Opening Night

[RPC Admin]

IT WAS HALLOWEEN WHEN VENTURE opened for the first time.  It was a fitting opening night, and had taken quite some time to plan.  Venture was ready a mere three nights beforehand, with all manner of workers toiling together to make the deadline.  It had been the two-way glass that had taken the longest to install - not because glass itself was difficult to install, but they'd had complication after complication with it.  At least construction was ready, and they only had three nights to deal with opening night: decorating it, ordering enough food and drink for it, getting staff together.  Levinia had found herself with quite a complex task as her first role in the bar managerial position.  Thrown into the deep end with a massive party to plan.  The Sacramentum family had also pitched in to help, of course, but deferred to her when it had anything to do with staff.  It was appropriate to support their new bar manager.

The mortals were the first to enter the club, an hour before their VIP counterparts.  Quite a few mortals were queueing up outside as well, for word had got around that if there weren't enough mortals inside by a certain time, some mortals would be let in to make up the numbers - whether they'd received an official invite or not.  Every now and then a Sacramentum family member would walk along the queue, looking at what they had on offer, and selecting one or two to go inside much to their delight.  The rest of them were sent home by the time the first few vampires arrived to the opening, and they would find that there were already quite a number of young, healthy humans within dancing and drinking and laughing.

The party was already in full swing by the time most of the VIP attendees arrived, greeted at the door by a member of the Sacrament, the owners of the club, and told that they were free to wander all areas of the club.  There were also mini-tours given every hour on the hour starting from the downstairs bar where existing VIP members could be shown what they would have access to beyond what regular members did, or those who were not yet VIP would get a solid pitch to purchase membership.  Venture was a neutral safe-house, they would explain, if someone was on the run from the political powers around the district.  If someone came to Venture to ask for sanctuary they would get it, but they would also be nominating the Sacrament to speak on their behalf to the South District Leader Vomas.  Venture was also going to be somewhere a young vampire could come to request guidance if they had limited access to or no sire.  Young vampires were considered anything under fifty years as a vampire.

There was a fairly well-known DJ playing the upstairs part of the club, with strong bass beats and repetitive lyrics and varying samples.  Downstairs, there was a local soft-jazz band of five, and neither of the area's sounds impacted on the other.  Sacramentum had paid some of their Fae contacts quite dearly for this.


NOTE TO MEMBERS POSTING IN HERE
There is no posting order.
Try to have your character mingle around and meet as many other characters as possible.

[Trillian]

Vincent wasn't particularly interested in coming to the party, even though it would've been rude not to show his face.  What made it more pleasant for him was the idea of bumping into Owen here, who hadn't contacted him since that wonderful night they'd shared together.  Vincent had thought it was going to be a segue towards Owen making plans to come home, but when he didn't, Vincent was confused.  So here he was, sitting in the corner of one of the huge black U-lounges downstairs, listening to the music that was thoughtfully provided and made him feel more at peace than the music upstairs would, and waited for Owen to arrive.  Of course his fledge might not, and in the meantime he was making a bit of chitchat with whoever sat near him, but that was mostly what he was doing; waiting, looking smart and casual in his white turtleneck sweater and crisply tailored gray pants, with shiny black shoes.

Ben was already upstairs, poking his head into the feeding rooms and surprised by the two-way glass that appeared behind the mirror.  He saw a vampire and mortal disappear into the one beside the one he was peering in, and the door closed behind them.  After a moment, Ben walked past, looking at his own reflection and knowing that inside they would feel like he was watching them while they did whatever.  Wow, Venture had put a whole new spin on sleaze.  High class sleaze, if such a thing were possible.  He continued walking along the curved walkway, and found a table to sit at, that nobody had grabbed yet.  He supposed a mortal might come up to him now, asking to provide him with a drink - but none came immediately, and he didn't know whether to be pleased or insulted.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen was nervous about attending Venture's opening, though it had absolutely nothing to do with the club and everything to do with the fact that he was seeing his husband after almost two months of separation.  Two very long, very emotional, very confusing months filled with a lot of thinking.  He'd found some peace now but he wasn't sure it would be enough to get them through a civilised discussion where emotions didn't get the better of them.  Whether it was better to attempt it in a public place over a private one was also debatable, but public should help reign in any excitable impulses.  It should also keep them from fucking again, he figured.

