The Art Showing (closed)

[Doc]

OOC Note: Backdated to February 17th

Doc: Doc arrived at the prearranged location in Wickbridge, several minutes before the appointed time. He changed from his typical office attire to a more, upscale suit for the event. He would be meeting Elizabeth, and then continuing on with her, to view the travel art show that had a scheduled stop in Harper Rock. It was a traveling collection from the Lehmann Maupin Exhibitor. Art from various rising artists in the field. Glancing at his watch, he knew had a few minutes before she would arrive, he let his mind drift to think about the evening before him.

When Elizabeth had suggested the art exhibit for their weekly meeting, he was all for it. He enjoyed seeing art while being silently envious of the skill of the artist. In his opinion, art was an overlooked profession. Well perhaps not overlooked, but belittled. Too many people wanted to proclaim themselves an artist. Actors had even taken to calling themselves artists. They are ******* actors. There is no art to it. Work? Yes. There was work to being an actor, but art? No. Not the way he defined art.

To Doc, art was something that could be gazed upon, enjoyed for its visual allure, as well as giving the viewer perhaps an insight into things that they would not have normally had. Actors? No. Actors depended too much on other people to make them look good. The lighting guy, the props guy, the director. There were far too many people involved in acting, for a single actor to be proclaimed an artist.

(wearing: http://imageshack.com/a/img910/4735/0lqW1v.png )

Elizabeth: Dress appropriately. Those two words stirred up quite the confusion in the Telepath woman. Was there a different way in which she was supposed to dress? Some different way to the normal was in which Elizabeth typically dressed? Uncertain, the woman glanced at what she was wearing and then decided perhaps it was not appropriate for the event. Perhaps something a little more sophisticated was in order.

So, the woman unzipped the black and gold colored dress she had been wearing, stepped out of it and decided for a more dramatic burgundy coloured dress. Paired with black heels that blessed the woman with a couple extra inches, Elizabeth grabbed a sheer black shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders and arms, before the woman left her Beta tower apartment. The gallery was only a handful of blocks, if that from the apartments, which was why Elizabeth chose this apartment and not one of her others.

When Elizabeth arrived in front of the gallery, her eyes took in the width and size of the building. Then her blue hues fell on the advertisement section; highlighting a show the woman had never heard of. Nor the artists within the exhibit that was traveling around the world. The woman moved closer to the stairs, but stopped when her eyes landed on the man of the evening. With a smile transfixed upon her features, Elizabeth made her way over to Doc and dipped her head politely to the male. “Good evening, Doc. You look...very appropriate.” Elizabeth said, her irises flicking him over from head to toe.

(Wearing: https://www.thesun.co.uk/wp-content/upl ... &strip=all )

Doc: Doc smiled his rather typical crooked closed lipped smile at Elizabeth upon her arrival. At her comment, he gathered that his attempt at satire was lost in translation. No matter, most people tended to overlook, ignore, or not get his attempts at humor. “You on the other hand, look far more that merely appropriate. You look down right stunning.” She did. She wearing a dangerous type of dress at that. One quick flick of the wrist and the tie at the back of her neck would be gone, a simple heel placed on the hem of the dress, had her unclothed in seconds. His grin grew as he envisioned it in his mind’s eye.

Politely offering Elizabeth his arm, he informed her, “I have already taken the liberty of procuring our admission. I hope you do not mind.” He gestured toward the entrance, “We have VIP access, should we desire to meet with the exhibit curator. Not that we have to. But the offer is there for us, should we be overcome with emotion at the beauty of the exhibit.” His tone was even, though he was being sarcastic. As much as he appreciated art, he had never become overcome with emotion at seeing any.

Elizabeth: The hand furthest from Doc ran down the side of the sleek material of her dress as Doc complimented her. “You are far too kind.” The statement came as Elizabeth looped an arm through the offered one while he spoke. The hint of sarcasm was not lost, the woman giving him a sidelong look as she tried to envision Doc being overcome with emotion-so much he had to meet the artist and pay them a multitude of compliments. “I do not mind, no.” Her eyes moved away from Doc as the hand that had pressed against the outside thigh as it caressed the light material; gathered that very material so she could walk with him at his pace, without worrying about any of it catching or dragging too terribly. “How was your week? Work?” Elizabeth inquired as they climbed the stairs to the entrance of the building. “I do hope it was well, for I know not what lays in store for us...it would be disappointing if one's entire week was dreary and dreadful.”

Doc: “Well apart from my email server completely annoying someone whose opinion I wish to think well of me.. It has been fair.” Reaching forward, he opened the door for Elizabeth to precede him inside, while having the tickets at the ready, should they be asked for. “Imagine my chagrin when I was informed that I had .. knowingly ignored someone’s email. I am fucked if I do.. And fucked if I do not. Stupid server, either sends duplicate emails for every one I send, or it decides not to one at all.”

As they moved into the crowd, Doc realized they would be in the thick of the crowd, should they go to the right as they were directed. Holding up the VIP access ticket to the hostess, Doc led Elizabeth to the left. “I detest crowds. A perk of the VIP, we can do not have to follow the sheep as they plod along. We can move at will.” As they arrived at the first exhibit, which would be, by rights, the ending exhibit; Doc held the ticket up to read it, just to make sure he was at the correct exhibit.

Looking at the exhibit, then the ticket, the the exhibit, he finally turned to Elizabeth. “This is ******* art? To whom?” ( https://artimage.org.uk/media/235128/spike.jpg )


Elizabeth: There was an amused twinkle in her eyes when Doc spoke of the email mishap. Whose fault it was, no one would know. Perhaps his server, or perhaps somehow the email was lost in translation in the internet world. The conversation reminded her to look into her security settings, and ensure that the email did not find its way into ‘junk mail,’ on her end. “Yes, but now you have a new friend. How is...Steve, was it?” Elizabeth mused aloud as two tickets were bought out by Doc and shown, in order to avoid traffic.

It would be a lie, if Elizabeth replied something polite about the exhibition before them. While the woman had an appreciation for art, and beauty on a magnitude of many levels, seeing dried up cacti arranged in no particular order, in a square pattern had Elizabeth wondering the same thing as Doc, but perhaps in not such a colourful expression. “I imagine like all things in regards to art-it is open to interpretation.” Elizabeth canted her head to the right slightly, the fingers on her dress rubbing at the material as the woman resisted the urge to step forward and revitalize each and every single cactus in the square formation. “I think it signifies the representation of life-as with most things. Appreciation for time being short, and how beautiful things can be in their peak. There is also beauty in death.” Elizabeth spoke plainly, her blue irises fixed on a cactus that would be lucky to see another week at the rate it was going. “But, who knows? Perhaps, that is something you may ask the creator, when you see them.” She offered, fingers smoothing down the dress, careful to not crinkle the material too much from her repetitive crushing of the gown.

Doc: Doc snorted derisively, as Elizabeth waxed on about some greater meaning of the sticky hurty plants placed on the floor. “Really? That’s your conclusion.” He gave her a flat look. “Do you know what it tells me..? What -my- conclusion is?” He paused as he looked at the floor that was littered with cacti debris.

“It screams to me.. ‘Oh ****! I need an exhibit for a traveling art exhibit.It’s only going to Canada. What the **** do they know? They are too ******* polite to be rude. I know I will raid my grandmother’s sunroom. She will never miss the the bastards.As long as I am a total prima donna about how they have to be arranged, people will give them a meaning more than, I have nothing to ******* show for money they gave me.”

Turning to look pointedly at Elizabeth, he said quite droolly, “Steve would ******* agree with me, before he attempted to eat it.. Or kick the **** out of it.” He rolled his eyes. “VIP tickets for this? So we can ask about the care of cacti.. ‘Oh how do you care for them on the road?’ ‘We don’t water them.. If they die.. It just adds to the art..’”

Elizabeth: She listened to Doc without any interruption, then thought about the donkey and how he very well may try and eat them, or destroy them in some other means. The woman could imagine it, it was, after all an animal and in her mind they only had basic innate drives. Eating, going to the bathroom and sleeping. “And pray tell, what would one, such as yourself consider art, if not dying cacti?” Elizabeth twisted her lips in amusement, as her eyes wandered, wondering just how many people were in there with them at this time and how carefully they were being watched. Contrary to the thought of behaving and not touching things; the woman inched slightly closer, testing the boundaries of what was acceptable proximity to the gallery, before someone interjected.

Doc: “What do I consider art? John Copley. I can remember seeing a painting of his when I was boy. It was a painting of a shark attack. Not a contemporary shark attack mind you, but a shark attack during the painter’s life time, the 1700’s. Sharks were mythical monsters, in that time. They ate people and were enormous in size. Yet John Copley painted a scene of a shark attack, and the proportions were correct.” He paused, before adding, “You know as well as I that time .. there were no camera’s. There were memories and someone’s sketches of an incident.”

