Absinthe
Art Nouveau decor throughout the main lounge pays homage to an era when architecture and interior design were the perfect marriage of form, function and art. The walls are purples and pinks that blend into more subtle hues with the constant green lighting. Small tables with four tall chairs can be found scattered about the room. Large purple couches can be found nestled between the table sets, and in front of a smaller stage used for poetry readings.
The bar itself is long, taking up the entirety of a wall. Tall chairs are scattered on the patron side, and behind the bar is a beautiful greenish glow. The glow comes from the shelving where the majority of the alcohol is stored. The nearby glass racks reflect the glow splendidly as well.
It's getting close to midnight, the waxing crescent moon's high in the sky, and giving off some light in the clear sky, this is of little importance to the patrons of Absinthe, although it may lead to more people heading out of an evening, it's also just good to know that you'll be heading out of a bar into a nice night; it improves peoples mood. It's a themed poetry night, Byron readings to be exact, which means the club needs all the reason for cheer it can get. Of course most people aren't interested in the poetry, they're just having a drink, Michael falls in a third group, he sits at the bar watching the stage with just the faintest hint of amusement.
—-
It's late, just a few minutes closer to midnight than one might expect, as Paige steps into the bar. She's actually dressed rather nicely, all things considered. Well, okay, not really. She's in a pair of jeans and a wrap-shirt, but at least they -look- rather smart. And thankfully, the area around the stage is rather empty, because, well, let's face it, it is Byron. So trying to get to a free spot without causing too much of a stir isn't that awkward. But as she passes one table, she pauses, her voice soft, "Michael?" Seems she has a good memory for faces.
—-
It's obvious that Michael's barely touched the blood in his bottle, yet the amusement with which he watches the fairly morbid poems hints that he's not here for the poetry either. He turns his attention to Paige and offers a nods. "Paige, it's good to see you again; here for the show?" He takes a sip of the Trublood in his hand and motions to the stage. "I've got to say it's well read. Although the tone's a little off, but that's always gonna happen with accents."
—-
"Just wanted somewhere quiet to get away and relax for a while. We're going to be picking back up filming in a few, and that means getting all the work together now, making plans, booking housing arrangements," Paige offers, before she indicates one of the empty chairs, "Would you mind if I joined you? I hate sitting alone." She does look back to the stage, "The accent really does make it difficult to get the feel for it. I keep expecting him to whip out a cowboy hat and start twirling it around."
—-
Michael shakes his head motioning to a seat. "Not at all; I'd welcome the company." He thinks for a moment, the amusement disappears leaving his expression blank. "The ghost hunting program right?" He pauses a moment, his words come carefully. "I've got to ask, do you really believe? Or do you think it's all some kind of set up?"
—-
Paige settles into a chair, pulling it around so that she can also see the stage, while continuing her conversation with the man who's invited her to sit at his table. She does order a beer, whatever's on tap and cheap, as the waitress makes a quick pass, before she looks back at the vampire, "Do you want an honest answer, or do you want me to tote the party line?" Her tone is as serious as his expression.
—-
Michael looks at Paige. "I'd say it's your choice, but I think that's an answer. I wouldn't mind if you want to elaborate." He shrugs a shoulder with a faint smile. "Personally I've never seen a ghost. I might sound arrogant, but I don't find it easy to believe in things I haven't seen, I've been around long enough that I can't think of many things I've heard of that I haven't seen."
—-
"And most people in this world did not believe in vampires, until your kind chose to make yourself known. And how long have vampires existed on this earth without every being discovered by humans?" Paige pays for her beer, once it arrives, taking a sip before she continues, "I believe, that there are many more things in this world than any of us have seen, or experienced. But I also believe, that there are some things in this world that the average person is not ready to accept and should not get themselves involved in. People want the excitement of the supernatural, of the paranormal. But it's the fantasy they're interested in. How many humans have approached you, not seeing you for what you really are, but instead seeing you as some living embodiment of some romance novel they once read? Fantasies are all well and good, but most people need to be protected from the reality of the world in which they live."
—-
There's a brief pause before Michael laughs, he looks at Paige for several moments, his expression once again amused. "You're right, I can't deny that; there are a lot of things humans don't know, and aren't ready to accept, but there's one big difference… you did know of us. Oh true you never believed in us, but you'd known about us, there'd been sightings; I mean who hasn't heard of Dracula." He sips his drink again. "I've never known anyone but humans to have seen ghosts, and all the cases I've encountered could be explained away."
—-
"Dracula was the figment of some opium-addled man's mind. He's also the one who wrote The Lair of the White Worm, for goodness sakes. A romance novel to get into the petticoats of the women of his time. There is a reason people say that sex and violence go together." Paige pushes her beer aside, as she considers the vampire just a short distance away from her, "But I have seen a real ghost. Once or twice, but they are extremely rare. And most of them have nothing at all to do with haunting homes and knocking over tableware."
