Bass Clef Club
Bass Clef is a fair sized Jazz club with the lighting dimmed so that the booths and tables along the back and side walls of the cafe area are slightly shadowed and more private. Eight booths line the bricked walls, four on each side of the club. To get up into the booths there is a single step so that they are not on the same level as the rest of the floor. The walls are decorated with posters from past and upcoming events and entertainers. Several cafe-style tables have been set up in the center of the club with two to four chairs surrounding each. Closer to the bar there are taller tables, being close to forty-four inches in height so that someone could stand next to it and rest their elbows upon them as they leaned in against them.
Across from the large wooden door that is the entrance, there is a very short stage comprised of black marble. In the center of the stage is a grand piano, and enough room for the remainder of the jazz-band to set up. The stage is normally lit up with a spotlight, making it the most illuminated area in the entire club.
Settled on the right wall is the bar. The lights around the bar don't seem to be as dim as those in the rest of the club, but the lighting is still very low in order to keep the atmosphere of the rest of the establishment. Behind the bar the wall is done up in aqua-colored tile before the shelving for the various types of beverages; including soda. A door behind the bar presumably leads to the kitchen and storage areas.
The crowd is fairly light for a Thursday evening within the Club, the light jazz strummings of a simple quartet wafting through the air to create a rather laissez-faire atmosphere. Having secured one of the booths along the bricked wall furthest from the stage, the young Niveus nurses her glass of tea as her fingers idly twirl about her straw in patient wait of her scheduled companions. Samantha takes a moment to peek at the time upon her watch, shifting a little uncomfortably in her seat with the anticipation of the meeting to come.
—
The only reason Ivan has shown up period is because someone had urged him to continue on as always and the meeting had already been scheduled. And so, he'll show up alright. But he wont enjoy it. He'd much rather prefer to be at home, tending to the wounds of his recently attacked roommate. As he stalks through the club, dressed crisply and professionally, his body language is tense and uncomfortable. The frown on his face already indicative of a fairly sour mood.
"Evening," he offers Samantha once catching sight of her, cool as he slides into the seat opposite of her. His fingers are latched together impatiently once he has settled down and his eyes dart around the club. "He's not here yet."
—
A figure watches over the Club from a booth out of the way and because he prefers to be unnoticed for now, but it's given him a clear view of the brunette's booth and when Ivan joins her, a smile graces Dietrich's lips as the vampire stands and makes his way towards the booth. On reaching it he grins, "Wrong, Mr. Fontane. I was here before Samantha was." He smiles to the Niveus, giving her an approving nod of his head before he slides in to join her so the two are sitting across from Ivan. "I've had a rather interesting talk with a mutual acquaintance of ours, Mr. Fontane. Rest assured that your prior declarations that I was concerned about were put to rest and that currently I bear you no ill will. But I rather hate to let a meeting go to waste especially when Miss Niveus went to so much trouble on my behalf to set it up."
—
"I was beginning to think you had changed your mind, Ivan," the greeting is exchanged warmly with a faint curl of her lips as the smile falters slightly with the rather cool and detatched demeanor she is accorded in return. Her gaze slips over to take notice of the approaching vampire at the sound of his voice, dipping her own head in a faint greeting before her gaze slips to divide between both men equally.
"I thought perhaps it would be best to select a venue where we would be afforded a degree of privacy without placing either of you at any undue risk," Samantha replies softly as her gaze finally draws away to lower to her glass of tea, "Regardless of what animosity may or may not linger between the two of you, we cannot afford to cast any sort of spotlight upon our own 'community'. The last thing we need is some sort of foolish war or feud between the covens and vampires — for I am certain we all have plenty of enemies enough without needing to add an entire race to the list."
—
Dietrich may be grinning as he slides into the booth, but Ivan is not. His eyes narrow coolly, casually, as he sits back in the booth and begins to tap the tips of his fingers against the wood of the table before him, a thinly disguised veil of irritation shining from his person. Green flicker towards Samantha as she offers her own two cents in the matter, and his tapping becomes more pronounced. Archedly so.
"Let me begin," he drawls, low and dangerous in tone. Oh yes, he is in quite a mood tonight, "by issuing a warning, Mr. Eberle. You were very fortunate to get off as you did. And I behoove you to stay out of business that is not your own, or bad things will happen. If I hear of you involving anymore citizens…" He lets the threat hang there, before snorting darkly. "And stay the fuck away from my sisters."
It is only then that his hard gaze flies over to Samantha, his lips curling into a cold, humorless smile. "An entire race? You think Mr. Eberle represents an entire race of people? Hell, you think I represent an entire race of people?" The thought is enough to prompt a laugh from him.
