Are you a God? Metahuman? Do you have the secret map to Xanadu? How does one start a conversation in which there is no subject....
The paper is dropped, to reveal a pretty nondescript face. Dark eyes peer at you for a long moment. "Jack Hawksmoor." MYabe he's heard the name. Maybe he hasn't. Jack tries to avoid such things as fame.
Kilroy is looking backwards at Jack's purchases over the last few weeks. What does this guy eat? Freegan? People? He is curious, but looking for something to say. As he does though, in the whispers of the city, even as an anthropamorphic construct, it becomes clearer to Jack. This man is the Economy, little known to most but on some fringe ideas...a legendary figure, long thought dead. And the Economy is speaking to New York...it is saying..."Your father will return....and the People Who Aren't Will Walk if He gets the True Coin." Hokey right?
Kilroy considers, "Er....so...I was kind of...told....to...find you. Nice to meet you Mr. Harkmoor." He has no idea who Jack is. He doubts he has any idea who Kilroy is. "Feel...any...I dunno...impending senses of doom?"
Jack Hawksmoor arches an eyebrow. Then he falls silent for a moment. Well, except that for that moment his right eye glints red in a disturbingly Terminator-esque fashion. Jack Hawksmoor blinks. "New York likes you," is the first thing he informs Kilroy of. "Oh, and watch out for coins. Trillion dollar coins. City seems to think there is one somewhere around."
Speechless. Kilroy's ...flattered. "Really?" He hasn't been feeling really popular lately for a lot of reasons, but knowing...someone...something...likes him is ...helpful. "Trillion dollar coins? They MADE it? Could they be that dumb?" He looks worried. VERY worried. So much POWER in one concentrated area...
"Also, your dad might not be quite as dead as you think." He shrugs. "City's not always right. She only knows what flows through her, and sometimes it's lies, sometimes it's illusions. She still likes you."
Silence. Awkward silence. That's...good and bad news. Good for the part of Kilroy that naively believes he can reform his father. Bad for...well, almost everyone else, including Kilroy. "Are you a priest to the city?" Jack Hawksmoor's eyes have now returned to normal. He considers that. "Priest, nah, priest implies I bow down and grovel and worship and stuff. I just talk to cities. It's a handy trick."
Kilroy says, "Hah. Well you've got a point there. The Economy is too...well...inhuman to really worship. I don't expect salvation there, but I think I use the term 'priest' in the granting of powers sense. And yes, speaking to spirits can be a very handy trick. I'm supposed to eventually learn to talk to any spirit, but right now I'm still getting a hang of just the one for the most part. I owe you a debt Mr. Hawksmoor. If cash is ever an issue, I can easily provide you the means to obtain what you or the city needs."
"I'd imagine you could. You talk to the spirit of the economy?" He's not at all surprised. If cities have spirits, then why not other things? Including entire spheres of human endeavor.
Kilroy says, "Yeah. I suppose it might be harder with the economy because, really it's the economy of...well...everywhere. Like this planet, this galaxy, alternate timelines, the future, the past...all of it. So its a bit like the shiny red ant in the ant farm talking to a six year old."
Jack Hawksmoor laughs at that. "I can imagine that. But it also strikes me as highly useful." Ultimate insider trader. "Good job you don't seem inclined towards crime."
Kilroy frowns a bit at something there, "Let's say some consider me a criminal, but I believe in the Declaration of Human Rights, and I follow the law, so long as the law is actually applied. Corruption gives me a lot of leeway...and ...well, when you say 'insider trading' I can see just how inside it has been lately. Too much. Way too much. They're lucky I don't go all robin hood on their asses, but too much of that doesn't solve anything."
Jack Hawksmoor nods. "I suppose some places could use a bit of judicious...redistribution of wealth." And he could do some pretty good insider trading himself. He just generally doesn't.
Kilroy says, "they could, but that's not my job. My job is to fix the 'metaphysical stuff' the clogs in the drains, the unnatural disruption. Humans deserve freedom to have their own decisions made for them. I'm not God, I only serve one and if he's content to let them do things their way then so am I. I find other ways to tilt the balance."
"I don't claim to be God either." Although he's been accused of it. "I just do my job. And sometimes that means tilting the balance a little, I suppose." Ultimately, he's pretty sure they're on the same side.
A small smile and smirkish grin graces Kilroy's lips,"Sometimes that's all you can do. I help the underdog as much as I can without turning over the apple cart. Do you have..like...a cellphone or some method of contacting you? Do you serve all cities or just New York?"
"Any city, but I can only talk to the one I happen to be in." He tugs out a business card, tossing it to Kilroy. "If it doesn't work, means I ain't in the United States."
Kilroy nods and hands Jack a card with a magnetic strip, "It has $20,000 in it. Untracable. If you withdraw $2.14 I'll know to contact you. Nice to meet you Mr. Hawksmoor."
Kilroy says, “Anywhere.”
Jack Hawksmoor takes it. If any of the money disappears otherwise, then it will probably show up as a donation...or as coats in a homeless shelter. Jack does things like that.
Kilroy salutes and walks off, "Good shepherding."
