tampered | Log; Complete

"Silver bullets? A cross? A wooden stake? A vial of blood? Home-baked brownies? I don't know." One thing living with a vampire has taught him is to be prepared for any eventuality as far as visitors go. There's food ready and waiting just in case (and he can eat it anyway), but it's not there in any sort of pushy, you-ought-to-be-human-like-me sort of way (and for all he knows, Solomon is exactly that). It's just... there, and so is a fresh decanter of some very nice wine.

(He'll only serve fresh blood to one man, and that means their guests are out of luck.)

"Whatever it is, I'll protect you from it. House gifts can be funny things." That makes him laugh; he gives the room a final glance and puts the rest of the stuff away before making his way out to the music room. His sax is on its stand, as usual, and he leans in the archway watching Lestat play. It's one of his favorite things to do.

With bag in hand, Solomon Goldsmith shut the door of his apartment, and crossed to where his new neighbor(s) lived. Lestat was a known quantity, an elder vampire, who if he was to be believed, was a force to be reckoned with... but this Gren person.... male, female.... vampire, or human... Solomon was uncertain what to expect.

It was unsettling, not being able to have a network to prepare him for an important social engagement. Still, he knew when he left Diva, that he'd have to start from the ground up.

It was possible that if things went well, he could have a friend or two out of the situation. Something that was as unsettling as it was intriguing. Had it been so long since he had actual friends? People unrelated to him, by either blood or business... just someone in which there wasn't something mutual to gain other than the pleasantries of one another's company. It was a nice thought.

Of course, it hadn't escaped him that it was better to have a friend that could make a powerful ally as well... but it was too soon to think on that level.

Tonight was a simple neighborly visit. Unless Lestat had other things in mind...

Turning his attention back to the door, he knocks firmly but gently, to announces his presence. “This should be interesting...”

"You almost make it sound like I'm actually worried." Laughing lightly, he hears the door two down open and close. Then footsteps. Light, graceful. Apparently, Solomon is walking over. How delightful.

He stops playing and goes to the door. "Pardon me, angel. It is time for me to risk my life to see if he means to kill me." He laughs again as he listens some more. A knock and then 'This should be interesting...' Oh he couldn't agree more.

Opening the door with a smile, he nods to Solomon. "Why, you must be our new neighbor. Do come in. We shall be your gracious hosts this evening."

Being the actor he is, he takes a bow then steps aside.

Then he turns his grin on his lover. He is so very amused.

That smile is awfully smug; he loves it. Stepping forward from his spot in the archway, he ruffles Lestat's hair so very fondly before extending his hand to their neighbor. "Hi, Solomon. It's nice to meet you. Come on in, make yourself comfortable. I'm Gren."

For a long time he felt like this was Lestat's home, but now he's completely secure in the fact it's theirs. His footprint's all over the place now, from the pictures hanging in the bedroom that Solomon will never see to the sax on the stand to the sheet music scattered all over the place to the evidence of very human activity -- books lying around, a coat placed haphazardly over the back of a chair, things like that.

He's not perfect. Just a musician.

"Can I get you anything?" It's a broad and open-ended question, he knows, but he means it in the host's sense. Anything to eat or drink, or a chair for comfort. Things like that.

Smiling, Solomon bows to his hosts before entering their home. “Thank you for your hospitality.” He turns from the blond haired man in front of him, Lestat no doubt... to the taller dark haired gentleman, Gren. “A pleasure to meet you as well. Both of you.”

The room behind them was just as he had imagined it, ornate with lush furnishings easily recognized as having a strong French influence. It was perfect for what he had brought as an offering...

“Ah, I'm fine for the moment... Gren. But, before I forget, I brought a small gift (http://i119.photobucket.com/albums/o152/Hinaara/Gift-1.jpg), I do hope that you both like it.” With a polite dip of his head, he offers a moderately large silver gift bag.

Edited 2009-03-02 04:36 (UTC)

Instantly, his eyes go to the bag and he takes it as he closes the door. This looks interesting. Looking inside, he smiles. It's 19th century and French. They'll have to use it for other things. Perhaps their champagne nights. Though, maybe he can convince Gren to let him taste absinthe off his lips.

Finally, he takes it out to show Gren.