—-
Michael nods. "True, I never liked Stoker myself, but the fact that he makes such an accurate representation of vampires should hint that he had at least some information to work on, although he made his share of mistakes as well." He pauses watching Paige. "Well that at least answers my questions, you do believe, personally I'll keep a dose of doubt, not that I don't enjoy your show." He watches the stage for a moment as 'And thou art Dead, as young and fair' he seems to pause as it begins; a second later however he's turned his attention back to Paige. "As for people mistaking me for something out of a romance novel… well most of that type don't tend to guess me for a vampire; I dress wrong, and I don't exactly look the part."
—-
Paige shrugs, reclaiming her beer, "I believe in the things that I have seen. In the things that my family and those close to me have seen, in the things that I know to be true. I believe in the things that I can create. If that happens to be outside of the purview of someone such as yourself, there's really nothing that I can do about that." As for the comment on her show, "Television is what it is. A form of entertainment, a cheap thrill to keep the masses entertained. "Clearly you haven't been reading the latest romance novels. Vampires don't look like Dracula anymore."
—-
Michael arches an eyebrow at the comment from Paige. "Now I'm not saying I don't believe in things beyond vampires and run of the mill humans, I just don't believe in ghosts." He runs a hand through his hair his laugh quiet as he studies Paige. "True, but they don't tend to look much like me either; you really think I fit the mold? If anything I passed more for Dracula back in the day than I do for the modern vampire image."
—-
"And I hope that you never have reason to believe." And for the time being, Paige is content to set the conversation aside, at least that aspect of it, "I think that you look exactly like what you are. perhaps you're a bit older than most of the vampires that seem to be making the rounds of the news and whatnot, but that's no different than what I do. Slight of hand and clever marketing. We live in an age of beauty over substance. Even when it comes to something as real as vampires, people want the fantasy, not the reality."
—-
Michael looks at Paige, his expression as blank as ever. "I meant because of my movements, I don't know how many vampire you've met, but most… they don't exactly do much in the way of moving, not unless they've got reason." He laughs a smile forming. "You think it's an age? Please people have always been obsessed with beauty; see the truth is people are in most ways the same as when I was born; sure you've got more time to do what you like, and you look at the world from a different angle, but ultimately the people are the same."
—-
"Most of the vampires that your average person would encounter, whether it is in a club while trying to pick up their next meal, or in ads for the AVL, are mainstreamers. They act human because they want people to believe that some part of them is human, it helps to make the transition that much easier, or the deception, depending on which angle you want to use for your lens." Once again, a sip of beer, before she sets it aside, "For a being that claims to have seen so much of humanity, you really do have a very limited view of the world in which you live, if that word can even be applied to you, all things considered."
—-
Shrugging Michael looks at Paige. "Perhaps, or perhaps humanity isn't as complex as people like to think." He finishes his drink taking another glance at the stage. "/cultures/ change, nations and laws might even change, technology advances, but the people remain the same; we're all our natures, the hard part is working out what those natures are." He shrugs his shoulder again. "As for my being alive… who gets to say what defines life?"
—-
"Perhaps vampires aren't either." Another sip of her beer, though she does take a moment to look back towards the stage, where at least the performer she came in on, seems to be on his way out to make room for the next, "Very few people allow their natures to dictate there lives." A shake of her head follows, at the last, "I did not say 'alive', I said 'live'. Those words are similar, they are not the same. Certainly not in the sense in which I was using it."
—-
Michael smiles. "Ah we're not complex at all, vampires are less complex than humans in many ways. We've got our natures as well, you're right; we don't let our natures dictate our lives, but they do shape us, they make us what they are. I'm not saying the world hasn't changed, I'm not saying that people don't have differences from the past, but it's superficial. It's the reason vampires survive, if we had to become whole new people to keep up with the times, we'd never live more than a couple of centuries, I mean changing the clothes, the speech patterns and the getting used to the technology is hard enough." He seems to become amused. "So you think there's a distinction between being alive and living? Or do you simply think I'm not part of this world?"
—-
"No one and nothing is meant to last forever. Everything has its time. Everything dies." And certainly, as a human, with only a handful of years, well, Paige continues, "An ant is alive, a fern is alive, a squirrel is alive. I am alive, you are as well, after the fashion of your species. But there is a distinct difference between being alive, in whatever biological, genetic or mystical sense you want to define it, and living, being a part of this world. And you, you seem very intent on being the man looking in from the outside, the tender, looking on on the anthill under glass." She lifts a hand, "Now, perhaps that's simply your way, the face you show to the world, we all have them, but it certainly makes your life seem like a very clinical, lonely existence."