Dressed nicely in black slacks, black shoes and a metallic blue long-sleeved shirt (sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons undone) that was tucked in so that his decorative silver belt buckle was able to clearly show that it matched the silver chain around his neck, he drove to the club.  It was a risk and he got a park out the front, but there weren't many left when he pulled in.  After locking the Mustang, he headed inside, observing the very business-like facade of the place and not thinking it looked or even sounded too much like the next big thing in supernatural clubbing.  The bouncers at the door defied that notion and he was let in only after confirmng that he was, indeed, on the guest list.

Pausing in the foyer, he ran his hands through his golden curls in an effort to dry them completely - he'd showered and headed here more or less straight after waking up.  The stairs upward intrigued him but he could feel Vincent ahead of him downstairs, so he went that way.  As he walked, he fiddled with the ring - now on his left hand, as it was meant to be - he'd switched back and forth at least twenty times already tonight.  There were various reasons for having it on either hand, most significant were the ones concerning the message he wanted to convey to his lover.  In the end, instinct had decided it should be on his left hand, though his head was still very uncomfortable with this decision.

Not wanting to do any more thinking or second guessing, he strolled into the club and straight up to where Vincent was, sitting on his right (their knees a safe distance apart) and giving him a nod of acknowledgement.  "Hey there," he greeted simply, still unable to summon a smile for his lover, despite having reached a point where he accepted what fate had dealt him in the way of a life.  Instinctively, his gaze roamed Vincent's form and he liked what he saw, finding him beautiful and enticing in so many ways but squashing it down.  He leaned back on the comfortable lounge, slightly twisted towards his lover so his left elbow could press into the back of the seat, his right hand draped casually over his thigh.  He felt more confident than he had last time they'd met, for he was more settled in many respects now.  He watched Vincent, open to his emotions and trying to guage what he was thinking without actually prying.

[Trillian]

Vincent felt Owen arrive but made no motions of moving.  He wanted his fledge to comfortably approach him, rather than be assaulted by Vincent's sudden appearance.  He wished that things didn't have to be so difficult between them, that it hadn't become instantly complicated the moment Owen had stumbled - no, snooped - upon the truth.  He was still hurt by the fact Owen had done so, but the results had far overshadowed the crime.  Exitus acta probat; a means to an end.  He hoped it wasn't the end of them, and was just finishing that thought when he noted Owen sauntering up to him with the ring on his left finger.  It was an automatic check performed by Vincent, and his heart soared at the sight of it, no matter how carefully he was trying to shield it.  If Owen broke his heart again, then he would do so, but not because Vincent had ever held it back from him.

Hey there?  The greeting chafed him for some reason.  It was awkward and disquieting.  Had they fallen so far in their ability to communicate with one another?  He watched Owen sit, graceful to a point and then lounging back like a young bull, or perhaps a prince holding court.  He looked too comfortable, suddenly, as though he'd come to a decision and made peace with himself.  As high as Vincent's hopes were soaring because of the ring, he couldn't stop his stomach from flip-flopping in nervous anticipation, dreading what might come forth out of Owen's lips.  Perhaps it had been the lack of a smile that had clarified Owen's unspoken purpose to Vincent.

He wanted to begin with a declaration of how much he'd missed Owen, but such a thing would be garish.  Instead, he reverted to the same kind of pleasantry he'd received.

"Hello, Owen.  You look impressive tonight," he complimented, for he was impressed.  Not just by the clothes either, but by the fact Owen was carrying himself more like the man he was.

[Existentially Odd]

The younger vampire couldn't help but give his companion a wry look, finding the word 'impressive' odd but strangely flattering, too.  Trust Vincent to weaken his resolve by being unique and charming - not that he was resolved to do anything in particular, just... not fall into his lover's arms at the first opportunity, really.

"You look very handsome yourself," he returned, his expression smoothing into something more contemplative.  He didn't speak again immediately, in case his sire wished to acknowledge his compliment, but once he did, he had a leading statement to offer up.  "I finally checked my bank balance a couple of nights ago.  I was wondering why you gave me all that money without saying anything about it?  Mum thinks maybe it was a divorce settlement," he said cautiously.

He didn't think it was anything of the sort but the words had shocked him (as had her implication that Vincent was offloading money onto him before he killed himself) and he wondered if they'd have the same effect on his benefactor.

[Trillian]

He thanked Owen for his words with a small nod.  He knew the subject of the money would arise, but he hadn't expected the interpretation of a divorce settlement.  Trust Karen to think of a social explanation.  He shook his head, but a prompt answer followed.

"I saw where you were living and thought you might like a place of your own," he said, and stopped himself from prompting that Owen could always come home.  He'd already made the offer, and Owen already knew it, so there was no point making things awkward between them.

