Roleplay City
Infusco => INFUSCO: Enter The Shadows => Qamar Art Gallery => Topic started by: skeggsismad on August 11, 2012, 01:13:27 PM
-
“Oh! The countless times I’ve gotten lost here! I have quite the stories, darling, I really do. I’ve been here at least a dozen times and not been able to find the way out. Why, it’s as if they rebuild each and every visit. Certainly everything is rearranged and new pieces introduced- I don’t think I’ve ever seen the same piece twice,”
Emil’s voice echoed through the museum as they entered. At this hour there were few occupants, though it would be stretching it to say they were the only people in the building. Someone was somewhere deep within the thicket of this maze- Emil could sense it. He hadn’t stopped chattering since they’d left the coffeehouse, but thankfully the walk hadn’t been longer than ten minutes.
As they entered the first exhibit room, Emil let go of Bill’s arm and looked to the only piece of artwork that was huddled near, but not quite, in the center of the room.
Instead of being anything particularly ‘artsy’ in appearance, it was a mere podium with a set of expensive looking over-the-ear headphones. A sign beside it read,
Earthworm In Wet Grass
Jaqueline Stambough
Instructions: Put the headsets over your ears. Press the red button and listen.
He looked at it excitedly.
“This is one of those interactive pieces!” Eagerly the vampire neared it, ready to dive in. But he hesitated, deciding that since Bill had never been to an art museum he deserved to have the first shot.
“Go on ahead!” He said, gesturing at the headsets and waiting to see Bill’s reaction.
-
Bill was enjoying himself immensely, art or no art. Emil was entertaining and funny, something that he basked in as they walked, allowing the other to ramble as much as he wanted. He throughly enjoyed Emil's company, especially since he didn't socialize with many people anymore. And Emil was willing to help him find Thomas! That was the important part.
"Do they have old stuff, too?" he asked as they approached the piece.
He was surprised that it was the only thing in the room…he had heard of using space, but he couldn't imagine why there wouldn't be at least one other exhibit in the room. And the fact that it was a pair of headphones…why, he had never heard of an interactive exhibit before. He had always thought that people came to the museum to look at old paintings. He supposed he had a lot to learn.
"Thanks," he chirped, lifting the headphones and settling them over his ears.
He pressed the red button, his face scrunching up at the cacophony of noise that suddenly assaulted his ears. He managed to school his face to look more impassive and less like a…well, he managed to stop making the face, at least. He supposed some would call this art, but to be honest…he really wasn't much for modern art.
He listened to the entire minute-long clip, though, before sliding off the headphones and holding them out to Emil. A sheepish smile adorned his face.
"It's not really my style…too modern, I think. It reminds me of Stompers, though. I think that's what they're called. It's this band of people that go around touring and they make music with broomsticks and whatever else they have on them," he explained, trying to hide the fact that he really wasn't a fan of the music by mentioning something else entirely.
He wasn't sure Emil would let him deviate from the conversation like that, though…the vampire seemed to be able to pick up on small things that most people wouldn't notice about him, like his complete lack of money. Emil had paid for everything so far, after all. Surely he wouldn't be so generous if he thought that Bill could pay for himself.
-
“Oh no, it’s mostly local artists’ work,” Emil managed to throw in before the boy slipped on the headsets.
With his impeccable hearing, he was able to listen as crisp and clearly as Bill. The sounds that came from the headphones as well made him feel inclined to scrunch up his face, but he kept a blank one, for he didn’t want to offend anyone. Perhaps the sort of art that Bill was interested in was the abstract gear-grinding sound type!
When the boy took the headset off, however, it was clear that wasn’t the case. It was adorable the way Bill so politely declined the piece of art that Emil couldn’t possibly stop himself; he was giggling again. It seemed, for some particular reason, this mortal gave him the fits.
“Oh, that was a tad…awful,” Emil spoke under his breath as he smiled at Bill, patting the mortal on the back.
“I won’t deny it being art, of course, but some things are much too out there for me to understand!”
-
Seeing that Emil had no intention of putting the headphones on, Bill replaced them, giggling himself at Emil's comment. He was glad that he hadn't offended the vampire or anything when he didn't like the music. It had been fairly awful, especially with no way to control the volume or how it had blared in his ears. Thomas was the one that appreciated loud music, not him. He didn't like anything loud, really.
"I have to agree," he smiled at Emil, happy for the small gesture of affection. He wanted so badly to hang off of the other's arm, but he didn't want to ruin the suit that the other was wearing…it was very nice, after all. In fact, it made him feel a bit underdressed, to be completely honest.
"I really prefer to look at it than to…interact," he explained, basing his opinion completely on the one piece he had seen so far. Or heard, in this case. He really didn't want to listen to another selection, especially if it was as loud as this one.
"I think. You've been here before, right? What are your favorite pieces?"
