1x1 with Archaic and empirium

[XLOVEr]

Lucien could practically feel the girl's indecisive thoughts, it was hard not to listen in on her inner turmoil. If he was human, which he'd never known how that felt, he would have been able to sympathize with the woman. Though seeing as he'd never been a human before he didn't know what fear felt like, or well in this case he'd never known what feeling like you've made a big mistake felt like. Maybe at one point he'd felt it but that was far too back for him to even remember how it felt.

Most of his memories were overlapped by his most recent ones, which was why his father and mother had pushed him to write everything down, lately though he'd stopped doing it as nothing particularly interesting happen to permit him writing in it. He'd just been.. hanging around for the past few centuries. Before he'd been doing.. unusual things like getting married, though this was when he was a mere twenty year old vampire. Now a days he could really care less if he were to turn to dust or if the world were to end.

Sometimes Lucien wished the world would end, just to see what would happen and then run to write it down in his journal before everything hit the fan.

He'd also done many other things he'd rather not remember and was grateful for his forgetful habit, seeing as he can't remember anything that happened in the last three decades. And a situation like this one was nothing really out of the ordinary. This girl might get a line in his journal about how pretty she was but other than that he'd probably not write anything more. Now if something interesting happened with this girl and him he'd then write more.

He was silently hoping something would happen, he had nothing to write about lately and was definitely getting more and more bored as the years went on.

Realizing the girl had asked him a question he looked over in her direction. Her question wasn't out of the ordinary, a small attempt to ease her ever conflicted mind with small talk. Many humans did this, which was what made the predictable, words could make them feel at home, make them believe anything. And with Lucien and his ease in persuading humans to do as he wished he easily passed through the 18th century like a flea on a rat.

"I live just outside of town, it's not too far from here," He put it simply. "And my house might be a mess... I have a dog and he likes to eat the furniture if he doesn't get his dog food when I get home. He's quite the pain if i'm being honest. I often wonder why I ever adopted such a turd." He mumbled with a shake of his head, the weight of the dog food in his arms. Which had suddenly appeared which he hoped the girl wouldn't notice. He was quite good at running and getting things faster than the human eye, though only after feeding.

Lucien suddenly wondered how humans had ever survived this long. With all his vampires running about he wouldn't be surprised if all humans went extinct.

[Archaic]

“Oh, a dog?” Alaine perked up slightly. She always did get along better with animals than humans, and it was usually an easier conversation topic to handle too. She laughed a little, adding, “He sounds like a handful. I’ve got a cat, he likes to sleep on my art when I don’t give him enough attention.”

Lucien shifted the large bag of dogfood he carried as Alaine glanced over absently. She was about to open her mouth to ask what kind of dog his “adopted turd” was when she suddenly realized...he hadn’t been carrying anything before. Had he?

Holy crap, she thought weakly. I’m losing my mind. I really am. I know he wasn’t carrying anything...

Her brain wanted to insist he had been lugging the bag around the whole time and she just hadn’t noticed, but...there was no way he could’ve fought off those two thugs with that dogfood on hand.

You know what, don’t think about it. If I don’t think about it I can’t lose my mind over it, right? Right.

They walked in silence for a little while, Alaine trying to figure out whether she should keep talking or not. She liked the quiet. It didn’t exactly feel awkward, either. It was rare she met someone who was comfortable with silence, but Lucien seemed to be fine with it.

It was refreshing, really. She was starting to think he wasn’t so bad—even if he was a bit mysterious—and she was curious to know why he’d have that particular shade of blue paint at his house. Was he an artist too? She felt like if he was it would be too good to be true. Handsome, comfortable with silence, and an artist—not to mention he’d just protected her from two random jerks. To top it all off, even with all that going for him he didn’t appear arrogant at all, at least not yet.

Alaine had long ago given up on ever finding someone special, let alone a soulmate. She would definitely like a soulmate, make no mistake. She’d simply decided early on that she was too different to find one in that modern day and age. Her soul felt...old. To her, anyway. And no one else seemed to understand that.

Shaking her head slightly to clear her mind of all the ridiculous thoughts, Alaine forced herself to think of something else to say. The longer she stayed silent the more her mind wanted to stray to those silly, gushy topics.

“So,” she said gradually, balling her fists in her pockets. “You wouldn’t happen to be an artist, would you?”

[XLOVEr]

Lucien couldn't stop himself from smiling when the girl walking next to him perked up at the sound of him having a dog. Sometimes talking about things that weren't directly about him was easier than talking about himself. One could easily get lost in talking about them self if no one were to stop them.

