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[Meara]

WEARING

Meara had arrived at the park just a little after dusk, taking care to arrive early so she could investigate the event grounds. A delighted smile appeared on her pink painted lips as she moved towards the tents to take in the sights and sounds. The musician in her noticed the music first, leading her to hum along as she walked past the carnival rides. She wasn't so sure about the rides, but she was much more enthusiastic about the prospect of ice skating. It was easily her favorite of the winter sports, likely because of the semblance it bore to dancing. Before she would investigate further, Meara made a beeline to the bar.

Normally, meeting new people was quite enjoyable for the redhead. Tonight, however she was feeling a bit anxious and in need of liquid courage. She hadn't dated since she left Asheville nearly 2 years ago, and it was sort of daunting to get herself back into the proverbial mix. The idealistic woman had a soft spot in her heart for the holiday of love, so it didn't take a ton of convincing by Rhapsody to get Meara downloading the app on her phone so she could complete her profile.

The petite woman sidled up to the bar and flashed the bartender a warm smile. "Sauv blanc, please." The man nodded as he moved to pour her a glass of wine, then slid it across the bar. Right as she went to take her first sip, the phone in her right jacket pocket started to buzz. Slender fingers reached into the pocket of her silver coat to retrieve her smart phone. A press of her thumb to the pad, and the notification popped up on the screen. She had a match waiting. Meara eyed her phone curiously as she opened the message and viewed the profile of the other person. Blue eyes studied it for a few moments before she pressed on the little send text icon and typed out a quick message, then hit send. After her phone was safely stowed away, Meara took a nervous sip of her wine as she leaned her elbows back on the counter and started to study the crowd for her date.

[t] Hi there! It seems we've been matched up for this little soiree. I'm over by the bar. Silver jacket. Looking forward to it. -Mea

[Valdimar (DELETED 10176)]

WEARING

The city was still brand new. Valdimar hadn’t been walking the streets long enough to call it even vaguely familiar; sometimes he still felt like he was on holiday, though he had since come to terms with the fact that his holiday was over, and for a long while at least, Harper Rock would be home. The Icelander didn’t know how to feel about it, yet. His body no longer felt fatigue and there was raw energy pumping through his system that was completely alien to him. It had jagged edges and spoke to him of blood and violence, despite the fact he’d never been a violent kind of guy. Though the concept of ‘paths’ had been explained to him, he was still struggling to understand why ‘Killer’ had become his, though in the end he guess it was because he was his father’s son, and in business one had to be cutthroat to make a golden dime.

Valdimar was not the typical ‘rich boy’. He could have lived off a trust fund, could have partied every weekend—and every weeknight—if he’d wanted to. But he’d always been a serious kind of boy, and though he did know how to have fun he did not do so frivolously or bawdily. He respected money; he knew its worth. And he knew that in a split second, it could all be gone. If his father had ever decided to cut him off, Valdimar would be left with nothing. So he was making his own name, and his own way.

Part of making his own way was getting to know people. In Reykjavik, he had a ‘crew’. He had close friends and dozens of acquaintances. In Harper Rock, he had a limited set of acquaintances and it was events like these that would help him to broaden the pool. Although he was accustomed to apps like Tinder and Happn, he’d only stumbled across Perfect Match when they’d promoted this shindig. Though Valdimar wasn’t looking for anything serious, this would be a good way to meet new people.

The phone vibrated in his grasp; he’d been matched. He arched a brow, and was peering at the woman’s profile when the message came through. Valdimar was already at the bar, and all he had to do was look up. He had a mug of blood in hand which, in and of itself, seemed strange to him. Foreign. Just like this city, and his transformed body. He slipped away from the high table he’d been occupying and perused the bar, before he found her. Silver jacket.

He slipped in beside Meara, a little self-conscious of the blood and keeping it at a distance.

“Valdimar Svensson,” he said, offering a cold hand in greeting. He didn’t need to give his name, of course, but it only seemed proper to do so. “Do you believe in this… algorithm these sites use or do you think it’s all just random…?” he asked. Tinder, at least, was purely chemical (right?). Perfect Match claimed to be scientific, and he wasn’t too sure he was buying it…

[Valdimar (DELETED 10176)]

MEARA
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Meara's attention was drawn up from her glass of wine at the sound of a foreign voice introducing themselves. With the name of her match. The first thing she noticed was how striking his facial structure was. It looked like pure marble. And his accent, which sounded quite lovely to her ears.

"I think it's both random and computer learned probably." She mused as she stuck out her hand to grasp his. "Meara Quartermaine. It's a pleasure." She saw the blood in hand and was relieved that this was not a paladin.