-
Emil shook his head no and then realized that Bill’s inquiry had been a two part question and a nonverbal response was certainly going to communicate the wrong idea.
“Oh, yes, of I’ve been here before. But they never have the same each time I’ve attended- or at least, I believe that to be the case. Actually, I’ve never seen them all. It’s treacherous, really; Often I’m so tangled up in the artwork that I never remember which way I came and it can take hours to find my way back to the exit!” He let out an embarrassed chuckle, shaking his head in self-mockery.
“Speaking of which, we’ve got a decision to make to continue our great artistic adventure!” Emil proclaimed, shifting so that he was more towards the center of the room. He gestured an arm to the left and the other to the right, both pointing towards archways leading to other display rooms.
“I’d be delighted if you’d pick which direction we peruse next; for perhaps you may have better luck than I do and when the time has come, you may remember which doors to choose to get back to this room!”
The statement was followed by yet another chuckle.
-
Bill was reminded of a maze as he looked at each doorway, trying to think of a good way to go about this. If they only made right turns, then it would be much easier to find their way out, as well. He smiled at Emil as he nodded towards the right hand doorway.
"How about just taking right turns?" he asked, smiling at the other. He wasn't sure how big this place was, but it must have been fairly big, if even Emil hadn't seen everything here.
The purpose of the question had been more to get a feel for what sort of art Emil liked, but he had a feeling that since Emil was such a 'jack of all arts', then perhaps he liked a great variety of art, too. Bill hadn't had as much exposure to any sort of art to know what he liked for sure, but he knew that whatever sound that had been was definitely out.
He slipped his hand into Emil's, tugging him gently towards the right doorway. The next room featured one painting on each wall, each with neon paint (http://cdn.buzznet.com/assets/users16/ladonnadrew/default/neon-painting--large-msg-132820787345.jpg). These were much more to his liking, he found, as he stood in front of the first one, hand still linked with Emil's.
He hoped the vampire didn't mind, he really didn't. It was hard for him to get a feel as to what, exactly, was okay with this vampire and what wasn't. Sometimes he felt as though he could crawl into Emil's lap and all would be fine, yet others he was terrified of overstepping his bounds. What if he did something the other didn't like, and Emil simply went with it and didn't let Bill know? Then where would he be?
He wanted little touches like this so badly, though…and Emil did say that they were friends…friends held hands, didn't they? Was it too clingy, though? Thomas had said before that Bill was being too clingy, was he being too clingy now? But it felt so awkward, just walking through the place, not touching, barely speaking. He needed something.
"I like this a lot better," he commented, smiling shyly at the vampire. "It's so colorful and pretty…I'm afraid I don't know any of the artistic terms, though."
-
“Mmm, clever boy!” Emil remarked at the right-turn-only suggestion. He didn’t think much of it when Bill went to hold his hand- for Emil, such gestures were casual rather than particularly intimate. He loved touching others and could be overly touchy at times. The warmth of Bill’s palm and the steady heartbeat of his wrist was oh-so-relaxing.
He was led to a painting of a gorgeous woman who was brightly painted in hues of red, green, blue and pink. Emil tilted his head to the side to examine it. He’d never been one to paint but he could enjoy other people’s works nonetheless.
“Yes, do you mean…oh, what are the words, they’re just on the tip of my tongue,” He said, making a bit of a thinking face and searching for what wouldn’t come to his mind.
“Do you mean….texture, form, space, value, size….that sort, darling? Ohh, they are rather difficult to recall and such and I’m sure once you know them it’s dandy to be able to apply it to the artwork you see. Now I don’t know the form of this painting at all, but I can say that the colors just take me over, doesn’t it seem? I’m absolutely in love with colors. Black and grey may be fashionable at times but it’s so bland. Color is the mood.”
He went on a long monologue once more and then shook his head. Honestly he was more interested in getting to know Bill more than he was at looking at the artwork. It was beautiful, but people always gained his attention first. He loved a good conversation better than the world’s best ballet.
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are, Bill?” He’d been rather curious about it for a while now. From appearance the boy looked like a teenager- he wondered if that’s why Bill hadn’t been drinking anything at the club, why he was ‘clean’ was because he was underaged.
-
Bill smiled at the compliment, going back to look at the painting s he listening to the vampire's monologue. He was learning so much already, just from sticking around Emil. The jack of fine arts had so much expertise, and it seemed that, at least for the time being, he was willing to share that with Bill. It was almost like being in school again…and he didn't mind in the slightest.
"Yes, that's it," he agreed, clutching the man's hand as he meandered over to the next painting, again with bright fluorescent colors.
Black and grey were indeed fashionable, classic. They even had their place in art, especially where charcoal was concerned. But as far as museums went…he really did like the color. No one painted in neon colors, it seemed, at least while he had been in his art class. Perhaps that was for the more advanced, aspiring artists, he thought to himself.