He'd often faced this when talking to mortals, of course he never really talked about anything he'd done over the past years seeing as it would be very odd for a twenty-something to talking about something that he'd never "experienced". Even though he'd definitely been alive during other times he certainly couldn't talk about.

But dogs were good. He could talk about dogs, and cats if that's what the conversation permitted.

"Yeah animals are crazy like that sometimes, there was this time I had a bird. He was a really tiny thing, I let him fly all around my house. He would always sing to wake me up. Which is actually kind of cute if when I think about it. Too bad he decided to get sick a few years back. He would have loved to meet you."

He made a face at the thought of the bird landing on the girls head, singing loudly as he usually did when he tormented Lucien's guests. "he would have been so annoying though, not as annoying as Pebbles, that dog is a real piece of work."

Before he could continue on about random pets he's had the girl- no Alaine asked him a question he was surprised to hear. He shrugged his shoulders before responding. "Of sorts. I do many different things. Like poetry, writing, I used to paint almost everyday, I love imitating famous artists' works. And some call for the exact paint you need." At this he could practically feel his eye color change. He was interested, so they were now a deep purple, which wasn't often that they were this color.

He couldn't help but to think back to when he imitated Peter Blume's Poppies. It had been an odd experience seeing as he'd never used oils before then. But afterwards he had gotten the hang of it and done many other paintings. One of his favorites was Irises by Vincent van Gogh.

"Infact I have one of my imitations in the walkway of my house, Irises by Vincent van Gogh. Quite a stunning piece if I say so myself." Suddenly realizing he'd been talking all this time he coughed, "But what about you?"

[Archaic]

Alaine smiled slightly at the mention of Lucien’s late bird. She would’ve loved to meet the little fellow—she was just as fond of birds and she was dogs and cats. She hmphed in amusement at the name ‘Pebbles’; she was going to ask what breed the dog was but remembered she’d already asked a question.

Lucien answered it accordingly, and with every word Alaine found her incredulous smile growing. Good gracious, he is perfect.

She’d never tried imitating anyone else’s art before, though she had made a few sketches of paintings she liked; da Vinci was one of her favorites, and she made many sketches off of his own studies on horses. Titian, too, she liked his work. And who was that other guy, the one who painted Wanderer Above a Sea of Fog…? In any case, she preferred to look at the art of the old masters than attempt to copy it. Partially because she knew she’d only get frustrated that she couldn’t get it exactly right.

If that wasn’t the saddest thing about mortality, she didn’t know what was. The fact that in the short time allotted to each man and woman, they couldn’t hardly expect to be able to master anything entirely. If she had a thousand years to live, she would probably spend the first hundred or so years traveling, seeing all the hidden places of the world that few had ever ventured to. After that she would settle down in one of her favorite places and start practicing—practicing and practicing until she knew how to draw everything she wanted to just the way she wanted to. Practicing until she could imitate the Sistine Chapel. Which she’d see during that first hundred years.

But Lucien, now—he looked to be in his twenties, maybe. He must’ve been some sort of prodigy to be able to effectively copy Irises. She probably would’ve had a mental breakdown just trying to get the scaling right.

Alaine tilted her head slightly, covertly eyeing Lucien once more as he spoke. ...There was something peculiar about him. He looked different than he had a moment ago.

His eyes, she realized. They’re purple. Had they always been purple? That wasn’t a natural eye color, was it? Maybe he was wearing contacts?

Wait, did he just ask me—oh, yes, he did.

“Oh, me?” Alaine cleared her throat, laughing a little awkwardly. “I suppose you could say so—I write too, poetry and short stories and the like...I draw and paint a lot, mostly watercolors. I’ve been working with acrylics lately, hence why I need this certain blue...”

Ugh. Her art. That was the last thing she wanted to think about, but now she was thinking about it and arrrgghhh—

A short, frustrated laugh escaped her and she explained, “You see, I’ve been working on this piece for a week—mixed-media, lots of little bits and pieces, took a lot of time—and tonight, I had...a bit of an accident. Long story short, the whole thing’s ruined and I really don’t know why I’m trying to save it because it’ll never be the same and it’s only going to make me depressed when I look at it but I’ve come so far on it I can’t give up now! It’s like reading three quarters of a book then deciding not to finish it—I mean, what’s the point? Why spend so much time on something then just throw it aside? We’ve only got so much time after all, might as well finish what we start...but then again I suppose I’m just being a hypocrite, I hardly ever finish anything. My inspiration is...sort of restless.”