Off to the side, he hears a low rumble. One of the dogs must be growling. He pays little attention to who. But he does notice the way all three have moved closer. Bu to Gren and the other two to his side. While he notes that, he takes no notice of it.

"Look at the quality. Such beauty. I have seen things like this before. This gift is wonderful. It shall go nicely with things here."

"That's beautiful." He's not sure exactly what its purpose is -- there was nothing like that on Callisto -- but it really is lovely. "Thank you so much."

There isn't much he can tell about Solomon from his looks or actions; he assumes there's no cause for worry or Lestat wouldn't have invited him into their home. And he seems more than pleasant enough, and he's nice enough and nice-looking enough too.

"So, tell me. I know you and Lestat spoke, so forgive me if I'm making you repeat stuff that you two have already about. But where is it you came from, and how long have you been in the City? And while I'm at it, what do you think of it here so far?" He gestures to the archway leading into the living-room area; there's more room for all of them in there.

It's funny: it's usually just him and Lestat and the animals, and he hears the growling and raises an eyebrow at Bu. Pats his thigh; his dog comes over and stands at attention.

"I hope you don't mind dogs. If you do, I can ask them to stay in the other room. This one's Bu. And the big one's Horatio, and Apolline's there on the other side of the couch."

Relief flooded through his slender frame. The present had been a good choice after all... “I'm so glad you both like it. I am certain that...” he glances over to Lestat, “no matter what you choose to put in it, it will serve you well.”

It was apparent from how Gren spoke about the animals, that he lived here as well. With a cautious eye, Solomon notes the size and location of each of the beasts. They were beautiful, just as everything else in this apartment, including their masters. But it had surprised him that a vampire would keep any sorts of pets at all. Perhaps they were Gren's instead...

“They're beautiful dogs. It's quite fine if they stay... assuming they don't mind my presence enough to protest beyond a growl...” He gives a casual shrug of his shoulder, knowing that if they were to attack, he could easily remove himself from the situation.

“That's... an interesting question. I'm not used to there being 'other' places besides my own... world. But I'll do my best to answer you...” Following Gren's gesture, he walks into the main room, casually glancing around at décor. “I was in New York when I was taken. Rather inconvenient timing I have to admit.”

He pauses, remembering the young woman recovering in his bed. If only he'd had a few more hours with her...

Sighing he lets his body slide into the plush comfort of the couch. “Anyway, although I've only been here for 5 days, I am quite enjoying being here. It's...” Saya fills his mind. “perfect...”

That's right. He's not worried. If Solomon is dangerous then he can handle it.

(Gren gave him permission to read his mind throughout this earlier.)

He follows after them, stopping only long enough to play the fountain in the kitchen. Later, he can explain the purpose of it to Gren. The subtle hint in the words said by Solomon about it weren't lost on him. However, the blood would grow too cold too quickly. It will be used for alcohol or some other beverage. They'll find uses for it.

Sitting on the couch, he leaves room for Gren to join him. The dogs follow after. All three seem to be protecting their masters from the stranger in the house. It's a musing really.

"I have been to New York. Though, the visit was short. I seem to spend much of my time in New Orleans these days. Actually, I spend my days here in the City now. Something that would make sense since I will have been here a year on the 17th."

"It's almost your anniversary? I didn't know that." He slides into the space next to Lestat but turns to Solomon. "I've never been to Earth. Before I got here, I was living on Callisto, off Jupiter. I'd never been closer to the sun than Mars; that's where I grew up."

(Yeah, he's a Martian.)

Do people still think of Martians as being little green men?

Bu paces over and sits right on his feet; he reaches down and pets his puppy. This is curious. They're usually all much friendlier with guests but then again, most guests aren't strangers.

"So, just five days. It took me about that long once I got here to find a job. Have you had any luck with that?"

His mind was quickly processing every new piece of information, fascinated by the startling revelations. If he hadn't known better, he'd think everyone he'd met since he got here was insane.

But dinosaurs, vampires... (even though he hadn't seen any proof that Lestat was indeed one of the mythological walking dead.) There was no doubt that this place was far from ordinary...

"Mars? How... astounding... Lestat, was this normal for your 'world' too?" He laughed softly to himself. "'World'... if I'd heard myself talk like that just a week ago, I would have thought I'd lost my mind. How long does it take for all of this to sound normal, I wonder?"