He hadn't wanted Owen to live as a vagrant, moving from place to place.  A fixed location would be better for the both of them, he thought, but he wasn't about to tell Owen that, knowing his sentiments would be twisted into something evil and controlling.  Perhaps he was trying to control the situation a little, by giving Owen the means to at least settle down somewhere, but giving someone the opportunity to and them choosing to do it or not wasn't controlling anything, he thought.  Owen could use the money to move countries, get a fresh start, have a long holiday.  It was out of Vincent's hands now.

[Existentially Odd]

He watched Vincent, examining his facial expression carefully, trying to pinpoint any signs of subterfuge but there didn't seem to be a hidden meaning behind him getting the money.  He hadn't even batted an eyelid when the word 'divorce' had been thrown out there, so Owen sincerely doubted he'd seriously contemplated them separating permanently yet.  He'd given him all that money, though, it must have at least crossed his mind that it could happen.

"I would, yeah," he nodded, "but... I dunno'," he frowned, glancing around them at the people mingling nearby, momentarily distracted as a mortal sat on the far end of the generously-sized lounge so he sat forward and turned towards his sire a little more, his elbows on his thighs and his hands tangling together in the space between.  He looked earnestly at Vincent.  "See... I'm better with what happened.  I'm dealing with it, anyway.  I can't change my past or your actions, so there's no point being mad about it forever, I get that now.  But I still feel like...," he broke off, needing to think about it, his gaze falling downward and landing on Vincent's hand as he gave his words some thought.

It was at about this point that he realised he should probably have rehearsed this conversation before he came in here, instead of winging it, but it was too late for regrets now.  He looked back up into Vincent's eyes and did his best to resist their lure as he continued honestly.  "I'm still not sure where I fit.  I don't want to be at the Chambers any more but I'm not sure where we're at so I don't really know about coming home, either.  I still feel like I'm missing some sort of... purpose for me, I don't... I don't feel ready to just give up, I don't... hell, I'm not even sure I know what I mean," he admitted with a wry laugh, sitting up and running a hand through his hair as he bit his lip and looked at Vincent somewhat helplessly.

[Trillian]

He listened to what Owen was saying, properly listening, as though perhaps he hadn't before.  He was nodding, looking at Owen with the intensity of his complete attention.  When Owen was distracted, he took the time to study every nuance of his fledgling's face - and his heart hurt to know that he had put sorrow in those eyes.  Him.  He had made an unforgiveable wrong; he'd hurt Owen in a way that only an intimate friend and lover could, with betrayal.

As the words flowed over and through him, he could feel the bouyancy in his heart leap again.  He understood that Owen didn't want to come home right away, but it was enough that he'd considered it, that he didn't want to cut ties with Vincent, that he hadn't given up on them.

"I'm very pleased to hear you say this, and I'm... grateful, that you haven't given up.  I've been having a hard time as well.  Oh, I'm not trying to undercut your feelings," he said hurriedly and sincerely, his hand lifting in order to reach towards Owen's knee but it stopped halfway and returned without making contact.  Vincent continued talking without skipping a beat, as though his motion were completely natural.  "I do understand that you had a big shock, that you had a lot to process, but from my perspective, nothing changed; it was simply... one night we were together and completely in love and the next you didn't want anything to do with me.  It was a shock.  It was... hard."  He was frowning now, finally able to explain that one moment where he'd seemed to turn inside out.

He waited for Owen's reaction, but other than biting his lip and looking thoughtful, nothing immediately came.  After a dozen seconds passed, Vincent took advantage of Owen's silence and continued.  The club made background noise, with dozens of other conversations around them, glasses clinking and bottles pouring, music playing and general revelry, but Vincent heard and saw none of it.  Owen was his focus.  He spoke again quietly, but with passion.

"How selfish and arrogant I was, to think that I could shape myself a companion.  I thought that if I provided opportunities, offered culture and education, that anyone I did these things for would be a perfect match for me; raised on things I enjoyed, appreciating the tastes I'd nurtured, seeing things through my eyes and being grateful - grateful - that I select these things on their behalf.  And I learned to take steps back, didn't I, as I encountered one rejection after the next.  My arrogance blinded me, I believed that such things had been my mistake to rectify, that somewhere I'd gone wrong.  It didn't even occur to me that it wasn't working because of them - that they were people that I couldn't package with a little bow, that their nature wasn't something in my control.  It only worked with you because... of who you are in your heart.  And you tell me you have nothing to offer me, and perhaps now you understand that you are the only thing I will ever need."

