Golden Theater: Atrium
A large, elegant atrium opens the entrance area of the Golden Theater. The atrium is designed to be large enough to accommodate those choosing to partake in the finer arts that the Theater offers. The color scheme is primarily monochromatic, with black marble floors and matching support pillars. The rest of the decor is simple, but no less elegant. Busts in black marble look out from small, golden alcoves. Gold rose-vines have been engraved upon the pillars, as though entwining them.
Toward the opposite end of the entrance, there is a series of seven steps which lead up to a pair of doors. The doors lead into the theater proper, and when they are opened they reveal that the floor beyond is covered with lush black and gold carpeting.
The theatre is fairly bustling tonight, something artsy, very neo-Wagner, and the first act has just ended. With the intermission a bit longer than for most shows, likely to allow for the massive set changes, the crowd has begun to filter out into the main lobby, to sample the opening night offerings, from drinks and coffee to finger-foods and tidbits to keep the masses appeased.
Paige comes out along with the rest of the crowd, hands caught up in the fabric of her dress, the cut longer and more elegant than she would normally wear, her fingertips keeping the fabric from accidentally brushing the floor and sending her on a nosedive onto the floor. That would not be appropriate at all, even if it would be rather the more likely end result, given that elegance is simply not Paige's forte.
—-
When meeting with business associates from out of town Oliver's always very careful to pick his venues, as such he's attending a show he might not under normal circumstances, it's the perfect way to discuss business, but now that's done and the group of criminals have split up for the intermission. Oliver for his part wanders through the crowd his mental shields down just enough that he can peek in on the thoughts of those passing, he has no shame and little reason not to wonder what people are thinking, he makes his way through the crowd with an air of confidence, the slightest hint of a relaxed smile curving his lips.
—-
Paige falls into line with the small group making their way towards the coffee station, hands now free of the fabric of her dress, given that she's walking more slowly, and less likely to have an accident. She smiles politely when she needs to, says a few random words here and there as she moves, the polite expression plastered on her face as she follows the queue. «I swear if you bump into me one more time, Mr. Smelly, I'm going to get that coffee and pour it right down your front.» Charming smile, charming smile. One step closer to the urn.
—-
With that same grin Oliver joins the queue just behind Paige, he picks up the thought, and on a whim looks at the man responsible for barging Paige and offers a polite, yet firm smile to him. "Excuse me, you keep barging people, myself included. It's not a small room, it's not /that/ crowded, so I'm going to ask you to be a little more careful." Yes there's a hint of a hard edge to his otherwise polite tone.
—-
Paige pauses, looking back as a new man comes up behind her. And then to the rather greasy looking man that kept purposefully walking into her, giving no indication whatsoever that she has no idea who Oliver is. Rather, she steps towards him, hoping the other man will get the, well, normally the wrong idea, but in this case the right one and move on. Which he seems to do, slinking back into the crowd. And once he does, Paige steps back again, "Thank you so much for that. I was getting ready to ask him if he wanted me to just lift my skirt and have done." Step forward, one more closer to the refreshments.
—-
Oliver shrugs offering a grin to Paige. "Don't mention it. I hate people like that. How they can think it's acceptable to treat people like that is beyond me." It's ironic that he genuinely means that, considering the things he'll do to people without a second thought. "I'm sorry I'm ranting and I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Oliver Marcos. I'm glad I could help." He continues with the queue towards the refreshments as well, a quick glance given to the man that had been causing trouble, never be sure that things won't come back to bite you after all.
—-
"I've seen worse, believe me." «And had to deal with it too.» "Oh, it's quite alright." Paige moves to offer a hand, "Paige Logan. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Marcos. You out here to get away from the show too? «God, what a travesty.» "Oh, here we are." Paige turns away, once her hand is free, moving to the coffee, "Can I get you a cup? Or some tea instead?" She does have some small amount of manners, it seems.
—-
Nodding Oliver give the impression of being all well-mannered charm and good humour as he listens to Paige. "To be blunt I'm not surprised, I've seen my share and I'm not exactly their usual target of choice, I don't know how young women deal with it myself." He bows his head a little as Paige introduces herself. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He nods with a sigh. "I was convinced to come by an associate of mine, I can't say I'm thinking much of it." He shrugs. "What's more my associate had to leave on business." He smiles. "Well since you're offering I'll have a coffee please, as long as you agree to allow me to buy the second round?"