“But Copley’s execution with paint, showed the fear, horror, the urgency that was caught in a snapshot in time while a group of men tried to save someone.” He sighed, “I wish you knew the painting I speak of.. Because that is art. It evokes emotion and thought, without effort.” He made a sweeping gesture at the cacti, “THis.. is evokes no emotion or thought, besides disgust that I paid money to ******* see it. And.. I feel used.”

Elizabeth: : John Copley-not someone Elizabeth was familiar with. Thankfully, it would not take her long to discover who the artist was, or the painting in which Doc referred to. While he spoke about the highlights of the painting, mixed with his own encounter, her mind drifted to pursue an image of the painting by the artist. The painting that Doc spoke of, once found, brought a question or two to mind, but Elizabeth refrained from asking them. For now. Instead, she focused the latter of his words, the woman finally stepping away from the dying cacti. “Perhaps, there is something more worthwhile and appealing further?” Elizabeth inquired, not willing to admit that perhaps this was not the best suggestion of hers. “There is really, only one way to find out.” With that, the woman unlooped her arm from Doc’s and moved to a piled maze of rope; that stood no higher than her calf and was easily to stare down upon. Her head tilted to the left as she walked around it, confusion riddled on her features. “I...am confused. Is this an exhibit, or?” She inquired, eyes shifting over to Doc.

Art - http://www.mcasd.org/sites/default/file ... k=G2p74heW - rope))

Doc: Following Elizabeth as she meandered further into the exhibits, he moved to stand by her as he watched her staring at an odd arrangement of ropes. Canting his head to the left, and crossing his arms he stared at the ropes that appeared to be glued into an arrangement of partially finished hexagons. “Perfectly good hemp rope gone to waste.”

Glancing about he hoped to find, perhaps... if it wasn’t too much ******* trouble, the name of the exhibit.. Or perchance.. A list of the drugs the artist was on when he created the pile of ****. Schooling his features to be blank, like when he had to play nice with the to the hospital benefactors, he added for Elizabeth’s benefit, “The lack of labeling and titles leaves a lot to be desired. If I were to name this.. I believe it would call it.. ‘Not a frayed knot.’”

Keeping his derisive humor to himself, he turned to Elizabeth, “And the last exhibit ..” he paused, “or should I say ‘artwork’, I would have named it, “The land of pricks’. And Lizzie? What would you name this one?”


Elizabeth: There was a flicker of amusement that crossed her face when Doc indicated the waste of the rope. She wandered around the display again, eyes bouncing between Doc and the art. She would agree that in the state the rope was in, that it was a waste, but if the rope could be altered...well, that would be an entirely different story, wouldn’t it? Her devious eyes bounced away to the cacti exhibit as Doc made reference to it, before trying to garner her artistic insights. “I am afraid, my titles would not be as witty as yours…” Elizabeth found her way besides Doc once again, before her eyes were cast down to the mess at their feet. “I would call it ‘tangled’ .” Her shoulders lifted into a high rise of a shrug, before her left arm looped around his right, before her hand came to rest on the top of his clothed wrist. “You are disappointed with the venue.” Elizabeth said plainly, her tone indicating it was not a question, but a statement. “The movie would have been a more agreeable choice, perhaps.” She concluded, before her eyes drifted away from the exhibit in front of them. “On a reassuring note, it cannot get much worse, yes?” She tilted her head so that her ocean coloured irises found his face, awaiting his confirmation. It seemed impossible that it could get worse than half dead cacti and a pile of hemp rope laid strewn upon the very floor they walked upon.

[Elizabeth]

Doc: Though he was somewhat disappointed with her rather predictable titles, there was something to be said for ‘less is more’ type approach. Perhaps his titles were too telling? Too leading. Perhaps the names he would give them would preclude the viewer from seeing the art in an open minded way? Wasn’t art supposed to make the viewer react in a way that was unique to each person? **** that ****. It was a pile of ******* ropes glued about a hexagon that had been pried free.

As she spoke Doc gave her a half grin, “Disappointed with the Venue? No.. not at all. The venue is quite comfortable and agreeable. Especially the temperature. The flooring I find quite agreeable.” He grinned to himself, while keeping a solemn and serious look on his face, “The Exhibit in the venue.. Leaves a lot to be desired. A ******* waste of a good venue, in my opinion.” As Elizabeth took his arm once more, he gave her a sardonic grin, “You have to understand ‘me’ Lizzie. I can be caustic and opinionated;” he lifted his eyebrows in a knowing manner, “But still be having an amusing time.”

Doc winked at her, “Has Steve not taught you anything?” He laughed to himself.

Elizabeth: Doc had taken her words and twisted them; but the way in which he had done that were both agreeable, and entertaining. Once again, her lips curved into an authentic smile, appreciating the weight of Doc’s words. Very slowly, the woman took a step away from the tangled mess upon the floor, thinking about what it was Steve might have taught her. An amusing thought fleeted into her mind, her free hand letting go of the dress as Elizabeth shook her head slowly. “I do not believe one desires to know what it is the things in which Steve has taught me.” With a coy smirk of her lips, the woman turned away, hiding her slightly devious, but amusing thought.

Thankfully, a wall of what appeared to be tapestries hanging, caught her attention and provided a much needed subject change for the woman. With another step forward, it didn’t take Elizabeth long to recognize what the ‘tapestry,’ was made out of. “There. The proof that you need that death can indeed be beautiful.” Elizabeth extended her free arm for Doc to see the proof himself; after all, a red poppy commemorated death.

Doc: ‘Death can beautiful’ she said. Death was never beautiful. He had seen far too many deaths, none of which had even been beautiful. Thought provoking, perhaps. Interesting, yes. But beautiful? No. Death, was inevitable. Even for vampires, death was inevitable. At some point, a vampire would be the death of,... or cause the death of, another. It was in their nature. Who was he to tell her that her view of death was beautiful. He was a sadistic ********, that felt no qualms in causing pain, harm and death.

Giving Elizabeth a long searching look, he did not speak for a long moment. The English had commemorated death with the red poppy for centuries. Remembering the fallen dead, for the deeds before death. Doc had often wondered if people really did remember the dead. He never had. Once they were dead, they were gone. Why remember what was gone and could no longer be? And were they so great when they were alive? No. In his experience, most people were relieved when those they professed to love, were then gone. You saw their way of life change. Change in ways that could not have happened, had the person lived.

Yes. He had studied death and how it affected the people it impacted. And in almost every case, though there was the odd anomaly case, those left behind,.. Aka the living, they improved. Improved ten fold in most cases. However, he wasn’t going to tell Elizabeth this. Doc gave her a smile, “Yes.. quite beautiful.”

Elizabeth: “Really?” She looked at Doc, challenging his statement. She found it difficult to believe that he had come to find something ‘beautiful’ in the exhibit after all. “And what, specifically do you find to be the most beautiful thing about this...almost tapestry?” The extended hand dropped after that train of questioning, before offering him some possible help, should he need it. “Is it the colour that you find agreeable, or the flower itself?” The woman moved closer to the tapestries, her narrowed eyes scrutinizing the piece.

“Did you know that before this flower was used to honour the fallen soldiers during…” She paused, trying to think when it was she read that poppies had converted to commemorate the fallen soldiers…”World War One,” Her tone was slightly questioning, obviously having missed that timeline and much more, thus making Elizabeth uncertain, “The flower was associated with wishing one great success, or letting a woman know that she is most beautiful?” Elizabeth tipped her head. “It is intriguing how they transformed the flower over the years, taking positive, and delightful things and associating it with those that have died in some of the horrendous ways? It seems almost...poetic, I suppose.” Did Elizabeth believe there was beauty in death? Yes, but not in the ways some may construe such an idea. The mere idea or dying was not what was beautiful, but what happened after death, was what was beautiful to the woman. One is buried usually, and left to the mercy of the earth. After years of battling the other, everything (flesh, organs and bones) starts to decompose and becomes part of the earth. And therefore started the process of creation-be it new earth, new grass, flowers, trees. Life could be found in death, if one looked hard enough.


Doc: Doc slowly gave a half turn, his hands clasped together in front of him, as she questioned his statement. She had presumed he meant the tapestry was beautiful. His eyes held a knowing gleam, as he slowly smiled at her while she stared at the tapestry. As she went on to expound her understanding of the poppy’s relationship with the English, and how it changed over time. “Poetic? How is taking something that is beautiful and making it mean broken, blown up, destroyed bodies .. poetic? It is nothing more than propaganda. Oh yes, they create a good story. They use elements ‘of fact’ in the telling of their grand story. But it is all designed to hide and disguise the truth. That war is hell. War is ugly. It is brutal and it destroys lives. Those eager to see past the realities of war, embrace the pretty idea of using pretty little flowers to remember the dead. Instead of letting people remember the realities of war.”