With a shake of his head, he latched onto the one topic that was rational. "I've had fairly good luck with finding a couple positions. I'm going to be working for the hospital in their Emergency room, and then there's another position with the research lab in town. It all sounds very promising."

"And what is it that you do, Gren?"

Edited 2009-03-02 07:05 (UTC)

Depends upon the movie.

"To be on Mars? No. And it can take awhile for it to sound normal actually. It depends on how quickly you adapt." A doctor though. That could be a problem.

His eyes never stray from Solomon but his arm wraps around Gren's shoulders. He holds him close. The act is possessive and comforting all at once. At the same time, it also seems as if he isn't thinking about it at all.

I am here, ange. I know how you feel about the things he does but I am here.

Gren knows now that he's paying attention. Solomon doesn't have to. That isn't his business to share this evening. All he wishes to do is keep his lover comfortable tonight.

As long as he doesn't do them to me.

(He could just kiss Lestat, but not in front of strangers.)

"It's lucky that you found two places; that ought to keep you plenty busy. I guess you're a doctor of some sort?" Or he could be a research person. At any rate, it's like he told Lestat: as long as Solomon doesn't do anything to him, they're good.

He thinks.

"As far as what I do..." He nods back toward the music room. "I'm a musician. I play tenor sax at Lux. It's a jazz club on the other side of the Square." He can't help the way his eyes light up when he talks about it. Music has been the love of his life for so long, and it's only recently that the number one spot in his heart's been trumped by a sweetheart of a vampire. "I've been a musician pretty much my whole life."

He doesn't go so far as to say it's lucky he had his sax with him when he died. Now that he suspects Solomon's a doctor, he's even less likely to talk about anything like that. He's done being anybody's experiment, oddity, curiosity.

Bu, stop growling. Too bad he can't hear me.

"And yeah, Mars. I was born there."

“I've held many jobs over the years... but want to go back to medicine for now. Someone I care for will need my help from time to time, so I want to be able to take care of her.” Perhaps he was saying too much... Saya was on his mind and his heart still stung from the subtle rejection he'd suffered from earlier in the day.

He sighs, feeling a dull ache at the cozy scene in front of him, and turns to gaze at the musical instruments across the room. “A musician... I would be honored to hear you play sometime. That is, if you wouldn't mind.”

To distance himself from the apparent couple, he glided off the couch and let himself be drawn to idly skim the pictures on the wall. A girl on the beach in one scene playfully splashing in the waves, another showed Lestat pressed against a teenaged girl in a dance... Saya had looked that happy too.

His brows furrowed, and he forced his eyes to the next framed image. This one was Gren, on stage performing an unheard melody to a crowd hidden in darkness. And he mused silently to himself as his fingers lifted to trace the gilded frame. Still, he was company, so shouldn't let his mood darken because of his pain.

After a moment of composing himself once again, he turns back to his hosts. "Lovely pictures... I had a brother who was fond of keeping snapshots of all of us over the years. I wish I had been able to have some of them... especially now that I'm here."

Edited 2009-03-02 08:23 (UTC)

He's so very tempted to see what it would be like to read Solomon's mind. This mood shift began when he wrapped his arm around Gren. How interesting. Something to remember.

"I believe Abby took some of those on the wall. She's the one you see running on the beach. She's such a lively young thing. I can see why Gren adores her so. But she often surprises us with pictures. Sadly, I won't be able to show you most of them. They are hidden away. Only Katan gets to enjoy them at the moment."

He pauses.

"You should have some pictures taken to put on your own walls."

It's a thought he likes anyways.

He's uncomfortable with us. Together. Why?

While Solomon's busy not looking at them, he presses a quick kiss to Lestat's cheek and then stands, moves over next to their guest. "This is Lestat's friend Sarah. I never got to meet her. The City took her away before I could." He moves from the dancing picture to the one of Abby in the water. "Our friend Abby. She's a wonderful person to know."

Finally, he points to one of the pictures of him playing sax. "On Saturday nights, I have a solo gig at Lux. You should come over there sometime. That would be great."

If I make it in, that is. Someone has a habit of trying to keep him from work. "Did anyone tell you that showing up at pretty much any job in the City is dependent on the City curses? I guess it might be different at the emergency room, though. Are you a doctor?"

It's okay. I just want to know.