Bill looked up at the topic changed, giving Emil a smile. It was touching, how the vampire even cared to ask how old he was. Of course, he supposed it was just because he wanted to make sure the human wasn't just some kid trying to play in the big leagues, if that made sense. Andi had been sneaking into clubs and offering himself for a feeding since he was seventeen, and Bill had a feeling that it wasn't a singular event, either.
"Nineteen," he answered simply, as if that was all that Emil needed to know. After a moment, though, he continued on, figuring that the vampire would want a bit more background than just a simple age, if he had bothered to ask.
"I live with my dad," Bill explained, giving a small shrug as he let go of the vampire's hand. "Thomas is a year older than me. We both lived with him 'til…'til he disappeared. Now it's just me."
In most cases, he knew, the father was the one that would typically take care of the children…but it hadn't been that way in a long, long time. The year Thomas had gotten his first job, at sixteen, marked the return of stability in their lives, and it hadn't been long before his brother had become more reliable than their own father at taking care of his younger brother.
-
Emil gave a nod; it was both an acknowledgement and with a undertone of grief to it. The more time he spent with Bill the more glad he was he’d spontaneously offered to help him so soon. It was clear the boy needed his brother in some sort of form. Emil had no idea how things would turn out, whether they’d fine the brother or not and if it did if it would be a pleasant reunion, but what he did know was that Bill needed closure.
“Well, sweet pea, I’m sure you’d like to know my age now! Isn’t that the way things go? Oooh but first, I want to know what you think. Don’t be shy. I won’t be mad at all!” He gave a mischievous smirk to the boy. He mainly was trying to shift his own mood and make things light and playful again. Emil was well aware that thoughts tended to carry certain ‘feels’ to them on the outside and as long as he was thinking negatively, Bill might ‘feel’ the negativity.
Too, he wondered in the back of his mind what had happened to Bill’s mother. Had he never had a mother? Had the mother left? Worst of all, was she deceased? The possibilities kept him from asking and he was sure in time if Bill trusted him enough such a thing would be revealed. There was a huge difference in intimacy level between asking someone their age and asking about someone’s mother if they’d glossed over that part of their life.
-
Don’t be shy? But Bill was the epitome of shy! True to his nature, the mere thought of telling the vampire what he really thought was causing him to flush madly. What if he guessed way too old? What if he didn’t guess old enough? Did vampires pride themselves on living so long or were they as vain as humans, wanting to look younger than they were?
“Um,” he started, biting at his lip thoughtfully as he tried to not think of his brother and his living situation for once. “I um…kinda thought the 1500s, maybe? ‘Cause you like art so much and there was so much art during that period. I don’t want to offend you or anything,” he rapidly blurted out, knowing that if he didn’t get it out, he would spend all night just trying to find a polite way to say that he didn’t really know.
He hadn’t really thought about it, either. Well, he had a little, but he had already made up his mind that Emil was that old, so much so that it was almost fact in his mind. He certainly hadn’t known any vampire to offer up their age as Emil had, but then Emil did a lot of things other vampires didn’t, he had noticed.
“I always thought it was rude to ask a vampire how old he is,” Bill admitted, tugging a lock of his own hair nervously.
-
Emil let out a dramatic, offended gasp as he thrust his hand at his chest and widened his eyes.
“You think I look that old, darling!” He exclaimed, holding the emotion for a moment before easing the tension and letting out a chuckle. He rolled his eyes to indicate he’d been joking and rubbing his hand up and down Bill’s back, giving him a good pat before stopping.
“Mmm, no, I’m only pulling your leg, sweetie. But I must say! You have great etiquette.”
Indeed, he wondered if someone had trained Bill how to behave in the vampire community. It seemed the boy didn’t have a ton of knowledge about the community but he had picked up a few ‘rules’. Had he taught himself what was a good idea and bad idea based on experience alone? Emil wondered, even, if he was looking on further guidance on how to interact with the supernatural community. Not wanting to mislead the boy, he added,
“You’re quite right though, Bill. It’s not proper to ask questions like that. How we communicate is utterly different from the standards- does that make sense, pumpkin? I’m not like the others and it’s likely not wise to treat others the way you and I converse,” He advised, without saying the word ‘vampire’ or letting on to his true nature, considering that they were indeed still in a public place.
“But,” He said lowering his voice, “I was born in 1804 in Warsaw, Poland! So how old does that make me, exactly? Oh, I always say something around two hundred, but I’ve never been particularly good at doing the exact math.”
Truthfully keeping track of his age made him feel a bit old.
-
Bill's eyes widened, afraid that he truly had offended the vampire by accident. The hand on his back soothed him, though, letting him know that he hadn't entirely made a faux pax. He really had overestimated, but he personally thought that it was a pretty good estimate, considering what little he knew about Emil.
"Thank you…and I know," he smiled softly, relaxing a bit. "Andi told me to treat all of you like royalty, so that's what I try to do. He's the one that actually introduced me to everything to help me found my brother."