Turning his head back to the tapestry, he murmured, “Oh..” He pause as he canted his head to really look at the wall hanging, “My comment before.. wasn’t about the tapestry..”

Elizabeth: There was an amused twinkle in her eyes as Doc explained his thoughts and she waited until he was finished before she stated her thoughts. “War is a great many of those things and so much more...and yet, I am confident that we can both be honest and say we have seen our fair share of it, yes? I am not judging thee, but one has some very strong views on the aftermath.” Elizabeth said with a small chuckle, before explaining herself more. “It is not war itself that is poetic, but death as a whole. You see, we start from nothing. Nothing but a mere desire, wish and sometimes hopeful opportunity from our parents. We develop and grow, then die, however we die, by whatever means and then we all have a chance to become part of everything. A plant, a tree...a park, refuge for a small animal. Well, those of us who can die and be buried. I find that, beautiful and poetic. Is death tragic? Certainly, we have all had our fair share of tragic deaths, but they never really do die, do they?” There was a light lift of her bare shoulders her eyes moved to the tapestry of poppy flowers. Perhaps Doc was right in some respects, Elizabeth was willing to agree that the poppies have become propaganda, but many people buy into that propaganda.

Elizabeth’s attention shifted from the tapestry, and moved to Doc where her blue eyes could focus on the side of his face. “Ahh, so we are in agreement that death can be beautiful after all.” Elizabeth concluded warmly, even if their thoughts were completely different on the matter. “Now you have my interest piqued. But perhaps another time, when there are not so many ears, or recording devices around?” The woman suggested with a slow lift of her shoulders, before she moved to his side and looped her arm through his own. “Since we are in the mood of confessing small truths, I admit that I find my time with thee most enjoyable. No matter what the event is for the evening. I enjoy our conversations, even if there are no agreeable viewpoints.” Elizabeth said quietly, blue eyes observing Doc’s facial features; from the colour of his eyes, to the shape of his jawbone. “Shall we sneak away?” Elizabeth asked as another couple came sneaking their way into the VIP area, Elizabeth pointing to a room that had two entry points in adjacent walls.

Doc: At her suggestion, that they perchance sneak away, he could have kissed her. Doc had actually looked forward to the art exhibition, until he was actually exposed to it. This ‘art exhibition’ was nothing more than the repurposing of junk. Yes. Junk. In any other setting it would all be classified as trash, and hauled off to the nearest dump. And even though the Poppies Tapestry was not a complete affront to the senses like the others, it was still nothing more than decoration. There was no art to it. A primary school child could have created the same thing. For all he knew, a primary school child did create it. His earlier anticipation for the exhibit had fizzled like the air being let out of a balloon.

“I fully support this suggestion.” Doc turned to face her fully, his face wearing a solemn look, “However, You would miss out on the VIP access. You would not have the chance to find out where these fine artists find their supplies. You would miss out on any dumpster diving tips that they might have been willing to share… are you sure you wish to forgo that awesome experience?” The solemn look dissolving into an amused smirk.


Elizabeth: Elizabeth was….pleasantly surprised when Doc agreed with her proposal. While she knew he was no fan of the art they were observing, they had only seen but a few of the exhibits; certainly not enough to get his money’s worth. She could hear the humour in his voice as he spoke and it was noted in his smirk. She brought a finger to her chin and gave it a thoughtful tap, before there was an upward curl of her own set of lips; one that almost mirrored his own. “While that sounds absolutely….delightful,” There was a pause as the woman feigned sadness, the finger and hand dropping to her side, before Elizabeth continued. “I believe there are other things meant for this evening, other than learning how to be the queen of trash.” Elizabeth moved away from Doc a little, before she turned a little, her bright blue eyes falling on him. “Besides, if you are that worried about me missing something so...enjoyable, perhaps one should offer something more...desirable.” With that, Elizabeth’s fingers collected the soft material of her dress so that she could pick it up off the floor, and disappeared through the closest open doorway to her.

Doc: Doc chuckled to himself as he followed her regal departure. Catching up to her easily, he offered her his arm, “Please allow me to escort you. We cannot have you go about unattended. Someone might try to take advantage of you. Not that you can’t handle yourself.” he slid his gaze to her hem then back to her eyes, his own holding a devilish glint to them, “You are, but one stray step away from nudity..”

“Since we are fleeing this abominable excuse for an art exhibition.. Where shall we go next? Some place new perhaps? Or perhaps, a stroll through an abandoned amusement park?” Doc often walked the city at night. Usually when he wanted a smoke. But in those nighttime strolls he often found things that were interesting, intriguing and not something that would be seen during the day. Gang activity was particularly virulent at night.

Elizabeth: She hadn’t walked very fast, Elizabeth’s intent was not to abandon Doc, but to get them moving on to doing something other than trying to find beauty in works that had difficulty portraying that image. When the arm was offered, Elizabeth gladly took it, looping her arm through his once again with a soft smile. When Doc spoke of being taken advantage of, she gave him a questioning glance, before laughing at the thoughts that followed after the statement. There was a devious glint to her blue eyes, before she looked at him with feigned surprise. “Is that so?” She inquired, well aware of the fact that it would not take much for her dress to find the ground. It was an interesting notion to her; when she purchased the dress, being almost completely covered from head to toe, yet within three seconds she would be revealing all.

Where to go? She thought about his suggestion in silence as they walked down the stairs of the art museum, then looked at him. “I believe tonight was your night...I will leave the choice to you. I will follow you to wherever you wish to go.” The amusement park idea had her thinking the most, unsure what something ‘new’ might be for him. It was far more likely that Doc had ventured to more places than her within the last few years-so many places would fall into the ‘new’ category for her. “However….on second thought….Where is your favourite place within the city?” Elizabeth asked, curious to find out where that location was and why. “That is where I would like to go, if it is agreeable to thee.”

Doc: “That is a very good question.” His tone was casual and thoughtful, as he pondered his answer. “You may not know this.. But once upon a time, I would not leave the library. I found more peace in the library, than other place in the world.” He slid an amused glance at her, “Then I discovered … girls… and the library seemed to pale in comparison.” He paused, “Not that I gave up the library, but I was never so much the bookworm again.”

As they reached the door, Doc opened it for her and let her precede him through it. His gait was an easy ambling stroll. Nothing fast or pressing. “After high school, I headed to University, where I discovered ‘human nature’.” He glanced at her, as he directed them toward the river walk. “I still liked to study, and still liked girls, but I did not have the time to devote to a girl like she should deserve.. So I watched them, while I tried to study. Wasn’t nearly as rewarding. But my studies demanded it. After University, my penchant for watching people remained.”

Doc paused in his step, to look at her, “It isn’t so much the place I like.. Than it is.. Watching people. There is a diner, just a ways from here. Nothing glamorous, or special about it. I have spent a lot of relaxing evenings in that diner. So we can go there.. Or some place else.. Your call.”

[Doc]

Elizabeth: She believed that at some point, Doc had spent some time at a library. His level of intellect spoke volumes about him, and if he did not get everything he knew from schooling, then Doc had gotten it somewhere. When he mentioned ‘girls,’ Elizabeth’s lips twisted into an amused smirk at his confession. Was the blonde surprised that Doc enjoyed ‘girls,’ or women, as it were? Not especially. He seemed to have a lot of female childre, and it appeared most his friends were female.

When Doc stopped, so did she and allowed herself to listen to him completely, and not to the sounds of cars driving by, people entering or leaving the museum, or other sounds too far away to even worry about, or care about. “So long as one is not required to eat...or drink,” Elizabeth said with a soft laugh, before nodding her head. “Then, I would like to see this place and just...watch with thee.” Elizabeth found value in Doc’s words and smarts, recognizing that he had a far broader intelligence past that of book intelligence.


Doc: Doc grinned openly. “Oh it is the most glorious.. Hole in the wall diner. Fred is the fry cook and owner.” He moved to continue their stroll toward the Riverfront Diner, “He is on his third wife, another waitress, Charlene..” He grimaced a bit, “Unless she has left him.” He cants his head toward her, and says as though it is a secret, “They all leave him. They think he is rich, because he never spends his money on things. They just assume he is saving it all. But he has gambling problem. He is into the mob for thousands.”