VALDIMAR
_____________________
Valdimar couldn't tell if the woman was a vampire or not; he'd not yet grown accustomed to his senses, and the fact that she was drinking wine... well. He tried not to think about it. Did it matter? The bar sold blood so this was clearly an event that catered to both vampires and humans. He was aware of the rocky relationship between the two species, but no one was coming out of the shadows brandishing pitchforks and torches. He smiled, and told himself to just relax. This was nothing new. He was just a person, meeting other people. He'd done it a thousand times before.

"I'd ask if I could buy you a drink, but it looks like you've already got that taken care of," he said, nodding to the wine. He slid onto a stool and made himself more comfortable. "Do you consider yourself a wine connoisseur or do you just like a glass every now and again...?"


MEARA
____________________
"I like it a lot more than beer, but I usually stick to fruity and sweet." She took a seat on the stool, hooking her stilettos over the little foot rail. "Or I do what you do there." She gestured to the mug.

"You lived here awhile or still getting the hang of the place?" She asked with a small smile.


VALDIMAR
_____________________
The mug was still at a distance, but as Meara pointed it out and suggested that she, too, was a vampire, Valdimar brought it closer. At least that ice was broken. He laughed, more at his own reticence than anything else. "You are lucky, that you can consume both," he said. He'd been told a lot upon siring and there was still a lot he needed to learn. But he did know that consumption of anything other than blood often led to violent illness. "It has been... two weeks," he said. They were celebrating Valentine's Day -- he'd been set to meet Azraeth on the first of February. Two weeks. "An interesting two weeks. What about you?"


MEARA
____________________
"I've been here like 18 months? I still feel really new sometimes though. I suppose you could say that's why I came to this event. Meet people and try something different." She offered an cheery smile.

But now to delve a little deeper to see if they had anything in common. "Did you end up here for work? Or drawn by the rumours about the place?"


VALDIMAR
_____________________
"Work...kind of," he said. "I am in hotels. There was a conference and I thought that I would kill two birds with one stone, as they say. My hobby is ancient artefacts and ... I guess I had one that was of some importance. It did not end well," he said with a chuckle. It was vague enough. End well for who? Valdimar's distrust of Azraeth had been unfounded and, whether or not he decided he liked this whole 'vampire' gig, he knew that his sire was not to blame. "The rumours... I am not sure that I believed them, before I arrived. It's all a bit... crazy, huh?"


MEARA
____________________
"I heard about it all while I was working in Toronto. And since a lot of people we're traveling there, I followed the crowd. I go where the people are - I'm a street musician." She offered a grin. "Historical artefacts sound really cool though. What era do you like best."


VALDIMAR
_____________________
Valdimar arched a brow. He wasn't sure he'd ever met a street musician and he wasn't really sure what that entailed. Though he was curious to find out more. "I don't really have a favourite," he said with a shrug. It wasn't as if he could do anything with any of the relics he owned. Their history was interesting, however. "I suppose... it's the weapons I like best. I have some from the viking age, and the first settlers who came to Iceland. There was more honour in war back then," he mused. "What... exactly does a street musician do? Is it as simple as it sounds?"


MEARA
____________________
"Often times we're called buskers." She started before polishing off her wine and setting it on the counter. "I play the violin, and people stop and listen. And if they like it they toss money in my case. I also give music lessons and do regular gigs too, but the open air performances are my favorite." Her excitement from talking about what she loved to do to an interesting party was easily apparent.


VALDIMAR
_____________________
"Ah," he nodded. It was exactly as he had assumed, then. And Meara answered his next question before he had a chance to ask it. "Is violin your only instrument or do you dabble?" he asked. He gestured for the bartender, then, and nodded to Meara's glass -- suggesting that it be refilled, and that Valdimar would pay for the replacement. "I'm afraid I do not have a musical bone in my body..."


MEARA
____________________
She watched as the bartender refilled her glass, causing her to nod her head in thanks. "I play piano as well, and I've dabbled in percussion. " She couldnt help but chuckle as the man's assurance of his lack of musicality. "Well do you have rhythm?"


VALDIMAR
_____________________
Valdimar had forgotten about his mug of blood, and now that he looked at it he was put off. The temperature had been leeched from it, and a layer of congealed blood had started to form on top. He pushed the mug aside and didn't order another, happy to get drunk on conversation instead. He smiled. "Are you asking whether I can dance...?" he asked, head tilting toward the music, to where there were couples dancing, and the ice rink beyond.

[Meara]

MEARA
____________________
"I am - thats my other passion in performance. I actually dance while I play." She followed his eyes out towards the dance floor. "They say its my unique sell in the marketing world." Another drink of wine was taken, seemingly curious to see if he had interest in either of those.