He hadn't brought up his accomplice before, because he honestly had a hard time seeing Andi as such anymore. At first the other human had helped immensely, introducing Bill to places like Risk and explaining the ground rules for him, even introducing him to a few vampires and making sure he wasn't too traumatized after his first feeding.
Now, though, it seemed as though his brother's friend had practically abandoned him in favor of being the vampire groupie he had always wanted to be. And as much as Bill appreciated the help, he wasn't about to fall into a life of feeding vampires for fun. He would find his brother, and then they would figure things out from there. But he would find Thomas, one way or another.
"Poland?" he echoed, trying to think of what he knew about Poland in the eighteen hundreds. The answer to that, naturally, was nothing at all. All he knew for sure was that Emil was almost as old as the Constitution, and definitely not as old as Shakespeare.
"I don't really know much about Poland," he admitted, fiddling with the edge of his shirt. "I never really got into the history part of art history…or the art part, for that matter. That's by Germany…right?"
-
Emil nodded his head at the query.
“It is next to Germany! Though I must say that the city I lived in, Warsaw, is closer to Belarus and Ukraine than it is to Germany. That’s the other side of the country.” He gave the boy a wink and then linked his arm into the mortals, deciding to guide him into the next room. They reached the doorways where there was a choice of left and right.
“Right turns only, isn’t that how we’re doing it?” He confirmed verbally before he guided them both through the door.
The first statue of several in the room caught Emil’s attention rather quickly. A person-sized marble carving sat on a podium and it was rather phallic. There was really no denying that it was a statue of a penis. Art was sometimes erotic, wasn’t it? Oooh, but to just carve a penis! He was suppressing giggles just thinking of what it must have been like for the artist when he was creating it.
“Well,” Emil spoke, searching for words to comment on the piece. The plaque read simply, “Athena’s Spear”. Emil began to giggle but turned it into a gentle cough. He shouldn’t have been amused by the thought of a mythical God using a penis as her sphere…but somehow, it was hilarious.
-
Well, at least he somewhat knew where the country was. Warsaw sounded familiar, too, now that he thought about it. Where had he heard it before…? Ah, the Warsaw Pact, of course. Something to do with the second world war, if he remembered correctly. That was far after Emil had been born, though, and it was likely that he hadn’t even been there at the time. Europe hadn’t been a very nice place then.
He nodded at the question, giving Emil a bright smile in return as they walked into the next room, arm in arm. To William’s surprise, he found a large statue of a…yes, it really was what he thought it was, in all its marble glory. And the name!
“Athena’s Spear,” he quoted the plaque, eyes roving down the large phallus. “There are so many puns involved in that name, I can’t even begin to think of them all. Wasn’t Athena one of the virgin goddesses?”
There had been three that he could remember, Artemis and Athena being two of them. The last one, however, completely escaped him, though he was sure that he would have been able to name the entire pantheon a year or two ago. It seemed the longer he was out of school, the more he forgot…and the more he was with Emil, the more he remembered the history and literature parts, at the very least.
-
Once it was clear that even Bill found the whole statue a bit silly, Emil allowed himself to laugh some about it.
At the end of his snorts he tilted his head in affirmation.
“Mmm. I do think so!”
He’d never had much interest in history unless it had to do with literature, particularly the works of great playwrights. Many a thing were written about Greek mythology so naturally he knew a thing or two.
“Athena, Artemis and Hestia.” He offered the piece of information, eyes scanning the rest of the room to see a variety of other erotic art displays. It was an awkward feeling only because he was with someone that he perceived as being so young. Nineteen certainly was the age of sexuality and he didn’t doubt that Bill dabbled in his own fair share of it, but it didn’t make the whole thing any easier. Although sexuality wasn’t something to be shameful of, Emil still felt to a degree it wasn’t something to be paraded around. Modesty was of importance even in these modern times.
-
"Hestia," Bill agreed with a smile, looking around the rest of the room. It was filled with erotic statues, almost like a room of Kama Sutra. It felt…awkward, almost, looking at these statues. He did like them, naturally, or at least he liked the phallic ones. But it felt a little too much like walking into a porn store of some type, to him. It was art, true enough…but not the kind of art he was used to seeing.
"I used to be really good in school…not with math, but with history and literature and stuff," he explained, speaking more to make conversation than because he actually thought Emil wanted to know about his educational history.
Bill walked around the edge of the room slowly, coming to a stop in front of the door to the right. The room certainly was interesting, but he certainly didn't want to spend all night having Emil watch him stare at pornographic statues. He would much rather see the rest of the gallery, or at least as much as he could before it closed.
He could see that the next room had some sort of mannequins set up, their clothes made from scraps of metal. Large hoop skirts, bronze headdresses…it certainly seemed modern and spacey, to say the least.