—-
Nodding Michael chuckles. "Oh, I never think in terms of forever, I don't think that's practical, but you have to understand that time works differently for my kind, I generally think in centuries, but at times an hour can seem like a lifetime." He shrugs a shoulder his expression thoughtful. "As for my place in the world… it is probably best to keep things clinical, it's also been pretty much the only option until recently, it's hard to get involved without drawing at least a little attention; I've spent a very long time avoiding that."
—-
"Certainly it does. I have the freedom to enjoy twenty-four hours out of my day, and so I have the freedom to enjoy things at a more leisurely pace. You have barely twelve, when you have twelve at all. You have much less freedom than I do, in that regard." She moves to sip her beer, but finding it warm, pushes it aside, "And now times have changed. There is no longer as much of a need to avoid being involved." She lifts a hand to signal the waitress, "Would you like a new bottle, I imagine that's gotten a bit cold."
—-
Shaking his head Michael laughs. "No thank you, I've had more than enough already." He nods. "That's true, although I'm pretty sure it evens out in the long run. I don't envy you the extra hours in your day." He shrugs his expression becoming blank again as he speaks. "Getting involved still holds problems; you've got to pick your battles, after all how many times do you think someone can watch something they've grown attached to die. I can't afford to think in anything less than centuries, that's a good way to drive yourself crazy, if it doesn't get you dead."
—-
Paige does replace her beer, when the waitress comes back around, again paying the tab, rather than running up one, "I would imagine that was not always the way. Particularly in the first years when you were first turned. To suddenly have to measure every moment, to fit into half the time what you would have done in twice as much?" As she considers the second question, she shakes her head, "As many times as was necessary, I think. For me, time is fleeting, because I will not live more than a handful of decades, if that. For you, time is fleeting in its own way, because the things and the people around you will only live for a handful of decades. But that, to me, only emphasizes the need to hold onto and explore and savour the time that you do have, while you have it. Otherwise, you run the risk of losing a chance that might never come again."
—-
"I never much cared how long I had when I was first turned; I hadn't done anything for a long time before I was turned." Michael studies Paige. "Maybe, but I've been happy enough living my life as I do, I've seen the beauty in the world, I've been there to see how the world has handled great and terrible events; I remember things that perhaps no one else can, and for that alone I'm glad of my existence." He looks at Paige. "I don't deny that I /do/ come to care for things and people from time to time, but too often and it weighs you down, there will always be missed opportunities, the trick is to learn the cost."
—-
"Then perhaps becoming something both less than and more than human was a good thing, in your case. Though I would imagine, like all living things, at least those with sentience, that not all vampires are as well adjusted to their existence as you are." Another sip of her beer, before she continues, looking across at the man at her table, "I am very glad that I will never have to be in the position that you are in now." Finally, she looks back to the stage, "Will you be reading tonight?"
—-
Looking at Paige for a moment Michael seems to consider that. "Possibly, although I'd think that should be somewhat down to good selection." He chuckles again. "And if I'm being honest, I'm glad for my shot to see what the future holds." He once again turns his attention to the stage. "No, I didn't come here for the poetry, although it was an amusing surprise, I always found Byron a little darker than I like."
—-
"And all vampires choose wisely, when they choose to make more of their kind?" Her hands capture her bottle, though, rather than drinking, she starts to peel away at the label, allowing the paper to flutter down to the table, "May I ask why you did come, then? If it wasn't for the poetry? It certainly wasn't for the drink selection."
—-
"The same reason many people come to these places, I wanted to be around people; I enjoy spending time amongst humans." He places a hand down next to his bottle. "I think the social aspects what brings most people to bars." He grins. "Most choose for their reasons, no one I've met would ever choose a madman, or someone likely to be disruptive to society. It wouldn't help anyone." He shrugs. "And you? What brings you to a bar when you could likely buy the same drink and drink it at home for less?"
—-
"Clearly, you've never seen my house, or you wouldn't have to ask that question." Paige finishes with the label, fingers rubbing at the last of the paper on the bottle, "I've spent the entire day pulling old drywall and carrying it out to the dumpster I rented in front of the house. After a day of that, it was this or the Grisly, and that's not really my sort of place."
—-
Rising from his seat Michael smiles. "Well I know about preparing a home to live in, I've been to the point where I didn't want to live in it after I was done." He runs his hand through his hair. "But you'll have to excuse me, I should probably be getting some matters dealt with. It's been an interesting talk, maybe I'll see you around some time."
—-
Paige rises as well, out of politeness, though it seems slightly out of keeping with her gender, "Of course, Michael. It was nice to have seen you again. And if you're very unlucky, I might be asking you for advice on the house when I see you again." But there is humour in that, "A good evening, Michael. Be well."