VALDIMAR
_____________________
"You dance while you play?" Valdimar asked, clearly impressed. "I'll have to come watch you one day," he said. And then realised he hadn't actually answered Meara's question. "Dancing, I'm not too bad at. I'm not an expert, by any means. But I can hold my own on a dance floor," he said. He certainly had no qualms, regardless.

MEARA
____________________
"Do you want to then?" She inquired curious. She could tell a lot about a guy based on how they danced. He already won points for suggesting it.


VALDIMAR
_____________________
"Mmm," Valdimar pondered. He wasn't looking at the couples dancing, but instead at the ice rink beyond. "I think I'd prefer to skate," he said, turning back to his 'date'. One thing he liked about Canada, at least, was that its Winter was similar to the Winter from home. Not as dark, of course, but it was as cold. Valdimar had been ice-skating since he'd learned to walk; and one could dance while skating. There was just more grace involved. One felt like a God more than a mere mortal.


MEARA
____________________
A huge grin erupted on her face as she hopped down off the stool and finished her wine off, leaving the glass behind. "I've had my eye on that all night. Its my favorite witner sport." A soft giggle was heard as she grabbed his hand and started off that way.


VALDIMAR
_____________________
Suddenly, Meara was off. One second she was sitting sedately in front of him and the next, she was pulling him through the crowd. He had only just enough time to reach back and grab the jacket he'd left at the bar. He was much taller than she was -- and was told he'd only get taller still. To think, that one had assumed their growing was done, only to be told that every now and again a new foot would be gained. Would it ever stop, or would he become some kind of giant? Out in the weather, Valdimar looked for the shack that would hire them some blades. He let go of Meara's hand so he could pull on the jacket he didn't really need, but which he wore anyway for the sake of fitting in. "What size shoe are you?" he asked Meara as they approached the counter.


MEARA
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"A six." She replied as she glanced up at the man. Wow he was tall. She hoped he didnt mind her over-eagerness, she was thinking this would be a lot of fun. "Have you skated a lot?"


VALDIMAR
_____________________
A six. Compared to Valdimar's ten-and-a-half. She really was tiny. "Yes," he said after asking for the blades and paying the rental price without batting an eye. Valdimar was traditional that way -- unless a woman protested overly much, he thought it was his duty to pay for anything and everything when on a date. Sometimes they protested because they were being coy. Sometimes, because they were feminists who would have otherwise got angry if he didn't let them pay their own way. He'd grown used to telling the two apart. "My father's house was on the lake. I am very adept," he said, handing Meara the smaller pair of blades and leading her to a bench so that they could put them on.


MEARA
____________________
Meara followed along to the bench, listening closely. Maybe American guys had lost their touch in comparison, but these Europeans seemed to focus on the details of how to impress women. She certainly was impressed with his taking the lead on paying for her. She thought that thing was kinda cute. "A whole lake to your self, wow thats cool. Where are you from?" She asked curious of where his accent was from. She peeled her stilettos off her feet and put the pair of socks on before putting her feet into the white figure skates.


VALDIMAR
_____________________
The shoes that Valdimar shed were Louis Vuitton, black, crocodile leather. That Valdimar should wear such shoes when there was a chance he'd be trudging through snow was testament to the kind of money he had to spend. The shoes were put aside and the skates pulled on, deft fingers dealing with the laces. "I am from Iceland," he said. "I am no stranger to ice," he smiled. Both his and Meara's shoes were collected and put aside with a tag, the number for which Valdimar slipped into his pocket. He stepped back onto the ice and held out his hand for Meara. "Shall we?"


MEARA
____________________
Meara had never met anyone from Iceland before. Maybe that explained why the man enjoyed Viking weapons. A throwback to his homeland. She smiled as she reached out and took his hand to carefully step out onto the ice. Meara wobbled for the briefest second, but quickly righted herself and flashed the man a sly smile. "I didn't see an ice rink until I was like 10." She mused with a small smile before pushing off to skate with the flow of traffic, still holding his hand so she didn't get separated.


VALDIMAR
_____________________
It took a good half minute for the two to settle into a rhythm, Valdimar's fingers tight aroung Meara's hand as their bodies tried to separate, their blades trying to go in different directions. Soon they moved in synch; the music swelled around them, the laughter and frivolity of other skaters and dancers joining the cacophony. He lifted Meara's hand, encourging her spin beneath his arm. The crisp air clung to his skin. "Ten is a good age," he said. "There is still plenty of time to learn from ten," he said.

[Meara]

And spin she would.