-
There was no hesitance in following Bill to the other room. Indeed, the energy coming off the mortal was nervous and he decided it was best if they get out of the room of nudity as soon as possible. Thankfully it wasn’t a them in the gallery; the next room they happened upon seemed to be less about human anatomy than the previous room.
“Oh, yes, that’s fantastic sweetheart. Why, I’m not much of a history buff as much as I learn history through reading great literature. I’ve had quite a lot of time to read things over and it’s amazing how my memory have improved since- well, since, I’m sure you can gather what I’m talking about,”
He gave the boy a wink and continued,
“It’s a dastardly deed to have to go through the textbooks your universities now use to educate about the past and the arts. Why, I’ve never read anything drier! I suppose someone with an interest in emotionless drabble would love to consume them- the bookwormy types is the slang I’ve heard to describe them! But I ask…I really ask, how can anyone learn in an ‘academic’ environment? Oh, I’ve tried to teach a few classes here and there in the arts, but everything is so stiff! There’s regulations and rules and codebooks you have to follow.”
He shook his head, giving a menacing look at the very thought of it.
“Not to say that there was ever a time that I recall where education was as lively as it could be! But I think I’m going on again,”
He wasn’t even paying attention to the art. This was why sometimes he tried not to engage in conversation while driving; Emil was inclined to get caught up in the conversation and miss an important freeway turn.
-
A comfortable smile fit on Bill's face as he walked along, listening to Emil ramble on. The vampire had such a nice voice, and even while Bill considered himself the bookwormy type, he could understand that not everyone learned well that way. His favorite method of teaching (or rather, having a teacher teach him) consisted of nothing more than writing notes on the board and having the student copy them while the teacher explained. Simple, yet effective. For him, anyway.
"I'm actually really good at following rules," he admitted, ducking his head down a little. "I mean…everything has rules and regulations, you just have to see them and know how to bend them the right way to make it look like you're breaking them. Does that make sense? It's more your interpretation of the rules that's art than the blatant breaking of them."
He glanced up at Emil, hoping he hadn't offended the vampire with his humble opinion. He really didn't have the experience Emil did, so it seemed more to him that he should just listen to the elder and keep his trap shut than offer his opinion.
"That's just what I think, I mean," he quickly amended. "Like I said, though, I don't really know that much about art, since I never took more than one class."
-
“You’re mischievous, aren’t you, smoochie!” It was less of a question and more of a statement. He thought it was adorable to think of shy, meek Bill bending the rules in ways that he saw fit in such slight ways that he never was caught doing it. He supposed that quieter people had learned the ropes of being sneaky in that way- loud people, like he was, tended to confess what was going on rather quickly.
He sensed a mood shift in Bill. He was backing out on his opinion and he could see how Bill was much like he was at times- submissive and subordinate to those that he perceived as his superior. Emil didn’t want to be seen as the superior, especially not when they were alone together. How could he correct it without essentially ‘ordering’ Bill to be more lax?
He paused in his steps, grabbing Bill by the shoulders and gently guiding him so they were standing face to face. He even tipped the mortal’s head up by a stroke underneath his chin so that they’d have direct eye contact.
“Listen to me, pookie,” He spoke in a gentle, low tone. He wanted this to sound much more comforting than scolding.
“You needn’t be nervous around me, okay? As long as we’re alone and not in the presence of another one like me, you can treat me like anybody else you know. I like hearing what you have to say and what you think, even if I don’t agree with it, even if you’re wrong.”
He wanted to run a hand through the mortal’s hair but he didn’t in fear of messing it up. Instead he pet the side of Bill’s face, hoping that what he was doing would make sense and that he wasn’t misreading Bill’s signals. He knew it would take time for Bill to believe what he was saying, but the only way to make sure it eventually happened was repetition and repeated assurance.
-
While it would seem from what Bill said that he truly was the mischievous type, that rarely showed through. He was typically meek and did follow the rules to the letter, whether he agreed with them or not…of course, that had been before his brother had disappeared. Now…now he bent the rules in whatever way he could, hoping that he could find his brother. He was breaking at least two right now, standing in a room alone with Emil after curfew. It would have been three, were he able to contact his brother.
All of those rule faded away, however, as Emil spoke to him softly. The small touches of affection were in no way sexual, nor did Bill think of the vampire sexually in any way (apart from the feeding, naturally). No, these small gestures, the soft voice and the heartspoken offer meant more to him than anything else.
Bill would never compare Emil to his father or to a father-figure in a million years, but this was the type of thing that he wished his father would do with him. Just a small touch, a small gesture, and an offer to listen. Thomas had always listened to Bill, just as Emil was offering now. But no one else…not a single one of his friends had so much as even hinted at wanting to listen to anything Bill wanted. If he didn't agree, he either shut up or went elsewhere, and every one of his friends was the same when it came to that. He couldn't begin to explain to Emil how much this simple exchange meant to him.