He shook his head, for he hadn't meant to talk about love.  Owen didn't want to hear it, and Vincent likely didn't even need to say it; he simply needed to explain why he'd done the things he'd done.  That had been something that he felt Owen hadn't been properly armed with.  "I've been two hundred years without my sire, Owen.  And I loved her deeply, and miss her still.  Call it the baggage of a past relationship if you must, I'm quite sure everyone here has them," he gestured at the people around them, the first time he seemed aware of his surroundings, and the first time he acknowledged them.  "But know that you are just as special to me, if not more so, because she chose me, but I chose you.  And I don't mean as a babe," he said, closing his eyes and shaking his head again, his fingers curling into fists on his legs before the opened again when he looked back at Owen, "but it was when I bedded you, I chose you, because by that time, I was already deeply in love."

The sounds of the club suddenly bombarded him, as though somebody had turned off the mute button on a remote, and he blinked, bewildered by the noise and very aware of everything that he'd confessed.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen was quite the opposite, finding focus and amazement by degrees as Vincent spoke, falling gradually under his spell.  He'd been right to allow his sire time to speak, for he'd sensed that he had more to say than just how hard he'd found their separation, the fledgling had been content to nod along and listen, feeling his messy foray into confession might be met with something similar.  Of course, he was wrong on that count, because nothing about Vincent was messy, everything about him was charming and he'd obviously been thinking just as much as Owen had.  He was most pleased about the fact that not all of it had been about their relationship either, but about his part in the lives of the children he'd tried to shape.

He recognised how arrogant he was and acknowledged his part in the lives of the children he'd tried to make his companions!  And it ended with Owen because he'd fallen in love with him, and because their personalities meshed naturally, not because he'd been shaped that way.  The rawness of the confession, the unexpectedness of it convinced him instantly and caused his heart to squeeze in his chest.  His eyes fell closed and the relief that washed through him was a tangible wave; he hadn't even known that these were the words he'd been waiting to hear, until they'd left him weak and... somehow shaky... here before his lover.

Owen opened his eyes and the blueness of them would likely be blurry beneath the tears that were swimming in them.  He stopped biting his lip and licked them instead, unsure what he was going to say but needing to follow that up with something.  "I don't know if I'm all you'll ever need.  I still  feel like I should be more but... I guess we can figure that out... and I still love you," he confessed, perhaps not following the most linear of paths in his response but needing to say it.  After giving Vincent a moment to digest the words, he leaned forward in order to embrace him, awkward as it was sitting on the couch.

[Trillian]

To hear of Owen's love made his heart soar to a level Vincent had not expected.  He'd thought it had been bouyant before, when he was hopeful, but it was nothing on this - a feeling of dizzy ecstasy, light-headedness and relief so profound that he acted without being aware of what he was doing.  Sweeping Owen upward with him - removing them from the awkward sitting embrace - he was soon clutching at Owen in a hold that he felt would never let go.  A sob escaped him though it was stifled in Owen's shoulder; he clung to him tightly, raising his head in order to look at his lover, his partner in eternity, holding Owen's face with both hands before relinquishing his hold in order to clutch at him some more, pulling him close.

"I love you, too, so much," he said into Owen's neck, knowing Owen knew but words like that simply had to be said.  If not at a time like this, then they never would.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen was so used to being miserable that to experience any sort of lightening of that mood was almost a shock to the system but as they stood and clung to one another that was exactly what happened.  He thought he might be kissed when his face was held and he was oddly nervous about that - like they'd never kissed before! - but when it didn't happen he was just disappointed.  He smiled as he was told he was loved, rubbing his cheek absently against Vincent's hair and wondering at how unfamiliar yet comfortable it felt to have his arms wrapped around his lover after doing his best to audition inadequate substitutes for months.

"You're a bit of a bastard, you know," he whispered, his lips finding the shell of Vincent's ear.  He smiled against it, his tone betraying the fact that there was no malice in his words.  "I was so determined tonight to just play it cool, to do my best to stay away from you... but your words just... turned everything upside down.  Now I really have no clue what to do from here on out," he laughed breathily, his hands running up and down Vincent's back gently.

[Trillian]

Being called a bastard didn't bother him, but the fact Owen was calling him that because Vincent had evidently reached his heart past his resolve... well, that just amused him.  He gave a soft laugh, stopping the rest from bubbling up through his chest and out of his mouth.  He would be hysterical if he started laughing now, he knew.  There was a kind of insanity in how he was feeling; he recognised he wasn't properly in his senses, but he expected that the magnitude of his relief was causing this feeling.  It was a good feeling, though he was also reeling from it.  He had to be very careful now, though - this wasn't over.