He lifts his head, continuing to speak in a normal tone. “Charlene the wife.. Perhaps ex-wife, has a prettier younger sister, that makes a habit of hitting on whatever male Charlene is interested in at the time. Charlene flirted with me.. Just to throw Sybil off, and Sybil made a nuisance of herself and ended up in a cesspool. I can’t ******* stand whiney females.” He thought a moment, “Then there is Carl, if we are lucky, he will be there tonight. Carl is a lineman for the local electric co-op. But Carl spends more time in the diner, than on the line. He is in desperate lust over Charlene. But Carl.. a secretly wealthy man, will never get her, because he gives her whatever she wants, without her even asking.”

Doc grinned, “When I was in University, before Med school, I spent a lot of time there.”

Elizabeth: The blonde telepath absorbed everything Doc said about the people that worked for, or spent a lot of time within the diner they were going to. “How truly scandalous.” Elizabeth stated, humour within her voice. “One cannot help but wonder what it is, they may think about thee.” Her devious eyes bounced to him with mischief, before looking ahead. “Are vampires and humans the same? In regards to ‘people’ watching?” She inquired, Elizabeth’s arm tightening around his own. “Or, do you not watch vampires, finding humans more interesting to watch?” Elizabeth wondered his thoughts on the idea, believing behaviours of vampires changed to some aspect after their siring process, but some habits remained for quite a while. Habits or quirks from their past life; the human one, until a great amount of time passed, and even then...some things were difficult to move past. “I do apologize if I ask too many questions...if one wishes to keep their secrets...secret...I would understand.”

Doc: Doc grinned crookedly to himself, “Vampires are far more predictable.” He shrugged lightly, “It’s the god complex. Most vampires are young. Under thirty years of age. They have been gifted with immortality.. They think they are bulletproof. They aren’t, but they do not realize that. But they are all full of bravado and arrogance. This is typically how it goes.. Vampire guy hits on vampire chick, in an absent ‘do you in a rush’ type way. Vampire chick turns him down, or shoots him.. They end up doing the nasty in an alleyway, after they punch each other and lust gets rolling. Nine times out of ten.”

He sighed. “I think the process of turning exacerbates the female libido.” He looked at her, “Do not think I am being sexist by saying that. Young males are always ready to ****. Young females.. Not so much.. Until they are turned.. Then they tend to go nuts worse than the males. I can say this.. Because I have turned some down. ME.. I said no. That is saying something.”

Elizabeth: Elizabeth looked at him with wide eyes and then laughed, louder than she had before. “I do not believe it has to do with the age of the woman being sired, as so much the...time frame in which one has been sired. I was young once upon a time…” She reminded him with a raise of her right pointer finger. “Is that truly what transpires? How companionship among our kind works these evenings?” Elizabeth slowly shook her head. It could not be that...predictable...nine out of ten times?

“And what is that saying, pray tell? That one does not like violence?” She raised a skeptical brow in his direction, knowing that not to be true. “Or perhaps one is just pickier than most. There is no crime in that…” She said, pondering over another alternative. “Or perhaps one simply prefers a different sort of challenge. One that is not so...predictable. Challenges are...more exciting and adventurous, yes?” She concluded her thoughts with a question, blue irises flicking to Doc, curious about his thoughts.

Doc: Doc’s lipped curled into sadistic grin, “Oh.. I like violence. I like it quite well.” He almost elaborated on the subject, but still smiling he moved on with the next thought, “And yes.. I do prefer a challenge. Things that come too easy, well .. they always tend to come back and bite a person in the ***. At least in my experience.”

They strolled in silence for a few moments, “The way I see it.. The chase.. Is only ‘part’ of the challenge. The real challenge is getting past their protective barrier.” He wasn’t looking at her as he spoke, but rather forward toward diner in the distance. “Everyone has a barrier. I do, you do. Everyone does. So the real challenge is getting past it, to the real person beneath.” He sighed, “The trouble with most .. females of my acquaintance..” he turned and gave her a quick wink, “Present company excluded, is that once you get past the barrier, there is no depth. You break down the wall to find the painting hiding behind it, and it turns out to be blank. They, in my opinion, are all too consumed with,” his voice changed to a derisive tone. “Their feelings.. And how petty **** in their past, things that should be forgotten, makes them feel sad..now.” He snorted to himself, his voice becoming normal again. “I know from first hand experience, living in the past is a waste. Suck it up.. Forget it. Move the **** on.”

Elizabeth: Too easy and biting one in the backside. Elizabeth could nod to that statement, recognizing that there was truth to that. Upon the return of the elders, things seemed so…easy and to be going well, but after a few promising months...the feeling vanished quicker than it came.

When he winked at her, she smiled and listened curiously as to where his train of thought was going. As he spoke, her attention shifted away from him, Elizabeth’s gaze looking dead ahead as she pondered his words. “Again, one thinks too highly of me…” She trailed off, thinking. “You have, once upon a time, believed that you loved someone...you spoke of her. Or at least had very strong, fond feelings.” Elizabeth did not want to presume too much about Doc’s feelings. “When I was human, I had not that experience...but finally believed I had found it not all that long ago…” She said openly, her eyes fell upon him for a minute, before she looked past him. “It took a great deal and time getting over the novelty and idea that perhaps, one was incorrect to presume the other’s feelings.” She stated flatly, with a gentle roll of her shoulders. “I hate to admit such a thing...but feelings over-rode the logical side and aspects of a great many of things.” Her lips twisted in mild amusement. “I do hope that one does not think too poorly of me, at such a revelation.” Her eyes once again focused on what was in front of them, and not so much Doc.

Doc: “Think poorly of you?” He turned to look at her and gave her a quick grin, before once more looking ahead, “Never. It makes you fallible. A female needs to be fallible.. Because, well.. .otherwise, we males would never have a way to win you lot over.” He took a moment, then started again, “I am going to be honest Lizzie, at one time I thought I was in love. I did. But it was a lie. All of it. And as time went on.. Feeling of love faded.. Replaced by anger. Lots of anger. And after a lot of violence, that feeling faded too.

“I have now come to the realization that.. Love does not exist. Love is construct. A marketing tool for businesses to sucker people into buying crap, to prove their love. Don’t get me wrong. I believe that there is fondness between people. But that is all. People believe the hype that they ‘should’ be able to feel love, and they talk themselves into it. They obsess over it. They lie to themselves that they ‘love’ someone.” He stopped walking and turned to face her, “But as time goes on that feeling goes away. It fades. Then people hate one another… after professing this ‘undying love’.

“At one point in time, I fell victim to it as well. But now.. No.. I cannot say I believe in love. And if I am wrong, and it does exist, then it is a very rare and elusive thing. And only a few are ever lucky to have it.”

Elizabeth: She mulled Charles’ words over, as they stood face to face, then found herself lightly nodding. Had she felt anger at Shamus? Perhaps, but not to the same degree he had at the time his feelings had been ‘betrayed.’ . It had not been anger, so much as disappointment, if the woman thought about it. Elizabeth had been strongly disappointed in so many ways. Could she hate him? Unlikely. After about three years, Elizabeth had moved past the negative feelings and felt nothing about it anymore. It had been a great struggle to arrive to his point, but there were some who had helped her finally move past it all.

Fondness. An interesting notion and something she wanted to probe Charles’ about more. “And can there be a fondness of the same magnitude for multiple people?” Elizabeth asked, with a cant of her head. “Or is the idea impossible and a person can only feel a higher level of fondness for person A, than person B, and person C?” He had opened up a channels of thoughts that Elizabeth had never heard, nor thought of, but the topic was of interest now, almost certain that he was right about the concept of love.

Doc: “I think, based on my personal experiences, that yes, fondness can be held for several people at once. I believe that,” Doc shrugged, “the levels of fondness, that is commercially called ‘love’, are created by the individuals themselves. They are fed this line, by ads, television, radio, movies.. And they buy into that lie, telling themselves, they are not whole, unless they too can say they experienced that deep emotional feeling. They do not want to be out there alone, unloved. Unable to love.”

“So they embrace that illusion of love. They obsess, they feed that obsession, until they find someone to share it with. Another lonely unloved person, who so desperately wants to be loved, they jump at it.” He looked up at the stars overhead, “And most of them are dysfunctional relationships. People have fed into the idea of love too much to let it go.” He looked at Lizzie, “In your youth, marriage wasn't based on love.. But marriages worked. Because they were based on a partnership. Not emotion. Somewhere along the lines, things got messed up.”

Elizabeth: Elizabeth laughed at the thought of ‘messed up.’ She had heard it used before, but not in regards to ‘love.’ “Not all worked.” She corrected him with an extravagant wave of her left arm in her direction. “But most...yes.” The thought made her wonder if her marriage had not worked due to her own faults and expectations. Had she been unrealistic in expecting her husband to care more about the loss of their child, than fishing? No. But perhaps some of the other things may have been less trivial than she believed back then. Perhaps. At most...some.