"Thank you," he breathed a whisper, not trusting his voice entirely right now.
Bill leaned into the touch, wanting more but still too afraid and not nearly assertive enough to ask for it. He was the type of person that needed touches and words of reassurance almost constantly, something Thomas had been eager to play up to, at least in his own mind. It never occurred to him that his own brother might grow to resent that very aspect of him.
-
For a moment Emil wondered if he was frightening Bill by being so close because the boy sounded so meek and quiet that it was the only thing he could rightfully assume. He tilted his head and looked at the young man, determining that it was better to stop than to further frighten the mortal. He drew his hands back and created reasonable distance between them.
“Oh no, thank you sweetheart! Really I had the most grueling start to tonight and it was a lifesaver when you called me. I was scrubbing away most of this early evening trying to rid a stain and oh how I am glad you called me and spared me from that task! Sometimes I become so consumed with a task that I don’t even realize I’ve better things to do, better things like this, spending time with a new friend!”
He made an exaggerated exhausted expression and groaned, winking at Bill before he motioned to link arms with the mortal and guide him into the next room.
“How do you think, so far? Didn’t you say you’ve never been to an art gallery before? Why, with your interest in the arts that surprises me quite a bit! Then you must share with me from the outsider perspective what all of this seems like, and feel free to be honest! It isn’t my art gallery after all and that’s what art is for, isn’t it: the critique!”
The next room was half the size of the others with a couple of potted (possible plastic) plants and a few cushioned benches pressed up against the wall. Emil looked around a couple of times, spinning in a circle. There didn’t appear to be any art displays.
“Mmm, this is one of those sitting rooms. That’s the strange thing about this one, methinks. They’ve got so many rooms that- oooh, I don’t even know what they’re for!” And it seemed, this was the end of the line for the ‘right’ turns’: no doors remained. The pathway stopped here.
-
Emil withdrew, and the moment was broken. Still, the feelings remained. He was completely overwhelmed by the fact that someone he had just met cared enough to offer to listen to anything Bill said.
"It's really no problem," he answered, smiling happily at the vampire as they linked arms. "I needed to get away for a while, anyway, and it seemed the perfect time to call."
He looked around the new room, wondering if the furniture was the art exhibit. Alas, however, it was apparently just a sitting room. It seemed quite odd to put one in the middle of the gallery, but he didn't really have any experience with galleries, so he didn't know if it was normal or not.
"I like it so far," he explained, looking up at Emil. "I haven't really had the time or money to go to one before, honestly…I didn't even know that this one was here. It's very…modern, I have to say. Unexpected, I suppose is a good word for it."
He did like some of the art pieces, like the paintings and the sculptures (even if they had made him a little uncomfortable since he was with Emil). Others, like the music, he didn't particularly care for. His favorite art was still the older stuff, for sure.
"Shall we go back, then?" he asked after a moment, not wanting to go, particularly. "Not that anyone cares if I break curfew anymore, I mean…"
-
“Well that’s the good news, goobers,” Emil spoke gleefully.
“The Art Gallery is free.” He gave the boy a wink, though he really did wonder where Bill had got the notion it would cost something. The roll of the new century seemed to be all about giving citizens free art and culture. Then again, Emil supposed, people weren’t used to having free fun on a regular basis.
“Of course, when we leave you’ll see that they have a donation box and I enjoy putting a generous sum in there just to make sure this place keeps going! Especially for the likes of people such as yourself who’d love to contribute but don’t quite have the means.”
He was acknowledging that once more, Bill was probably poor and couldn’t afford to give the amount of money that was really necessary per person for this place to continue to thrive. He was sure there was some government money that the Art Gallery leaned back on if all else failed but he didn’t like to think that such an establishment would need it. Surely there were cultured people in the city who spent their afternoons appreciating local artists’ works!
Bill was nineteen so he reasoned by the age of majority, eighteen, most ‘curfew’ restrictions were no longer levied by parents.
“Your father must trust you greatly! Why I could never be like that. It’s likely one of the reasons I’ve never sought out any ‘children’ or what have you…I’m certain that curfew would be a rather strict hour and for several reasons!” He chuckled.
“Certainly- I think the gallery’s about to close soon anyhow. We ought try to find ourselves out of this maze. You lead the way!” Emil exclaimed, standing with his arm stretched away from him, expecting it to be grasped and to be led away by Bill’s force.
-
"I didn't actually know that," Bill admitted shyly, smiling at Emil. "Maybe I'll come back here sometime, knowing that…if I have anything to donate, I mean."
He felt a little embarrassed at not having much money, and the fact that it was just so obvious…but what else could he do? His entire paycheck and more went towards rent and keeping food on the table--or at the least in his stomach. More than half of his father's paycheck went towards beer and whiskey. It was a bit reversed, in his opinion, but then he couldn't buy alcohol if he wanted, anyway.