It was a thought that sobered him up a little, and he needed that.  He pulled back again, holding Owen's shoulders, and looked sideways and down back at the seats on their right before sitting down and pulling Owen down as well, across and diagonally from him, much as they'd been.  With his right hand he'd pulled on Owen's left, and now he continued to hold it, his hand beneath Owen's, his thumb on the top and stroking back and forth over the band that was on his ring finger.  His gaze didn't leave Owen's eyes once they were sat.

"As much as I want you to come home, it might be best for you to find your own place, still," he said, and it hurt him to say this, but right now he needed to do what was best for Owen and himself in the long term.  "I shouldn't have dismissed your wishes to better yourself.  I'd focussed on your reasoning, you see, because you kept saying you had nothing to offer me, but I should've realised it was because you felt unsatisfied with yourself."

He had suggestions; many, many suggestions as to the things Owen could do to make himself feel more accomplished, but he kept it to himself.  Unless he was asked, he would stop trying to guide Owen.  He'd probably slip up here and there, but if it wasn't constant, perhaps Owen would see that he was making an effort to let him be his own man.

[pinkroses]

Sebastian had arrived a while ago and spent his time so far strolling around the club, exploring the lounge downstairs before venturing upstairs in the club to the dancefloor. He watched the humans for a few minutes, shaking his head at the first few offers from donors before deciding that where he was stood was only going to get him more offers like that and Seb wasn’t interested in feeding. Not yet anyway.

He moved away from the dancefloor to eye up the feeding rooms briefly before he spotted a face he recognised.

“Good evening, Ben,” the ancient said, giving the blonde a warm smile as he bowed his head slightly in greeting. Their previous meeting at the ball had been brief – and it had been Ben and Jenna doing most of the talking – but Sebastian was well aware that Ben might not be comfortable having him near. But Sebastian was intrigued to find out more about Kerr’s lover when it could so easily have been Jenna Kerr had picked.

[Existentially Odd]

Owen nodded as Vincent told him he should remain separate from him for a while longer.  As nice as it was to have them both acknowledge their part in the past conflict and then to declare there was still love between them, it didn't make the future any clearer for him.  Having his own place and establishing himself as a separate entity to Vincent (while being supported by him emotionally and financially) would help that and he was relieved to not have to fight over it - or to have to hurt Vincent any more than had already been done.

There was a sense in him that he wasn't completely finished with arguing with his lover, either, though he didn't know why, when he'd accepted the past.  Having his own place would give them both time to get ready for being reunited, though, and establish a safe place for both of them to retreat to, if things stopped working out occasionally.  He felt happy that he was being offered continued independence because, as right as it felt to be by Vincent's side, he still didn't feel completely himself and he wanted a chance to establish who that was.  Somehow.

"Thank you," he said huskily and a small, foreign-feeling smile crept its way onto his face.  It felt strange because it had been a long time since he'd smiled at anyone but especially at Vincent.  "I'll get an apartment in the city, I quite like it in there and both the Templar and the Capital have vampire-friendly places, from what I've heard.  I think I'll see which one has something for rent.  But, you and me... maybe we should try and see each other regularly, to train and... " he broke off as he recalled how their last training session had ended and his smile became a grin.  "Well.  To train, right?" he queried cutely, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows as he looked up at Vincent from beneath them.

Dominic was sure he shouldn't be here.  When he'd received the invitation, though - as a listed and tattooed donor from Risk, he wasn't surprised he had - he'd felt a leap of excitement that he knew he wouldn't be able to deny.  It'd been too long since he'd hooked up with any vampire, Sebastian had been the last, but his life had changed quite dramatically since then and he had a new outlook.  For a start, he'd almost died at work when one of his men had mapped a yard plan incorrectly and he'd cut into a power line.  The voltage explosion had thrown him across the yard and had caused his heart to stop.  Without thinking, Gene had run to him and somehow touched him and brought him back to life.  Neither of them could explain it, though they were certain that was what had happened - one minute Dom was in complete blackness, the next he was rushing towards a light that ended up being Gene hovering over him in a complete stranger's backyard.