“You have an interesting way of looking at things, Charles.” Elizabeth commented, before adding on, “I would venture to say that those thoughts are not very popular with the women of this time.” She twisted her lips in humour, before shrugging her shoulders. “I mean that in light heartedness.” She had not been so much mocking him, as trying to understand him and the relations with his ‘peers.’ “It is interesting to me...the idea of this holiday in February. Much has changed about it since I remember it. It is almost as celebrated as Christmas, yes?” Elizabeth shook her head. Both ‘holidays’ never having been celebrated by her until a handful of years ago. “How people change.” She mused aloud, as her arm found his once again. “And time, I suppose one cannot blame just people.” Elizabeth uttered as her eyes meandered towards the direction they had been heading towards. “I suppose there are studies about the idea of love and its premise?” She tilted her head in his direction with the inquiry, interested if his thoughts were his own, or if there were others who thought of ‘love’ such as he did.

[Elizabeth]

Doc: Doc smirked crookedly, “Valentine’s Day.. another construct of businesses to force a reason for people to buy things. ‘Buy jewelry to prove your love!’, and woe betide the male that did not buy his ‘beloved’ jewelry. He surely must not love her.. If he cannot be made to purchase her jewelry on that special day. Weeks of the cold shoulder, hurt feelings. And why? Because people bought into the advertising of a holiday that was created.”

Doc smirked, “Think about it.. What would the real Saint Valentine think, if he saw his name was being bastardized for merchandising? And Christmas… let us think about that one. Another on co opted by business. According to the bible.. Christ died for human sin. And to celebrate that great sacrifice.. Man celebrate his birth. Except.. There was only heaven or hell after death in that story.. But..” He he gave her a quick look before looking forward again, “Here we are.. Dead.. but not in heaven or hell.. Therefore.. Christ is a lie. And thereby celebrating his sacrifice .. is celebrating a lie.”

He chucked, “And .. the date they celebrate it..? That is wrong too. That date is the pagan holiday Saturnalia, the Roman church lied.. Said it was Christs’ birthday to get the pagans’ to convert. Humans are blind ******* cattle that will believe anything.”

Elizabeth: Elizabeth mused over his words and then countered with, “But so are some of our kind.” She smiled, knowing that all too well. The premise of Christianity in any of its forms had died for her, when she was, as Doc explained, dead, yet...not. “Indeed. But, in truth, what is not half truth and half a lie when it comes to ideas or beliefs that have changed the world? Most things seem to have twists of fairytales or bedtime stories. Or a wild imagination.” Elizabeth laughed before thinking of her own childhood for a moment. “My father, though his trade was with his hands, had a way about him when he told miraculous stories. There was at best, a handful of truth within those stories, but...and perhaps due to the naive nature of a child, there were a great many times in which the stories he told seemed so...believable.” She shook her head, a twinkle within her eyes. “He had a soft spot for me, perhaps because I was the only girl in the family. I, along with my younger brother often got to hear his wild tales.” Another laugh came from her lips, before she continued on. “Before I was old enough to understand where most of our dinner meat came from...I asked him where some of our livestock had gone to...Needless to say, he did not wish to indulge me the harsh realities of the world…”

Elizabeth ‘tsk’d’ while her head shook for the final time. “And we know all about the stories of vampires…I am still waiting for the eve in which I am gifted my bat form.” She mused aloud, having the ‘privilege’ of hearing what they could and could not do, years ago from one of her childre. “Before I forget, I wanted to thank thee for inviting me out this evening. I have rather enjoyed myself, even if the art was...different. The company was enjoyable.” Elizabeth finished, her eyes upon him now. “I hope that I am not being too forward as to state that I find I am rather...fond of our time together. And hope that another night will come of this one. Whatever that may be--art, conversation...” The petite blonde trailed off, her eyes moving ahead of them once again, quietly thinking about the potential implications behind her words.

Doc: “But Lizzie.. Tales told to children.. Are just that. Tales. Stories. Not meant to be truth. Even by your own telling, you know.. Know.. that they were merely exaggerated tales.” He smiled at her, “Storytelling is an art form all its own. An artform that has been lost. I am not surprised that he was able to stir your imaginations with his words. It was a time before radio and television.” His smile became a bit rueful, “Children’s imaginations in this time are stunted. Deformed. Malnourished, because they do not use them. Radio and television does that for them.

“Books stirred the imagination. Books can weave a tale through words, that come to life in a mind, causing the mind to create the scene in the mind’s eye. But so many today, do not read. Because it is.. Too time intensive. Go see a movie, it is faster.” He leaned back, as she changed the subject.

“I enjoy your company as well. You make me think outside the box. You make me stretch my imagination. I can be very, single minded. It is not a trait I care for. I want to be able to see beyond the normal; beyond the expected. You help me do that.” He inclined his head toward her respectfully. “And I appreciate, and thank you for this.”

Elizabeth: A fond smile crossed her features as Doc spoke about books and how they brought life to the imagination of its readers. “You speak as if one has read a great many of children’s books…” Elizabeth commented, trying to picture Doc with a carpet full of children around him and the story that he would pick. It made her laugh thinking about the novel-something with a harsh life lesson, perhaps. Slightly dark and sinister. A hand found her lips, before she shook her head and washed the laugh away with that shake. The mention of televisions had the woman’s nose crinkling a little, before the subject was moved away from the television and movie aspects. “And here, I was thinking that it was just my narrowness in thoughts that were being introduced to new horizons.” The blonde Telepath said with a glimmer in her eyes. “What was the first book that one read of your own choosing?” She asked, her eyes upon him, slightly curious on the genre he had been interested in, and still may be. “Has one read, ‘The Blazing World?’ It is....a bit before your time...but it was the first book in which I purchased with my own funds. I had a copy...but it was lost in the fire the night most of us elders perished.” Her eyes traveled away for a moment, before she blinked and then returned back to the discussion. “Her husband had written some sonnets...and plays, I believe.” Elizabeth concluded, letting him know a little more about the writer behind the novel.

Doc: The first book of his choosing? Easy, Grey’s Anatomy. It probably wasn’t what she would expect. He had wanted to view, hold, and read that book from the earliest time he could remember. But it wasn’t allowed. His father had denied him access to it. Keeping it in view, but out of reach. His father knew how much he wanted to look at it. Taunted him with it, by pulling it out that idly thumb through when he was in the room. So close, but never allowed to touch or view its pages.

His mother thought it horrid book for a child and took his father’s side in the argument. Yes, perhaps it was a bit much for a six year old, but loving parent would have cherished and nurtured his thirst for knowledge, instead of forbidding it. They would have made an effort to turn his curiosity into an acceptable form, by giving him age appropriate books on the subject. But they did not. They chose to forbid, and thus his animosity grew. It wasn’t just the book, it was one of many events he could look back on and see how his parents failed him. Failed, because they never really tried.

Giving Lizzie a regretful smile, “I cannot say I have read it in it’s entirety. I have .. tried to read it. But the style is one that .. I find tedious, overbearing and unbelievable. In less than two pages she meets an emperor and he marries her thinking her goddess? And that is.. After the shipwreck where all hands were lost.. except hers, she being saved due to her outstanding beauty? Ludicrous.” He looked at her sternly, “Tell me you did not mourn the loss of that book?”

Elizabeth: Elizabeth laughed, not surprised that Doc felt that way about the book in which she mentioned. “It was not so much the loss of the book, but the loss of something far greater. Women were not supposed to read books back then, Charles.” She shook her head. “We were meant to look pretty, daunt on our husband and children, and have no real free thoughts. Besides, not that I have much knowledge to make such a claim, but I believe she was one of the first female writers of my time. Her story may have been a bit...very well, increasingly irregular,” She laughed, but continued on, “But I enjoyed her courage to write and her innovation. Today anyone could write anything...male, female, white, black, but it was not always this way.” She reminded him, before concluding with, “You very graciously avoided my question.” She said with a wave of her right index finger, before lifting her shoulders into a shrug and offering him an amusing smile.

Doc: “Fair enough.. What little I do know of that time period, I can imagine it was quite scandalous for a woman to be educated enough to write a book; much more scandalizing to actually write one.” He gave her grimacing look, “But baby.. She could NOT write. I get the whole women’s liberation thing. But the publisher had to know it wasn’t literature. It was only published because she -was- a woman.” His grimace turned into an apologetic look, “And you bought into the hype.” He rolled his eyes as if silently saying.. ‘Sucker!’

Then she called him on, his avoidance of her question. His earlier grimace returned, but this time it was not aimed at her, but internalized at himself. ****. Fine. She wanted to know.. He would tell her. “Grey’s Anatomy. That was the book I wanted to read. To view. To study. But it was denied me. It took seven long years before I was actually able to view the book I yearned to see.” The grimace turned into a self-mocking smirk, “And yes.. It -was- all I thought it would be.”