“... pictures of my own? Perhaps...” Gazing at the photos on the wall, he couldn't help but wonder if Saya would agree to such a thing. It was an idle hope, just like the many other hopes he had for the two of them. Still, to have a picture of her to carry with him... it was a sweet thought, one that he found he wanted desperately all of a sudden.

Solomon's eyes moved from picture to picture, politely nodding at the various comments from Gren, but the invitation caught him off guard. How long had it been since he'd been invited to anything that didn't involve some business deal or person seeking to better their position by catering to the boss. “I... I'll be sure to do that...”

“I am... although I confess that my skills in that area are limited. It's been a very long time since I devoted myself to medicine. You see, my family insisted I work in an office, so I put aside those aspirations. I didn't mind though, I want to be where I'm of the most use.”

With a casual shrug of his shoulders, he turns to meet Gren's eyes. “My priorities have changed drastically, even moreso now that I've found myself here. So for now, going back into medicine will allow me to take care of those I care about more effectively.”

Probably has something to do with his relationship with this Saya person.

He remains on the couch as he watched the two. He makes his decision then. The curiosity to know what is going through that mind is overwhelming. What could Solomon be thinking at this moment?

Saya... (He'll have to learn more about why Solomon is so attached to her.)

That's the main thing he gets. Most of what he sees is...fuzzy. As if in a cloud. Curious, he tilts his head to the side. And then he pushes harder. Why can't he get clear thoughts?

So he is a doctor. That realization and everything it might mean is interrupted by the thought Lestat sends him about Saya, but everyone has a right to their own story, right? Even him; he hasn't stood this close to a doctor or any kind of medical person since Pluto and he doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to remember about it. He doesn't want to go there now, and if Solomon tries anything, he'll kill him. That's all there is to it. No being poked or prodded or examined.

Not for any reason.

I'm going to be good about this. Watch. With a nod, he turns back to Solomon. "It's good to want to help take care of people. Good for you. I'm sure you're really something at it too." He's not sure at all; he doesn't even know the man. But it's the right thing to say.

"So." He takes a step back toward the couch, notices the expression on Lestat's face, says nothing about it. "You've got it down, about Saturday nights at Lux. The place is easy to find. It's got one of those awnings leaning out over the street. A striped one. Don't let the outside fool you; it's really nice inside." This is his home and he'd like to be comfortable; he sits again next to Lestat, rests a hand reflexively and automatically on his boyfriend's thigh. Bu seems to be pleased with the arrangement and jumps up on the couch next to him, protective.

What's going on?

Gren was being polite, going on about his skills as if he were the top of his profession. It was hardly necessary, he was just doing what he needed to in order to take care of Saya's needs. Her weariness was beginning to concern him, more so since he hadn't been able to get her to cooperate with his requests.

Why did she have to be so stubborn, when they all they had was each other in this strange new place? No one could understand her needs like he did. He was born to be with her, it was ordained... The most frustrating thing was that even without her support system, she still refused him.

But it was there, he'd seen it. The flush of her cheeks as they danced, and the occasional glimmer of desire that called him to her like a moth to the flame. She felt it, as surely as he did...

His eyes followed Gren as he retreated back to the sofa and sat next to Lestat. “I'll be sure to remember... Lux. It would be good to get out and see the local nightlife. I quite enjoy walking under the moon... there's something soothing about it.”

His eyes drifted to a painting on the wall. Paris, sun casting dappled shadows across the cobblestone street. Off into the distance was the Eiffel Tower...

Gazing at the scene in front of him, he remembered walking near the water along the streets of Paris, a beautiful full moon shining brightly overhead as he deliberated his brother's intent to kill their intended... his intended. Amshel gave up all of his rights with that statement....

Back stiffening slightly, he turned to stare back into the attentive eyes of his host. Lestat...

Edited 2009-03-03 07:44 (UTC)

I'm reading his mind. It's interesting.

That's all he has time for as he dives in again. There's that Saya girl again. Solomon thinks of her a lot apparently. He clearly must have feelings for her. Or it's this 'destiny' thing.

And what is this? Dancing? But who? The face seems familiar...

Ah yes. Here is something he knows. Paris. That beautiful, beautiful city. He can't help loving those streets he sees.

...A brother? And...a wave of displeasure.

Then Solomon's back stiffens and he turns to meet his gaze and...