—
Dietrich stares hard at Ivan when the warning/threat is leveled and he raises an eyebrow, "Careful, Mr. Fontane. You have Mr. Grant's favor for now, but that does not last forever. And even he cannot ignore one such as you when your mouth writes checks you cannot cash. And please refrain from trying to have me killed in future. It just pisses me off." He glances to Samantha, "Mr. Fontane here is in cahoots with a few vampires and vampiric law is prietty strict about certain information getting passed onto mortals. He tried to play like I was telling mortals things they shouldn't know. Which would have resulted in my death had they believed it." He levels a -hard- look at Ivan. "Next time I hear about it Mr. Fontane, I will not be so forgiving. Do you understand that? And if your sisters want to learn from me, I shall teach them and it will be their choice, not yours." He ignores the race comments for now, leaning back to let Samantha talk more.
—
Ivan's laugh prompts an arch of the young Niveus' brow as she sighs softly, "No, Ivan, I do not believe you represent the entirety of the Witch race. However, that would be mostly because I know better than to simply assume you do." Her words grow softer as she glances back towards Dietrich, digesting his own explanation with a faint shake of her head.
"With all due respect, Mr. Eberle, the only reason I even agreed to have any dealings with a vampire at all is because you were once one of my own — even if it was many years ago. I harbor no ill will towards your people, nor do I have any desire to count them among my friends," Samantha finally redirects her attentions back to Ivan as she stresses softly, "Every choice you make reflects upon the covens, Ivan, from the people you hold business dealings with down to the private company you keep. Those you cross will not see you as Ivan Fontane, a problem in need of handling — but as Ivan Fontane, a Witch in need of handling. You issue warnings concerning your sisters, but your own actions and company place them in far more danger than anyone else ever could. Covens have been slaughtered over foolish games like this, and I am sorry but I, for one, really am tired of all the senseless death."
—
Ivan smiles to Dietrich then. A chilling, cruel sort of smile. "I don't have Mr. Grants favor." He corrects him simply enough, though he does not elaborate on that point any further. "And I would suggest that you refrain from underestimating what I can do. You will regret it." He quirks a brow when Dietrich attempts to explain the situation to Samantha, crossing his arm over his chest. "I was approached by no less than two separate people who then proceeded to plead with me in regards to vampiric politics. Miss Samantha here being one of them. Do you really think it wise to continue to discuss such things in front of her? After you were explicitly told not to? I do not need the favor of any person in particular, but you would do well to remain on Mr. Grant's good side. And no, Mr. Eberle. You will not teach them. You will not even look to them."
But then, his attention swivels over to Samantha. She is granted one long, hard, discerning look - his thoughts hidden behind the mask his expression has been worked into. "You don't know how vampires work, as a whole." He points out, low and easy. How there is hardly the sense of 'community' she is referring to, how individual they are. "And you do not know the situation as a whole." How Ivan has safeguarded the politicians - the only ones with the power to unite the fearsome undead - from striking against witches as a whole. "I wish there to be no death, no loss, and I assure you, safety is my number one priority. I would not allow myself to foolishly jeopardize it."
—
Dietrich sighs, rubbing his temples in irritation. An irritated vampire is a bad thing. "Some times I miss the good old days." He looks to Samantha and nods, "Thanks for trying Samantha, but I think it's abdundantly clear that Mr. Fontane thinks he's holding the upper hand." He rises from the booth and looks to Ivan, "I will do what I please, provided it does not violate the law, mortal or otherwise. Stay out of my business and I have no call to cause you trouble. And if your sisters want to be taught much like Samantha has accepted my offer, I will do so." He sighs, "No more threats Fontane. You started this whole mess by threatening me when you weren't in a good mood."
—
"I suspect there are a great many things I am unaware of, Ivan. Sometimes the safest place for Witches to be is outside the frame of notice," Samantha agrees with a mild frown, "I may be unschooled in the details of your affairs with the vampires, but I do think perhaps you have become a bit blinded by your own good intentions. I don't know a lot, Ivan, but there are countless Warding rituals and spells designed to keep our kind safe from vampires for a reason. Perhaps it would be a better investment of time to turn your concerns and disdain for their kind to more pressing issues such as the strain of wild animal attacks."
The rising of Dietrich is met with a half-rise of her own out of habit as her gaze slides over to regard him thoughtfully, "Whether he holds the upper hand or merely believes he does so is of little importance, Mr. Eberle. Sometimes, even after all these years, saying less is more. It takes two parties to maintain poor relations and you have the greatest misfortune of being caught between what you once were and now are. I will run interference when it comes to Mr. Fontane or his sisters if ever needed, but please — if you do seek to press relations, give things time to settle."
—
Ivan lets out a snort of distaste, the combination of both their exclamations particularly striking a chord in the lad. He does well to refrain from acting, however - apart from the furious way with which he clenches then unclenches his fingers, he doesn't move.
That is of course, until he realizes that there's no need for him to be here. Until he realizes that it's useless, and merely feeding his anger, clouding his judgement, goading him to 'take care of' a very certain vampire. And with this recognized, the man calmly gets to his feet. Then, he up and walks out of the bar - just like that, without bothering to bid farewell to either party. He is out of there.