"Oh, my father didn't set my curfew," he corrected almost immediately. "Thomas did. My father doesn't even notice when I go out, really…it's been over a year and he still thinks Thomas lives with us, so…yeah."
He trailed off lamely, grasping Emil's outstretched hand to lead him out of the gallery, glad he had taken the right-turn approach to the gallery, as it made it easy to traverse back towards the door.
"That's actually why I called…I mean…I just had to get out of the house a bit, after that. It's like a slap in the face, that he still hasn't noticed…I haven't even tried to cover it up," he explained truthfully.
-
Bill’s comments were heartbreaking to the vampire. He knew there were worse things, but it was still a shame that the youth had what seemed to be, at the least worrisome, a neglectful father. Emil’s own father had been attentive and they had bonded well; it was hard for him to imagine what it must have been like to grow up with a parental relationship being so lacking. Or perhaps it hadn’t always been like that. Emil had so many questions on the details of the situation, but he knew that a rapid-fire question approach wouldn’t be helpful at all to Bill even if it would relieve some of his queries. Too, the remark that an older sibling was setting curfews seemed to indicate some form of dysfunction in the family. Emil was no psychologist but he knew that normally rule-setting was the responsibility of an adult.
“I can imagine that it would be rather frustrating to be so worried about your brother while at the same time your father doesn’t seem to notice. Spending time away from that environment could do you good; it makes perfect sense.”
He firstly acknowledged the boy’s point of view, rephrasing his words so that Bill knew he understood the message and had been listening.
“I say, I don’t rightly know when things will be looking up for you. But it is always too early to quit and worry is quite a waste of imagination.”
He playfully flicked the top of Bill’s nose with his index finger and gave a wink.
“I’ll arrange for you to meet with this private investigator and perhaps then some of your questions will be answered. I can’t make any promises. But until then, I hope you know that you’re always welcome to call me if you can’t last another moment in your house. Even when I’m on the go, there is always room for a friend.”
-
There he went, offering Bill the world again. Well, it wasn't exactly the world, but it was far more than the youth was used to, and it was exactly what he needed. His face lit up with a smile as they finally made their way to the entrance, his hand still firmly grasping Emil's.
"Thank you," he spoke softly, squeezing the hand gently. "You really don't know how much that means to me."
It all meant so much to him--the private investigator, the offer to be there whenever Bill needed or wanted to get away…it was something a friend would do. Oddly enough, it did seem like Emil was a friend, though he was a vampire at the same time.
Had Thomas felt the same way about George, when they first met? Bill couldn't believe that they had been dating for two years, and his brother none the wiser as to what his boyfriend was. It was unreal.
The problem was, he didn't have closure. He didn't know if George had stolen Thomas away and forced him to become a fledging to save Bill, or if he had simply turned on him and killed him. Was this how it had started, with just a simple friendship? Was Bill setting himself up for whatever fate had become of his brother?
The smile faded from his face, eyes growing worried as the thoughts suddenly occurred to him. Emil wouldn't be like George, though…would he? But Bill had met George, and aside from the fact that he took Thomas away far too much, he was generally a likable person. Emil was likable, too.
-
They reached the front of the museum, towards the doors with the ‘exit’ sign artistically hanging above the archway. A podium next to the doors held the donation box and Emil eyed it as they approached. He pulled back from Bill for a moment to retrieve his wallet from his pocket, taking out a couple of hundred dollar bills and shoving it into the donation box. He didn’t dare donate more, for even though the box was bolted to the table, it still seemed an easy target for theft. Most of the money he ‘donated’ to the arts was done through wire transfer anyhow.
After he put his wallet back into its rightful place he looked to his wristwatch. The museum would be closing soon and it was best they get out of here. He also figured Bill had had enough of him by now and it would be a perfect time to part ways.
“I think it’s time we call it day,” Emil announced.
“It was lovely seeing you, Bill.” He remarked before leaning in and planting a cordial kiss on both of Bill’s cheeks.
-
His heart swelled at the gesture, even as he wrapped his arms around Emil, unwilling to let go for a long moment. It only then occurred to him that not once had Emil mentioned feeding, and it really was only proper…perhaps he was waiting for Bill to offer.
"You too…thank you so much," he smiled, pulling back from the vampire. "Did you want to um…are you hungry? I mean we could go somewhere else to do it if you want, it's only right after everything you've done…"
And Bill wanted it. He hated that he wanted it, but he wanted it, wanted to be held just a little bit longer by someone else. Hugging a stuffed frog his brother had gotten him at night didn't take away the want, the need for physical affection that he so craved. But it helped…it helped, but it wasn't enough. He just needed someone willing to hold him for long lengths of time, he thought, someone he trusted. Certainly not Andi, that was for sure.