—-
"Well, there's really not much we can do about it, in most cases. You get arrested for assault, and most of us don't have the 150 grand it would cost to turn ourselves into a man, so. You put up with it because you have to." Paige looks over at the request, "Oh, they're taking donations. How about if I put 50 cents in, and the next round you take it out again, so that we don't have to, hopefully, live through another show like this again?" She makes easy work of the coffee, cream and sugar for her, and after a, "Cream or sugar?" makes your as well, handing it over first, before she takes up hers. "Sounds like an excuse to me. Probably just wanted to get out of this theatre as soon as possible."
—-
Oliver smiles at the mention of the donations tin. "Sounds like a plan." He then seems to consider the question. "I'll have cream and sugar please." He takes a look around. "I'd agree, if my friend didn't work with me, we drew lots on who got to go." He flashes a wide grin. "Of course, now that he's gone I suppose there's nothing forcing me to go back for the second half of the show." He looks at Paige. "Mind if I ask what's keeping you from making the dash for freedom?" He takes the offered coffee. "Thank you."
—-
"You're welcome. Sorry you got the short straw." With both cups of coffee in hand, as it were, Paige moves down the line, and continues on towards the semi-buffet line, "Oh, a friend of mine is working on the set crew, and she got me a ticket, so I have to stick around until the end when I tell her how wonderful I thought it was, and how I really hope they put on another production." «Just before I crawl in a hole and die.» Paige retrieves a plate for you, and one for herself, before she starts looking over the offerings, "At least the food doesn't look as though it will kill us."
—-
There's a slow nod as Oliver looks at the food. "True, although a case of food poisoning would be just what you could do with isn't it?" He flashes a grin to Paige, his expression amused. "I don't know if I'd want to actually die to avoid the second half of the play, but it might be close." He shrugs becoming obviously thoughtful as he gathers some of the food. "It's a shame I don't get to catch shows as much as I'd like, I'd like to think the ones I do catch would be watchable at least."
—-
Paige grazes as well, as she moves, picking up this tidbit and that, piling them up on her plate as she moves, though it's slow going with the coffee. «Probably should have gotten that last.» "There's no way she'd believe that. I haven't met a food yet that I haven't, well, if not liked, at least been able to keep down." As she finally get to the end of the line and steps out, she continues, "Oh, I don't know. Personally I'd much rather watch a movie at home or a show. I can pause it when I like, come back later, it's not a huge chunk of your time that gets eaten up that you can't get back."
—-
Oliver slowly picks his way through the food with a nod. "Yeah, I eat most anything myself, but food poisoning worked for my brother a few times, the trick was to find someone willing to play along." He sighs. "I like the theatre; I find a good show has an atmosphere that you can't get at home watching a movie. And I'm generally rude enough to just walk out if I'm not impressed." He shrugs looking a little sheepish. "If they're not able to keep me interested then why should I waste my time pretending I care?" He sighs. "Maybe that's why I don't have any friends in show business."
—-
"Well, you should be in luck. The Golden puts on quite a few shows through the year. But I suppose I'm just not the type. I mean, you can put me in the dress, but…it's just not the same thing." Paige, having escaped the bustle of the buffet line, takes a slow look around, before she finds a free bench to sit, which is handy, as some people are already starting to filter back in, "Even people in show business don't have friends in show business, so you're not missing out on much."
—-
Taking a seat next to Paige Oliver nods with a thoughtful grin. "You're in show business? I thought I recognized you, but I honestly couldn't say where from." He sounds thoughtful and sincere. "I'm sorry I really can't place you." He takes another few mouthfuls of his food. "Still I can't say that I'm too disappointed about getting the short straw, I now have the evening to myself, and if I'm being honest, it's always good to find someone to have a conversation with."
—-
"You must really not have a thing to do in the middle of the night, if you've seen the show I'm on." Paige sets aside her coffee, settling the plate she brought back with her into one hand, and using the other to sample this and that, "It's called Paranormal Investigations." She doesn't even bother trying to explain, I mean, the name rather speaks for itself, "Yes, it is. It seems to be harder than you would think."
—-
Shrugging Oliver laughs. "I've been known to have my restless nights, I've caught the show, although if I'm being honest, I'm not generally too alert when they're showing." He grins a little sheepishly sipping his coffee. "I actually only really watch movies and the late night TV that's on when I can't sleep." He grins. "As for conversations, they're easy to get, it's just finding an interesting conversation that's a problem."