Elizabeth: Elizabeth knew what Grey’s anatomy was. Was she surprised? Yes, and no. It was the way Charles was designed; it would be the same in regards to her...She planted flowers again this year? No one would be shocked at such a statement, or surprised. “Yes, well...we must forgive her for not being permitted to be fully educated.” Elizabeth mused aloud, then smirked, before turning his words against him. “And baby, that is not literature. It is more like a dictionary, from what I understand. While interesting...it did not come forth from someone’s personal creativity.” Elizabeth teased Doc, before adding in, “Though, it is very knowledgeable.” She coinceded with a dip of her head.

“Why was such a thing denied to thee?” Elizabeth asked, genuinely curious and confused. The book seemed relatively harmless. Comparable to a study guide. What was the harm in that? “Or perhaps, the better question is...who kept thee from reading it?”

Doc: When she turned his endearment back on him, he grinned. A full wide bodied grin. There censure that was probably meant by it.. However, it had no effect on him, except to tell him, Lizzie was one to be reckoned with if ever you made her angry. The grin perhaps .. maybe got wider. “You are absolutely correct. It is a dictionary of type. A dictionary of knowledge. And with knowledge comes power..” He gave her a wink.

“Once power is attained, why would I need the parents? Hmm? For support and .. moral guidance perhaps? Except.. They were never that for me. They were the antithesis of that. The father more so than the mother. The mother was weak and submitted easily” He drew the word out, “to the father. The father.. He was the ******** that denied me the book. Why? Because it amused him to see me want something that he had the power to deny.” His grin waned. “I did not know a normal childhood Lizzie. It was dysfunctional. It was violent and it was wrong. I know this now. Unfortunately .. I did not know this as a child.”

Doc almost laughed as he admitted, “I thought all families were like mine. It used to make me angry to see my classmates laugh. How could they laugh? What was it about them.. That allowed them to laugh when I could not?” He snorted derisively, “I am loath to admit this.. But I was .. 15 years old before I realized … how twisted my homelife really was..”

Doc looked at Lizzie pointedly, his lips pressed together in resolution. “I said I would not lie to you. I did not.” He looked at her solemnly, “Life sucks.”

Elizabeth: There were a lot of things revealed to Elizabeth in the words that Doc spoke. His family-his home life had not been enjoyable and there were tensions between he and his father. Struggles for power from his father. She could relate to some of the things Doc spoke about in regards to her mother. “Indeed.” Elizabeth said agreeing with the statement 'knowledge comes power.' Perhaps, his father was afraid that Charles would surpass him. There was a strong personality to Charles, perhaps even at a young age and his father 'sensed it about him.' Much like an animal did. There could only be one alpha male and Elizabeth expected that when Doc was old enough, it would be him and his father perhaps loathed the idea of it. Knowing that he would lose power.

There was another nod with the sentiment of 'life sucks.' She knew that too, but instead of reflecting too hard on the statement, Elizabeth turned it to a different direction. “Yes, but thankfully for us, life now, is what we make of it.” She commented quietly, offering him a small smile. “In some respects, we can get it wrong, and try again. The humans cannot claim such a thing.” Elizabeth almost moved to embrace Doc, but when she leaned forward, she stopped abruptly and then chided herself silently. In talks such as these, it was natural to want to offer a measure of physical comfort along with mental or emotional; like she did with her childre. But Doc was not her childre and so, such a thing would not be appropriate.

Doc: Doc nodded slowly, “Yes, we can.” He was silent for a long moment. “That is what I am trying to do.” He stared off into the distance, “When I was .. alive.. I never let anyone get close. I watched people use one another. Get used by one another. My father was a bully. My mother, she suffered at his hands. Nothing I said or did, would make her leave him. She ‘loved’ him. How messed up is that? How does a person, who gets beaten repeatedly, ‘love’ their abuser?”

They walked in silence for a while, “So now.. I am trying again. I am trying not be aloof. I am attempting to give a damn. It isn’t that easy.” He shook his head, “I am used to watching from the outside, looking in. I can spot the flaws in people. Find their weaknesses. I could use them against if I wanted. But what I cannot do easily.. Is care. Some people I can.. But for the most part.. Nope.”

Doc laughed a bit ruefully, “Sorry for that.” He pointed, “There is the diner I was telling you about.” He closed the distance and held the door open for her, “After you…”

[Doc]

Elizabeth: Elizabeth listened and pondered on his words. More so, at his confession. It was, a little troublesome to hear something such as that on multiple fronts. She could not answer why people did the things in which they did. Perhaps that was the life they knew before they grew into adults. Perhaps people made a person a certain way as they grew into adulthood, or circumstances. It was hard to say, because it made Elizabeth reflect at her own life and the habits she had.

Doc’s confession had her wondering if he ‘watched’ her and what he believed were her ‘weaknesses.’ How could she not, at those words? It would be naive for her to think that he wasn’t studying her to some degree since it was habitually ingrained within him. She let it alone for now, offered a smile after a laugh and then parted her lips to speak. “We are a perfect balance of the other in terms of personalities. I perhaps care too much, which could be seen as a flaw to a great many.” Her blue eyes sparkled in amusement, at her own confession. “And do not apologize, unless your words are not true.” She said, finding no reason-no need for an apology. He spoke what was upon his mind and what was true and that was all she required from Doc.

When the door was opened, Elizabeth stepped inside with a light, ‘thank you,’ and looked inside as she slowly entered. A few faces turned to see who was coming in, before they turned back to their meals or conversations. She moved to sit in a booth closest to the door, in case they decided to leave sooner than later. Her dress was gathered as she sat down, eyes on Doc. “You spoke of knowing the weaknesses of others. But, does one ever think about their own?” Elizabeth had not narrowed down any specific weaknesses about Doc. None that could genuinely be labeled as such. He swore and was often direct. If those were his weaknesses, she could only imagine the time in which he came to found out some of hers.

Doc: Doc was going to direct her to the back booth, but she slid into the first one. He looked from her then to the back booth, then back to her and slid in across from her, at the first booth. He pondered telling her that the first booth was the coldest. Had a draft. Wasn’t conducive to people watching. But that would be ungallant, surly, and rude. For the most part, Doc tried not to be rude to people he respected. He respected Lizzie. Had it been anyone else, or even someone he respected but knew better, he would have informed them of their poor choice of seat. But he wasn’t quite ready to be that blunt with Lizzie yet.

Doc looked at her for long moment, before he drew a breath and nodded. “I think quite a bit about my own weaknesses.” He fell silent again, as though it were an extremely hard subject for him to discuss openly. He hating admitting to himself that he had weaknesses, much less, admitting it to someone else. But there was the rub, he told Lizzie he would not lie to her. So far he had been good at not lying. He knew she expected him to expound on his answer, but he was going to leave his answer at just what he said. He was not going to elaborate. Did he think of his own weaknesses? Yes. Yes he did.

Smiling at her, unashamedly, “Next question…”

Elizabeth: A change of subject was needed for a couple of reasons. While Doc answered her question, Elizabeth noticed how nothing followed after that; nothing other than the statement of ‘next question.’ She nodded her head, obliging the requests of sorts, before the woman glanced to the tables on the other side of the room. “What would one be doing tonight, if I was unable to attend tonight’s event?” Elizabeth asked, curious on if he would have attended the event, or perhaps avoided it.

Just then a waitress came over and put down two menus, safeguarded by heavy and durable plastic, then started jotting off their specials for the night. My name’s Karla, she stated with a click of her pen. She asked what they would like to drink and gave them the customary smile almost all waitresses around the world possessed. “Water, please.” Her eyes moved to Charles after placing her order, hands tucked neatly within her lap.

Doc: Doc smiled politely as the waitress introduced herself, “Karla, you’re new..we haven’t met. I’m…” He paused, giving Lizzie a lazy grin, “.. Chuck. You will see me here a lot. I am working on a novel,” he lied easily. “Coffee please.. Not that decaf **** either..”

Karla nodded, clicked her pen again, because.. How hard was it to remember water and coffee. Woo. Highrollers. And the guy was writing the great American novel? God. She needed a new job.

As Karla left, Doc relaxed into the hard plastic booth, while giving Lizzie an amused grin, “What would I be doing? I would be home reading.. Studying,” He stopped, held a hand up and gestured in a waffling way, “Possibly watching a movie with Chub.”

Doc leaned forward, “I like movies. Chub likes movies. We watch a lot of movies together.” He leaned back, “Well .. we used to watch a lot of movies together. But .. um.. She got a boyfriend. Well.” He pressed his lips together in a knowing fashion, “You know what that means, right? When a girl gets a new guy in her life? Grandpa goes by the wayside.”