Kilroy has been learning to listen to the Economy...he's practicing. It's why he hasn't studied the occult yet, to keep his mind open to its speech but its alien, even for a spirit and he can only hear so much. There are...rumblings...echoes of something in the distant future it keeps trying to warn him about, similar to what it told him about his father, but his father is dead...so what could it be?
The pull is insistent, however, and he begins to look about a large city square, bustling with people, moving towards Jack.
Guy who talks to the economy, meet guy who talks to cities. Currently pretending to be...well, not quite a bum, but he's in an alleyway, not wearing shoes, and reading yesterday's paper. Which would sort of point in the vague bum direction, if not quite arrive there.
Kilroy looks up at Jack. Grandpa always taught him that the most innocuous of beings were usually the most worthy of attentions. He nods to Jack, "Er...Hi." He considers a moment, listening to the Economy which is just basically saying 'talk to this guy'..."So...my name is Kilroy and you are?" Notice anything cosmically weird lately? Are you a God? Metahuman? Do you have the secret map to Xanadu? How does one start a conversation in which there is no subject....
The paper is dropped, to reveal a pretty nondescript face. Dark eyes peer at you for a long moment. "Jack Hawksmoor." MYabe he's heard the name. Maybe he hasn't. Jack tries to avoid such things as fame.
Kilroy is looking backwards at Jack's purchases over the last few weeks. What does this guy eat? Freegan? People? He is curious, but looking for something to say. As he does though, in the whispers of the city, even as an anthropamorphic construct, it becomes clearer to Jack. This man is the Economy, little known to most but on some fringe ideas...a legendary figure, long thought dead. And the Economy is speaking to New York...it is saying..."Your father will return....and the People Who Aren't Will Walk if He gets the True Coin." Hokey right?
Kilroy considers, "Er....so...I was kind of...told....to...find you. Nice to meet you Mr. Harkmoor." He has no idea who Jack is. He doubts he has any idea who Kilroy is. "Feel...any...I dunno...impending senses of doom?"
Jack Hawksmoor arches an eyebrow. Then he falls silent for a moment. Well, except that for that moment his right eye glints red in a disturbingly Terminator-esque fashion. Jack Hawksmoor blinks. "New York likes you," is the first thing he informs Kilroy of. "Oh, and watch out for coins. Trillion dollar coins. City seems to think there is one somewhere around."
Speechless. Kilroy's ...flattered. "Really?" He hasn't been feeling really popular lately for a lot of reasons, but knowing...someone...something...likes him is ...helpful. "Trillion dollar coins? They MADE it? Could they be that dumb?" He looks worried. VERY worried. So much POWER in one concentrated area...
"Also, your dad might not be quite as dead as you think." He shrugs. "City's not always right. She only knows what flows through her, and sometimes it's lies, sometimes it's illusions. She still likes you."
Silence. Awkward silence. That's...good and bad news. Good for the part of Kilroy that naively believes he can reform his father. Bad for...well, almost everyone else, including Kilroy. "Are you a priest to the city?" Jack Hawksmoor's eyes have now returned to normal. He considers that. "Priest, nah, priest implies I bow down and grovel and worship and stuff. I just talk to cities. It's a handy trick."
Kilroy says, "Hah. Well you've got a point there. The Economy is too...well...inhuman to really worship. I don't expect salvation there, but I think I use the term 'priest' in the granting of powers sense. And yes, speaking to spirits can be a very handy trick. I'm supposed to eventually learn to talk to any spirit, but right now I'm still getting a hang of just the one for the most part. I owe you a debt Mr. Hawksmoor. If cash is ever an issue, I can easily provide you the means to obtain what you or the city needs."
"I'd imagine you could. You talk to the spirit of the economy?" He's not at all surprised. If cities have spirits, then why not other things? Including entire spheres of human endeavor.
Kilroy says, "Yeah. I suppose it might be harder with the economy because, really it's the economy of...well...everywhere. Like this planet, this galaxy, alternate timelines, the future, the past...all of it. So its a bit like the shiny red ant in the ant farm talking to a six year old."
Jack Hawksmoor laughs at that. "I can imagine that. But it also strikes me as highly useful." Ultimate insider trader. "Good job you don't seem inclined towards crime."
Kilroy frowns a bit at something there, "Let's say some consider me a criminal, but I believe in the Declaration of Human Rights, and I follow the law, so long as the law is actually applied. Corruption gives me a lot of leeway...and ...well, when you say 'insider trading' I can see just how inside it has been lately. Too much. Way too much. They're lucky I don't go all robin hood on their asses, but too much of that doesn't solve anything."
Jack Hawksmoor nods. "I suppose some places could use a bit of judicious...redistribution of wealth." And he could do some pretty good insider trading himself. He just generally doesn't.
Kilroy says, "they could, but that's not my job. My job is to fix the 'metaphysical stuff' the clogs in the drains, the unnatural disruption. Humans deserve freedom to have their own decisions made for them. I'm not God, I only serve one and if he's content to let them do things their way then so am I. I find other ways to tilt the balance."
Jack Hawksmoor nods, and then vanishes back behind yesterday's paper. Hopefully anyone who saw the exchange won't think it was a drug deal or something.