It had brought them closer together in many ways, but Dom could see Gene was on a path of self-discovery that he had to walk alone.  A phone call home to his mother had revealed that the man he'd thought was his father actually wasn't and it turned out Gene was part Angel because his mother had slept with one.  Dom was as boggled as the sexy southerner had been and they'd spent more than one night drinking and trying to puzzle the implications out, but the Oligarchy had disbanded about the time they needed them the most, so neither of them knew who to turn to for answers now.  They were taking things one day at a time, for the most part and Dom was really just moral support.  And Gene's number one fan, since the man had brought him back to life, of course.

So he'd turned up to the Venture opening to at least check it out, believing Gene couldn't come because he didn't receive an invitation.  Dom was wearing some heavy black boots, dark blue jeans, a white singlet tucked into them and an open, short-sleeved black shirt over it, completely unbuttoned so it clearly showed off his body and the silver chain at his throat.  His hair wasn't styled because he'd shaved it so close to his head that there was only a minute amount of dark stubble covering his smooth brown scalp, his face equally as clean-shaven.  He'd come to the realisation (clichéd as it was) that life was really too short to worry about who knew he was gay when the people that mattered the most didn't mind.  Why care about the rest?  His business was excellent (especially after he'd fired the kid that'd got him killed), he'd finally finished his study and had his degree and he was alive, thanks to Gene.  He was done with hiding and he had a lot to be thankful for, so here he was, drinking his water and circulating his way through the club.

Sure, his weakness for vampires didn't really factor into his life-appreciation outlook (and that was why he knew he shouldn't be here) but he was getting to the point where he didn't give a shit about that, either.  He loved getting drunk from and fucked by some hot undead guy, he loved being made to feel human and even a bit insignificant, despite what it had cost him in his life.  He'd learned a lot of lessons recently, so what if staying away from vampires wasn't one of them?  Tonight was about the club, anyway.  He'd worked his way through as much of the lower floor as he was allowed and then headed upstairs.  There was a point, midway up, that he stopped and stepped up and back on one particular step, fascinated by the fact that the downstairs music was audible on the lower one, the upstairs music blasting him from the higher one, yet there was no melding in between.  How peculiar!

Eventually he tired of that game and walked all the way up, finding a spot against a wall to look around the large, loud space that was the second floor.  When a pair of mortals walked by him buzzing about being let in without an invitation, he grabbed one of their arms and questioned them about it, sensing an opportunity to get Gene out of the house.  When he found out it was true, that the club was letting in more mortals to fill the place up for the vampires they were getting, he raced downstairs to where it was quiet and called his best buddy, telling him to get his ass presentable and to catch a cab to Venture.  Surprisingly, it didn't take too much arguing to get Gene to agree!

Deciding it would be a while yet before Gene got to the club, Dom headed back upstairs with a new bounce in his step.  He moved around the space to get a better look at it this time, wanting to know the layout a little better so he could tell Gene some highlights when he got there.  As he went he sipped his water (there'd been complimentary drinks for the mortals but it was habit for him to drink water until he knew whether or not he'd be drunk from, just in case he met a vampire who didn't want to get drunk while drinking) and looked around, his left fist shoved into the front pocket of his jeans in a way he knew made him look humble but also emphasised his musculature.  There was a lot to look at up here and he recognised quite a few vampires (was that a bad thing?  Probably...) but he didn't approach any.  He wouldn't refuse a conversation if anyone approached him, of course, but he thought it best if he tried to remain unattached until Gene arrived.  Maybe they'd even get picked up together... that would be hot!

[Trillian]

When Ben saw Sebastian, he recognised him as Jenna's new boyfriend.  Perhaps they weren't together anymore, if he was here alone, or perhaps they weren't really together and just going to the odd event.  These thoughts about Jenna and Sebastian flitted quickly through his mind as he watched the ancient approaching him, and the familiar sensation of great age came with him.  Ben expected to be overwhelmed by it, and by the time the other vampire was greeting him, he felt the familiar impulse to accomodate all of Sebastian's wishes.  He'd thought dealing with Themba again that night might have helped him get over this learned behaviour, but apparently not.  It was ingrained in him, to an extent.  At least he was aware of it.

"Good evening," he bid in return, sitting up a little straighter.  "Did you want to join me?"

The invitation came out naturally, sincerely, because it was socially acceptable to invite a recognised face to your table if you were alone.  It wasn't an invitation Ben had cared to give, but Sebastian wouldn't know such a thing unless he pried into Ben's mind.


"Right," Vincent agreed with a bemusement on his face, adoring Owen's put-on expression.  "I'd only expected to train you that night, by the way.  Ending up in my bed was... a surprise," he said, hinting at the fact he believed it was Owen who'd orchestrated this maneouvre.