—-
"Well, you're not missing much, to tell you the truth, but I have high hopes for the show getting better once we can get a better time-slot and more funding. There's only so many places you can go when you're footing most of the bill yourself." Paige makes a face, as she bites into one of the puffed pastries, quickly picking up a napkin and politely, as she can, spitting it out, before she reaches over to toss it and the half eaten pastry into the nearest receptacle, "Salted salmon and dill…not a good combination." As she settles back, "Well, I will have to hope that you find mine interesting enough." «Has to be better than going back inside.»
—-
Oliver grins. "I know what you mean. I'm a trader, I tried to work alone for a while, but what with the expenses of manpower and bringing in good, it's not practical to work without backing, even if you already have a buyer lined up most suppliers want to know you'll be able to make a regular commitment." He shrugs. "I can see where travel and manpower would be a big problem for producing a show on the road, that's without the equipment costs." He nods. "I'm enjoying talking to you, you seem to enjoy intelligent conversation, there's too little of that when you're talking to people you've just met."
—-
"I wouldn't have pictured you as a trader. You don't really have the look for it." And then she looks down at herself, "Although I don't really look the part tonight either." «I haven't been stared at like a freak of nature all night.» "It's the equipment, mostly, that kills us. I mean, a bed is a bed, and there are nights we sleep in the van, so we're used to that. But the cost of getting everything we need and keeping it running is huge." Paige retrieves her plate, seeming to enjoy eating, showing no shame in the fact. And while she's certainly not fat, by any means, she's certainly not a skinny-mini either. "Are you from Dallas then, Mr. Marcos?"
—-
Nodding Oliver grins. "I'll admit I'm a man who likes money, trading's a good way to make money. I have a talent for working out what people want to sell, and who wants to buy." He shrugs. "It's really just a way to make money." He looks at Paige for a moment thoughtfully. "I hope you get picked up, I find the idea of the show interesting, I'm always eager to see people working to prove the existence of the unknown, too many people refuse to accept it." He seems perfectly sincere no matter the skill of the person reading him, but then that's been the case all evening. "No, I'm originally from Austin, and please call me Oliver."
—-
"Paige pauses, just before she was to pop another, no-salmon, pastry into her mouth, "I just like enough to be comfortable. To pay my bills, take care of my family. I've never been able to just spend money wantonly. even this dress was a gift." «Stephen does have wonderful taste. Thank god he was shopping and not me.» She finishes the pastry, before she continues, "Well, just a few years ago, people believed that vampires weren't real. There is so much in the world that we just don't know about. I think that it's important for people to know what's out there. I know many of our viewers like the fright factor, but it's just as much about letting people know that there are dangerous things out there that should be avoided. At least that's why I'm doing the show." paige doesn't offer a hand again, at the sort of second introduction, but she does offer another of her own, "And you can call me Paige. I'm from Nome."
—-
Nodding Oliver sighs. "Well I've found money's independence, I got into my business because I was good at it, eventually I decided I was tired of being trodden on by the people above me, so I wanted to break out alone, which means money." He sighs. "Of course once you've got the business it's the proverbial shark if it stops swimming it dies, if it keeps swimming it grows and gets harder to keep moving, but I've finally hit the point where I'm free to do what I want, as long as I keep the money coming in." He laughs. "I guess I'm just greedy, but I like my excuses." He finishes his meal. "I'm afraid I should be going, sorry I've got to leave you to the show, I've had a very good time talking to you." He removes a card and a pen from his pocket jotting down his number. "I'm not usually this forward, but I'd like to try it again some time. Like I said, good conversations are rare."
—-
"Well, perhaps my thoughts would be different if I were in your shoes. But I've never had much, so I appreciate and stretch what I have. But there's no shame in admitting that you like the things that you like. You won't get any judgment for me. People say money is the root of all evil, but I think money is just a tool. What you do or don't do with it is what makes it evil." As Oliver gets ready to leave, Paige sets aside her plate, and accepts the card, "it's not too forward. A good conversation is hard to find." As for the show, "Oh, don't worry, I'll just stay out here until the last ten minutes, then sneak in again. I do hope you have a good evening, Oliver. And thank you for the company."