-
With Bill’s words, it suddenly occurred to Emil that the human thought that he had to be a walking blood bank as payment for what he’d offered to help with. Emil thought he’d made it clear from the beginning that he was giving him a gift and expected nothing in return, so he couldn’t tell if it was the boy’s ‘vampire manners’ stepping in or if he truly felt that there were strings attached to their relationship.
“Oooh, Bill,” He spoke under his breath in a tone that clearly indicated sympathetic concern.
He paused and sighed. It was difficult to think up the appropriate words at the moment. There was so much that he felt and wanted to ask how long Bill had been thinking these things.
“I think you’ve misunderstood me somehow. I’ve never and never will expect that you do that for me on a regular basis. It would be fine if you were offering on your own free terms, pookie, and correct me if I’m wrong…but I can’t help but think you’re being influenced by the need to repay me. Do you feel like you need to offer that to me because you ‘owe me’ for helping you? Please be honest, honey. I need to know.”
-
Well on one hand…yes, he did feel that Emil deserved it, especially after everything he had offered. Friendships worked on a give-and-take relationship as far as he knew, and Emil had certainly given a lot…there was no other way for Bill to repay his kindness, truly.
He hated feeling indebted to people. Perhaps it was something that his brother had taught him, not to take charity if he can help it, even if he needed it. He had to have some way to repay Emil, and blood was his only currency.
"Of course I'm offering on my own free terms," he tried to explain himself better. "You haven't fed yet…it's only natural for it to be me, since I've taken up your entire night."
The subject of 'repayment' was touchy at best. Bill didn't know if he was doing it because he thought he owed Emil, or if he simply didn't want to part from him quite yet. He was actually betting on the latter, knowing himself. But on the other hand…how else was he supposed to repay Emil, anyway?
He hadn't exactly answered the vampire's question, and he knew it. That, however, was because he wasn't sure of the answer himself. Did his reasons really matter, though, if he himself wanted it for his own selfish pleasure?
"It just…feels nice," he continued lamely, looking down as he flushed. "I don't mind it."
-
From the boy’s last comments, he was beginning to think it had something to do with the erotic sensation of being fed from. Perhaps he felt the need to repay or perhaps it was a sort of thrill that the mortal got from it that he crave…it might have even been both. But the way Bill was presenting himself wasn’t very clear and he’d feel like he was taking advantage of the situation if he accepted that answer and thus fed.
“I did feed tonight, pookie, before I met up with you.” It would seem like he had a brief span of time to do so, but regular feedings was really part of his living arrangements with Lamar and so on many evenings he didn’t have to go out scourging for a meal. It was nice to start an evening with a fairly full belly, indeed.
He brushed his hand across the side of Bill’s face.
“I appreciate your explanation, darling, and I’m not doubting what you said. I believe you, I do. But I would feel awful if I fed on you tonight when you give such a vague answer- does that make sense, darling? There’s nothing wrong with wanting me to feed from you because of the way it makes you feel, but I want you to be certain about your motivations. I don’t want to take advantage of you and I don’t want you to feel used. I think that you maybe you should think on it for a while and mayhaps the next time we meet you'll know for certain, without any doubts. Do you know what I mean by that, sweetie?”
-
Bill leaned into the touch, gazing up at Emil with bright eyes. He couldn't explain why he had been actually been hoping to feed Emil, except perhaps that Emil had never taken advantage of him. Well, never wasn't really a good word, considering they had only been in the situation twice--no, once. Now was the second time, and again…Emil refused to take advantage of Bill, making sure that Bill actually wanted it before he would take the offer.
"Okay," he agreed simply, putting on a small smile for the other. It was actually rather touching, that Emil wanted him to be completely sure he wanted it before taking it. It wasn't a form of repayment, and Emil wanted to make that clear, apparently.
How, then, was Bill supposed to repay him for his kindness? Perhaps Emil truly was doing this out of the goodness of his heart, but Bill, personally, felt that after a certain amount of kindness, he should find some way to pay Emil back. Maybe he could buy him a gift or something, but what would you get a wealthy vampire, anyway? Anything Emil would have wanted, he probably bought himself.
"Thank you," he added after a moment, wrapping his arms around Emil briefly again. "It means a lot to me, really. You have no idea…everything you've done…"
-
As arms were wrapped around him, Emil returned the gesture, attaching his own arms above Bill’s waist. The young moral decidedly needed a good hug judging from what he’d been through with his brother and the possibility of his troublesome home life. He held it firmly enough to indicate that he was fine with the hug and wanted to comfort Bill yet it wasn’t so firm that Bill was liable to be squashed under his strength.
He stepped backwards, prepared to make his exit now. It wasn’t that he was in such a rush to leave Bill but more that he had so many other things to do, some that likely wouldn’t be appropriate to bring the young mortal with.
“Now, I must say au revoir; I’ll call you, regarding our other plans about your brother. But you remember, pookie, this isn’t goodbye; it’s just a new beginning.”
He winked and turned, stepping out of the Qamar Art Gallery.