Thinking about what Lizzie asked, what would he be doing if she had not said yes,.. He would be home alone. Reading yet another medical journal. Why? Because the Ball and Chain was avoiding him at all cost.. Except to pick up a paycheck. Chub had her new Mr. in her life. Minx had Ric. Ariadne was her usual aloof self, which, he could not fault. But the upshot was, he would be alone, reading about a human malady that did not concern him one iota.

It was then, that Doc realized, he was just marking time. ****.

Elizabeth: She placed a hand upon the table while she listened about ‘chub’ and her boyfriend and what that meant for Doc. She nodded in understanding, knowing that rule of thumb did not just apply to just ‘grandpas,’ but sire’s as well. “Then perhaps one needs a new movie partner.” Elizabeth suggested as Karla set down her water and then the coffee. “Need more time to look over the menu?” She asked, eyes bobbing to Elizabeth and then to ‘Chuck.’ “I will have a piece of pie. Any. I do not mind.” Elizabeth’s blue eyes went to Doc, letting him more or less know that he was going to be the one getting the pie in the end. Elizabeth could barely swallow down water without a possible fiasco, the woman wasn’t about to attempt anything in regards to the pie.

Elizabeth waited until Karla had taken both their orders, before she changed the subject. “What does one think about our waitress? Her story?” Elizabeth inquired quietly after she turned her head slightly, making certain ‘Karla’ was no where near them.

Doc: Lizzie ordered him pie. He knew she meant it for him, after all he had witnessed her last experiment with food other than blood. He doubted she was in a hurry to repeat it. Problem was.. He had not practiced with food. Should he tell her? Or fake it? Try to choke it down and hold it back? He saw the gleam in her eye. She was teasing him, albeit in an absent and obscure kind of way. He smirked at her, fair enough. He could roll with this.

Doc flicked his gaze from Lizzie to Karla, “It is obvious she is working here under duress. Whether because she can’t find other work, or because she is so in debt that she has multiple jobs. The real question, is why is she here? She’s not unattractive. She could make triple what she’s making here, at a bar. So that tells me, she has high morals. She holds herself to a high level, but she’s not happy about it. She is depressed, and hating her life currently.”

He looked back at Lizzie, “What do you see?”

Elizabeth: The gleam in Doc’s eyes did not go amiss, resulting in her own amused look. Humour, be it dry, subtle, or even recognizing such a thing went far with Elizabeth. The first part of her vampire life had been far too serious due to a few factors, and her return from the realms had the woman also embracing that side of things upon her return to Harper Rock. There had been no choice. Caution was needed; she had never sired until these last handful of years and she needed to be; for lack of a better word, a ‘parental’ figure until they were able to understand the importance of so many things. All of them had learned what was needed; some went so far as to forge their own path and renege the sire bond for whatever reason they saw fit, and so, it was finally time for her to...relax in a sense. There were no more fledglings in her eyes; the youngest being just shy of two years now. While two years did not seem a lot, and wouldn’t have back in her early vampire years...things here were different. Powers were attained at an astronomical rate. Strengths in various forms as well. What she learned in five years, her childre learned in a month at most.

Her eyes went to study the woman, head canting slightly to the left as she watched Karla move around the diner. People watching had once been her thing...or perhaps, vampire watching was more apt. Her prolonged absence from the world in the past two and a half years perhaps made her rusty. The blonde nodded her head with Doc’s assessment of the young woman, before giving her thoughts on the matter. “When she came to take our order, she was wearing a necklace.” Elizabeth pondered over the meaning of the necklace, having been gifted something such as it some time ago by one of her own childre who had viewed Elizabeth in a more sentimental way than most her other childre.

“I believe your assessments are mostly correct. I believe this is not her only job. Her necklace was broken in half...yet complete. It said ‘daughter,’ which may explain her multiple jobs and unhappiness. Perhaps her mother is sick, or perhaps she is taking care of her poor financial decisions. Or perhaps she just adores her mother and it is from her own poor choices in which she is fated to work here as it offers flexibility to some degree for the other job, or jobs.” Elizabeth concluded with a soft shrug of her shoulders. “I agree that she could do better.” A final nod of her head was given, solidifying that statement.

Doc: Doc hadn’t noticed the necklace. He had noticed her shoes. He had noticed they were worn with little to no support. For a waitress who had to be on her feet everyday a good pair of shoes was important. He knew this firsthand as a surgeon. Standing in once place for hours, the wrong shoes could cause foot fatigue, which adds to the surgeon’s overall fatigue. When a patient was on the table, the last thing a surgeon needs is aching feet. Yet Karla wasn’t wearing supportive shoes. That meant she was probably new to waitressing as well. She had not learned the value of a good solid pair of shoes.

As Lizzie expounded on her own theory, he found it interesting that he thought about the practical outward side of things, and Lizzie went to the emotional side. Where he looked at the things that made up Karla’s job, her facial expressions, her shoes; Lizzie on the other hand, thought about the possible emotional undercurrents; all read from a necklace. It was fascinating what people keyed in on, when looking at things. Lizzie’s view was the same, and yet different. Neither of them, were to know who was right or wrong, unless they asked Karla, but he wasn't going to ask her. That would ruin the fun.

Doc flicked his gaze to the couple across from them and then back to Lizzie. He leaned forward and spoke softly, so he wouldn’t be overheard. “She is trying to figure out how to tell him, that she is pregnant. But he is trying to start a fight, so that she will break up with him, because he can’t man up and tell her, he doesn't care about her like she wants. What he doesn’t realize is that he is doomed. There will be no break up. He will marry her, and he will be stuck in a job he hates, supporting his wife, and ultimately three children. He will become a serial adulterer, and die of a heart attack at the age of 39. She will take part of his life insurance policy, get a boob job and tummy tuck, and marry his boss. By the time the kids are all ready for college, they will have forgotten him, and call the other man ‘Daddy’.”

Elizabeth: Her head angled towards the couple that Doc was describing, her eyes moving down towards the woman’s belly area, attempting to look for the ‘proof’ to Doc’s theory about the couple. Then her eyes went to their fingers, noticing the absence of rings, which could solidify the theory they were together, but yet...not. “Hmm.” Elizabeth stated, before giving her opinion on things, attention back on Doc. “Perhaps.” She said with a slow nod of her head, before lips parted.

“Or perhaps, given she is dressed in a position of authority; given the colour scheme and the fact that her clothing seems to imply business attire-while his is business casual, she received a promotion that he wished to have and she is about to break the news to him. In which, he will be upset, given he thought he was the better candidate than she, but since he does not seem to wish to dress to impress for the position, it speaks of his inability to be an authoritarian when it is needed for a higher ranking position.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug as Karla came and dropped off their ordered items. “Thank you, Karla. Your puzzle necklace is..quaint.” Elizabeth dipped her head in the woman’s direction, offering her a small smile. The waitress looked down at the necklace, as if she forgot which one she had on for the night, but before Elizabeth could see a reaction, her gaze moved to Doc. What was true, and what was not, was an enjoyable mystery. “We could save the poor sap, if one is feeling obliged and believe they are right.” A mischievous glow lit up her blue eyes as Elizabeth slid the pie in Doc’s direction, wondering if he dared take a bite...of whichever.

[Elizabeth]

Doc: Doc grinned at her, “Now where is the fun in that?” He picked up the fork, and toyed with it, poking and prodding at the pie. “I never said I was right.. I merely made up a story.” He scoped a portion of the pie up on the fork, stuck it in his mouth, and chewed slowly. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowed while he made an appreciative hum of approval at the taste. He held up his hand to stall the conversation. He chewed with his eyes still closed, nodding slowly as if the act of eating that piece of pie was a singularly orgasmic activity. Swallowing slowly, and savoring the taste, before finally opening his eyes and looking at her, “They are brother and sister. She is the oldest.”

“Their mother made the daughter promise to look after the little brother,.. always.” He slid a look at the male then back to Lizzie, “But he is in debt to the loan sharks from casinos… again. She has bailed him out .. time and time again. This time, she is saying no. He got himself into .. he can get himself out. But he is a whiner. And he is not interested in bailing himself out. He is playing the ‘mommy said you had to look after me’ card. But sis has gotten wise to the brother that has become a weight around her neck. She has just informed him, that she will look after him, if he survives his beat down.”

Doc took another bite of pie. Again he savored it. Truth of the matter was, it had no taste. It was the consistency paste with crunchy bits. It was abhorrent in the extreme. But Doc was not about to let Lizzie know how truly repugnant the act of eating and swallowing really was. At least, not here, not now. Perhaps when he was puking his guts up later, if she was still around, he might admit it. But for the moment, he acted as though it was the best thing he had ever eaten.