It's gone. Everything. Image, sound...everything. He can't help the startled look that appears on his face. So rarely can anyone just shut him out like this.

"Solomon." He has to stop this thing going on, this dance he's not privy to between the two of them. Something's happening and he doesn't know exactly what it is, but he takes Lestat's hand in his and gives it a squeeze. "Come on over and join us here again. We'll behave."

(Are you okay? Tell me you're okay.)

His hand doesn't leave Lestat's, but he turns his attention back to Solomon. He'll talk about something -- anything -- to keep the conversation going, at least until he hears that Lestat's okay, that nothing bad happened to him just now.

"I have a question about the gift you brought. It's really beautiful, but I'm not sure exactly what it's intended to be used for. Can you tell me?"

(Baby, if he hurt you I'm going to kill him. Tell me you're all right.)

His name was called, but he couldn't quite bring himself to break his gaze at his host, Monsieur Vampire..

What was it? That vague sense of something not quite right...

It was nothing. Except... if it was truly nothing, would Lestat have been looking at him in such a strange way?

He frowned for a fraction of a second. His brow furrowing ever so slightly as he tried to understand. Had something happened?

Again Gren's voice interrupted, pulling at his attention like a child tugging on the skirts of his mother. And so he allowed his head to turn towards the source of the question, reluctantly breaking eye contact after a second more...

"What was that? Oh, yes. The Fountain set." He glanced back towards Lestat for just a moment, not fully wanting to let whatever it was go.

"I stumbled across that in a small antique shop as I was exploring the City. And knowing Lestat came from France, it seemed the perfect gift. Although the year is undoubtably off..."

Smiling politely, he made a casual gesture with his hand. "You see, similar devices were used in the 19th century, primarily for Absinthe. Are you familiar with the drink? A concoction mixed with wormwood and served over sugar cubes. Banned for it's hallucinogenic properties... but anyway. This particular fountain would work with any beverage, both warm or cold. I believe if you look at it's base, you will notice heating coils."

His hand lifted to run his fingers through his hair. An subconscious action. "I confess that I didn't quite know what to expect about you... Lestat only in passing mentioned your name. So I decided a less conventional gift was necessary to assure that it would serve you as well."

Edited 2009-03-03 18:43 (UTC)

How did Solomon do that? The young man doesn't even seem to be aware that he was even in his mind. Gren in thinking in his direction. Worry the overwhelming emotion. Slowly, his lips curl back into a smile.

I am alright. I got shut out of his mind suddenly when he looked at me. It was startling. Don't worry, I'm not harmed. No need to go find the weapons.

"I remember seeing similar devices before. They were always so interesting. I bought one once. Though, I never made use of it. Mostly, I just liked to look at it. Figure out how it worked." He's acting as if nothing happened. If he gets questioned about it later then he'll handle it then. But things are fine at the moment.

Still, how did Solomon accomplish that? Had he been of aware of the intrusion after all?

There are so many questions he has now. He's not sure where they begin and where they end. For now, he gives Gren's a gentle reassuring squeeze. He's fine. Really.

Good. Lestat doesn't even miss a beat on the outside; that's reassuring. Letting go of his hand, he stands, excuses himself for a minute. One of them ought to play host and since Lestat can't drink the wine he's not likely to think of serving it.

The decanter goes to the middle of the table and he knows his partner can smell the wine plenty well; it's a good vintage because he only picks the good stuff nowadays. Two glasses join the decanter on the table. As if he never missed a beat he picks up just where the conversation left off. "That's pretty fascinating. I've never had absinthe but I'm sure we'll use the fountain well. Thank you again: it was really sweet of you to bring something." If nothing else, the set's lovely to look at.

"If you'd like a glass of something a little less lethal, please help yourself. I never make assumptions in this City."

Is he human? He looks it.

Now he turns to Lestat. "Doesn't absinthe play a part in the history of New Orleans?" He remembers seeing a sign about it in one of the bar windows when they traveled through one of his partner's memories. "Because if it's that important to the city's history, then I'm tempted to find out more about it."

Hallucinogenic? Remind me to never go near it.

In some ways, this is a really weird visit but in others, it's not all that strange. He's just having a hard time figuring Solomon out. The man seems perfectly nice, but there's something either off or different about him and it's hard to define just what that is.

Maybe he relies on his own intuition too much.

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