Meara giggled as she turned a few revolutions as she passed under the much taller man's arm, free arm automatically assuming the posture of a ballerina in pirouette. As she spun away, Meara let go of his hand so she could fall into stride again after looping back. "We only get about three months of cold where I come from. So all of my skating was indoors. It doesn't have the same allure as this. You could say its more magical outside." She offered with a smile. "You been watching the Olympics? I think the ice dancing is my favorite event."

[Valdimar (DELETED 10176)]

Iceskating, for Valdimar, was like riding a bike. It was muscle memory from years of practice as s kid; he couldn't even remember a time when he was training, though he did remember a few times he'd slipped and cracked his bones on the hard ice. There was even the one time he'd gone too far too late in the season and he'd never forget the neat, deep twang as the ice cracked and he'd fallen through. His twelve-year-old mind was certain that he was going to die, he was going to drown, he was going to be trapped beneath the ice.

But help had come and he'd been hauled out; they warmed him by a roaring fire and, though he had a snotty nose for a week he'd been perfectly fine. He'd fallen through the ice and survived. Then he became fearless.

This skating rink wasn't on the lake so there was no chance for the ice to crack or for either of them to fall through. Each stride was confident and sure, like he'd been born on skates and walking was what was second nature. "I have not had much of a chance to watch, no," he said. He'd been neck-deep in vampire lore for the less-than-two-weeks he'd been here. He'd not had the time to indulge in sports. "You have trained as a dancer, then? Not just as a musician?"

[Meara]

"When I was growing up, my parents gave me the choice between violin and ballet lessons. Meara started as she veered in closer to Valdimar and curled her arm around his. This way she could stay close so they could talk and not yell over the crowd.

In her mind's eye, she could see her 12 year old self pouting at her father as he explained that their teacher salaries couldn't pay for both. Her blue eyes looked up at her companion for the first evening giving a small smile. "I chose violin, so I am a self taught dancer. Though I am saving my pennies to start studying professionally." A pause was given as she formulated a question.

"Do you have any hobbies you enjoy when not doing artefact hunting?"

[Valdimar (DELETED 10176)]

Hobbies. What hobbies did Valdimar have that did not include artefact hunting? Well, that was his main hobby, to be sure; his work was in hotels, in the economics and politics, the architecture and the particularities that went into building something worthy of five stars and accolades. What did he do in his spare time, other than research and read? A broad smile reached his lips, the ice easily sliding away beneath his feet.

"I knit," he said. Yeah, he hit the gym, too. He liked swimming, best, and his broad shoulders attested the man's strength in the water. He liked to keep fit, he liked his body to be at its best at all times, health paramount. But even then, he still had hours in front of a fire. He still had time before sleep. And he was confident enough in himself that he could admit to it, this hobby that most reserved for old women.

"It's mindless and soothing," he said with a shrug. "Is there any particular place you want to go to learn to dance? Is it ballet, specifically, you want to save for?" he asked.

[Meara]

A slight look of amazement appeared on her features as Valdimar revealed that he was an avid knitter. Her grandmother had tried to teach Meara when she stayed on her farm one summer, but she didn't have the patience for it. Meara, then and now, always needed to be constantly moving because she was a ball of energy. In fact that's why she started dancing while she was playing. The music would entice her to move. So she made her own unique style out of it.

She had concluded that her skating companion was much more then the chiseled statue exterior. But her inner musings ceased as she heard his question of her.Where and what kind of dance did she want to study? Now that was a good pair of questions. "Ballet, particularly ballet en pointe, is what has held me captive for years. I would likely start at a small studio here in town, but it would be cool to go back to New Your or even St. Petersburg to study. I've done a little travelling, and someday I'd like to do more." She paused a moment as an idea came to mind as t a possible trip. "Some of my compositions I've written are inspired by my Irish roots, so it could be fun to head to Dublin and take up step dancing!" Meara explained excitedly, thinking of over of her favorite pieces she had written.

[Valdimar (DELETED 10176)]

Valdimar chuckled at Meara’s excitement; it was a foreign concept to him, to show such outward excitement about things, even if he was passionate about them. People often thought he was disinterested, when honestly he just didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeves. It wasn’t something he did on purpose or for any particular reason. There was no cause for it. It was just how he had developed. Cool and steely, a psychologist might blame his father. Everything always came back to the father.

”That sounds like a plan,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He’d felt his phone buzz and, knowing that it was part of the event that they would be paired with numerous people and asked to move on, he retrieved the device to check.

As suspected, it was a message to say he’d been matched with another. Before clicking the link to see who it was, he spun Meara one more time. ”I think our time is up. Have you a message?” he asked. It wouldn’t feel right to abandon Meara to the ice if she was not moving on, too. ”I will give you my number. You will let me know when you are performing, yes? I would like to see,” he said.