Elizabeth: Elizabeth watched Doc while he ate the pie, wondering how long it would be, before what went down, came back up. Hopefully, not here, nor on her. But, it would be a fair reciprocation, and she could not, nor would not be mad at Doc. Still, the woman did ‘owe’ him in a sense and it might very well be worth it.

The story he spun, seemed interesting enough, perhaps even plausible. Yet, there could be a plethora of scenarios between the two strangers across from them. “She is informing him that her husband has found out about their sordid love affair. He has threatened to kill him if she does not stop seeing him, and he...hardly finds it a threat. In fact, he looks as if he wishes for the husband to stop by some evening, so he could kick his...butt.” Her eyes narrowed a little bit, as she added a twist to the story…”But little does she know, she is not the only woman in his life. He is far more interested in the other, than her, but the thought of a good brawl cannot be passed up.” Her shoulders lifted into a small shrug, before her eyes dropped down to the pie. “Is the pie not to one’s liking? You have hardly touched it…” A small, but coy smile pulled upon the corners of her lips, as her bright blue eyes focused on Doc once again.

Doc: Doc guilelessly eyed Lizzie, knowing full well ‘what’ she was hoping to see happen. And if it took every ounce of will and determination he had, he would not let it happen… at least in front of her. “It is actually wonderful.” He took another bite, savored it once more, and scooped some up on the fork for her. Holding it out to her, “It’s really good.. Try it.. You did order it, after all.” His eyes twinkled because he knew she wouldn’t. Sliding his gaze to the couple, then back to Lizzie, wiggling the fork a bit at her, while adding, “He.. has just had gender reassignment surgery and wants her to understand. She loved ‘him’ when he was a she, but now.. Things are different, she isn’t so sure likes the new ‘him’. A sad irony, when would be looked down by society she felt they were a strong couple. Now that they resemble the ‘norm’, she is full of insecurities.” He winked at her, “Open the hangar..” He made little airplane noises, and moved the fork like a plane.

Elizabeth: A skeptical brow was raised when Doc claimed it to be ‘wonderful.’ Only because if something was ‘wonderful,’ in terms of food, it would have been mostly gone by now in her eyes. When he suggested she tried it-for a very valid reason, Elizabeth’s gaze dropped down to the piece that was offered to her. She made no move to take it from him, but did listen to the new story Doc was suggesting, eyes still on the piece of pie. Then, her lips twisted, before she laughed. Perhaps, somewhere in the world, such a story was happening, but she found herself skeptical, yet amused.

“She was a maid for a wealthy couple and has just procured thousands of dollars from their possessions she stole and sold. He, has a high moral and ethical conscious and cannot believe the woman whom he loves is so nefarious. He has just informed her that he will go to the police and no longer wants anything to do with her.” Elizabeth slowly nodded her head, leaned forward and claimed the piece of pie quickly. If Doc wished to be vomited upon again, that was his choice. “It tastes…” She said between bites, still not swallowing it down. “Horrendous.” It actually tasted like nothing, which therein laid the problem.

Doc: He actually liked her next scenario. He liked it more than he wanted to admit. He was about to look at the female again, when Lizzie did the last thing he expected, she ate the pie. His amused smile took on a daring knowing look. Lizzie was not one to play it safe. She was the epitome of a lady, but she wasn’t too good to try something new. And in doing so, she just one-upped him. Turning back to the pie with renewed interest, he took another good sized bite.

“I think you are correct, I think she has seen him for the weakling he is, and she is now plotting his ‘accidental’ demise.” Doc took another bite, chewed and swallowed, “He is desperately trying to get her to return the items. She knows she is past the point of return. He is her weak link. She is thinking .. if she does it just right.. He will take the blame, when it is discovered. Yes, she tells him, she will try to get the items back. But she is lying to him.” Doc ate the last bite. “She just needs time to set him up as the patsy. His time on this earth.. Is ticking down quickly.”

Elizabeth: While Doc talked, Elizabeth slowly worked on attempting to swallow the bite she took. The texture was gooey by now, almost pasty as Elizabeth held onto it for as long as possible, until she had no choice but to swallow it. There was a face that followed after it had been swallowed down, one of clear displeasure, her eyes dropping down to the water. Somewhat tempted, but not tempted enough to push her short lived luck. “This place is full of scandals.” Elizabeth said with a devious quirk of her lips and a raise of brows, as she leaned back into the booth. “And where are owners?” She twisted her neck just a little to glance around them, wondering if the two women and the owner were here tonight.

Doc: Doc carefully schooled his face not to react to the look of revulsion on Lizzie’s face as she swallowed. He pushed the empty plate to the side and rest his elbows on the table top. “Yummy huh?” He said before adding, “Yes.. the owner is here..” He nodded toward where the fry cook was busy cooking burgers. “He is right back there.” He watched him for a moment, “He is an unassuming sort. He is a good man. A sucker for a lady in distress.” Doc looked back at Lizzie, “Ex-wife 1, and 2. For what its worth, I don't think wife number 1 was on the take. Two ? Yea, she saw him coming, took him for what she could get out of him.”

Doc scanned the rest of the dinner, “The exs’ aren't here. Hopefully they have moved on,.. For his sake.” He watched the diner and its inhabitants for another few moments, before finally grinning at Lizzie. “When I was in University.. I spent a lot of time in places like this. Real people, real lives. It helped keep things in perspective for me.”

Elizabeth: “Delicious. Truly.” Elizabeth said as she glanced back at Doc evenly. Both of them knew that she could not drink, let alone eat any food, but here they were again. Doc had consumed more food than she had, so the woman could only hope that he would be the first to regret the decision.

Her eyes found the owner of the place, as she listened to what Doc had to say about him and his ex's. It was a sad turn of events, but it seemed not uncommon. Today was much the same as any other century that past by. There were some who sought to raise their rank, or life style at whatever the cost to the other person.

“Things?” Elizabeth asked, moving past the irrelevant for now, and focusing on him. Her head tipped slowly, wondering what it was Doc needed to keep in perspective, as Elizabeth's fingers upon her right hand played with the fabric of the dress, slowly starting to regret her choice to indulge in the pie.

Doc: “Oh you know.. How … things… should be; but aren’t. Things that I needed to recognize, understand, and prioritize.” He cleared his throat into his fist. It was him really counting and attempting to ease his roiling stomach. “I had a ******* crap family. Dysfunctional was a mild definition of the decayed, defective, sickness that was my family.” He looked past Lizzie’s shoulder, as if lost in thought. He was really trying to calm his digestive organs that were rebelling against the solid matter that should have been liquid.

“I have always been the loner type. The type they warn people about. I am a classic text book definition of a sociopath.” He looked at her and gave her a crooked smirk, “I learned at an early age, that it was kill or be killed; and I was not going to be a victim. But it was not until University that I realized .. not all families are as fucked up as mine.”

He looked down at the table top, “My family played the game.. ‘Let's look normal for the neighborhood’. I had just presumed everyone’s family did likewise. They all had the ‘real family attitudes’ .. the and ‘look good family’ thing going on. But in University, my freshman year roommate, his family genuinely cared about him. And he did not appreciate it. He wanted to cut ties with them. He felt they were too clingy.” Doc laughed a bit, “He wanted to distance himself from people that ‘cared’. He had no idea what he had. He would prove to disappoint them.”

Elizabeth: A small frown crossed her features when Doc cleared his throat, but it melded into a straight faced look when he started talking. Not being knowledgeable on what the ‘textbook’ definition of a sociopath was, the woman allowed her mind to roam for a few seconds to attain that definition. She nodded her head, relating loosely to how he may have felt growing up with a ‘different’ family background. Her family too was well versed in portraying an untrue image. Still, as Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement, there were other things going on within her mind as she shifted her position on the bench.

Only when he was done talking, did she speak what was upon her mind. “The internet does not say kind things about sociopaths…” Elizabeth trailed off as her hand smoothed over the fabric that rest upon her right thigh area. It was repeated again, before Elizabeth spoke again. “They say those categorized as such do not have friends and are extremely self interested. Among other things.” Elizabeth said softly, before she slid to the edge of her booth. “I have to use the ladies room.” Elizabeth stood then, took a step back as her eyes looked for the sign indicating where those could be found, before blue eyes looked at Doc. “I appreciate your honesty thus far in our conversations and encounters, Charles.” Elizabeth moved forward, realizing the bathroom was behind him and no where near the side in which she sat. When she stood besides him, she stopped and placed a hand upon his shoulder. “I can accept that one is self interested to an extreme, but I think it is only fair to discuss what our time together is doing for said interest. Perhaps when I return?” She suggested, before removing her hand and taking another step. “If one does not wish to discuss such a thing for whatever reason, I will gladly pay the bill when I return.” Elizabeth dipped her head cordially while she continued to the bathroom.