She stopped abruptly, realizing she’d been rattling on about herself for five minutes straight. Shut up, you idiot.

Clearing her throat again, she concluded awkwardly, “You’ll have to show me that imitation of Irises when we get to your house. I’m sure it’s amazing.”

[XLOVEr]

The conversation seemed to be going in an awkward direction, but thankfully they were close to his house. "You see the third house on the left?" He said plainly, "That ones mine," On the outside the house wasn't anything extravagant, nor was it what a stereotypical house a vampire would live in. There were no dungeons or cobwebs, unless he forgot to clean, no freezers with body-less heads or any bats. Just a dog named Pebbles, who was probably chasing squirrels in his sleep, and him.

"If you want I can show you more of my paintings," he offered in the silence. He hoped Alaine would enjoy his pieces but from the sound of their conversation earlier it wouldn't be a problem. Before he could hear the girl's answer he opened the door to a barking Pebbles who decided to greet them at the door. "Don't mind him he's just a turd," He said as he picked up the dog with ease, petting him roughly between the ears before setting him back down on the floor. As the two walked into the entrance of his home he turned the light on to reveal the painting he'd just been talking about.

It was.. extravagant for someone who was supposed to be around twenty years old. He hoped the girl would think nothing of it but could tell from just how beautiful the painting was to human standards she'd probably ask questions. "oooookaay! Now to the paint!" He said steering her away from the painting and up the stairs. His house had no carpet, he hated carpet it was too much work when having a dog who occasionally went potty on the floor. But carpet was ugly so dark hardwood floors were his choice. As they ascended the stairs he suddenly became aware of his tastes.

The stairs were lined with stained glass windows, some he'd stolen from a church out of spite. His house was quite extra. The railing matched the floors, following the curved staircase all the way up. There were two sets of stairs as well, though it was unnecessary he'd always liked how having two sets of stairs in his entryway looked. It made the house seem bigger, even if it was huge.

As they reached the top of the stairs he steered her to the left, down many many doors. Most were empty except for the library he had. Most were bedrooms, there was even an indoor garden... that was never used and definitely had cobwebs. There were about two sitting rooms on this level alone. Downstairs had a formal and regular dining room, a sitting room, and two bathrooms. He had centuries up to this point to decorate the whole house, though he'd only really decorated a few bedrooms, the sitting rooms, and the library.

He even had a room for painting where he also would write when he had the need. "Alright here we are," He said stopping at a seemingly random door. He opened it without hesitation and the slammed it shut. With a uneasy smile, "Opps wrong room." He mumbled awkwardly before going down a door, "Here we are.." He opened the door to the correct room this time. Flicking on the light revealed paints scattered about along with a dozen unfinished canvases. Lucien snatched the blue paint from off the floor, he raised one dark eyebrow. "This what you need?"

[Archaic]

To say his house wasn't what she'd expected was an understatement. He'd sort of seemed like the rich type, so at first she'd expected an elaborate residence. However it looked somewhat ordinary on the outside--if not rather large--so she adjusted her expectations for a somewhat ordinary inside. Wrong again.

If the beautiful hardwood floors, double staircase, and extraordinary paintings were impressive, the stained glass windows were three times so. Alaine had always liked stained glass windows, and Lucien had a whole row of them lining the staircase. She wished she could see them in daytime with the late afternoon sun filtering through--just imagine what beautiful splashes of color they cast on the floors and walls... Walking up the stairs would be like walking up a rainbow.

She shook her head, turning her attention to the dog bouncing around their legs. Smiling and holding out a hand for him to examine, she looked up to focus on the painting her host had just been speaking about. It was a startlingly well-done imitation, that was for sure. No, well-done was an understatement. It looked like it could've been the original, better than the origianl. Was he some sort of prodigy? Alaine couldn't help the tiniest twinge of envy. What she wouldn't do for just an ounce of that talent...

Before she could really get a good look at the painting though--and maybe ask him about the technique or how long it took him--Lucien had hurried them off, away from the painting and towards the stairs. Up they went, and Alaine had to deny herself the luxury of examining the windows any closer as she was too busy keeping up with her host. They reached the top and turned to the left, and she soon gave up trying to keep track of all the doors they passed. This place has so much room, she mused incredulously. What does he do with all of it? ...Imagine all the art supplies and books and cats I could fit in here...

She stopped abruptly to keep from slamming into Lucien as he halted, exclaiming they'd reached the right door; he opened it promptly then just as promptly yanked it shut again, looking a little sheepish. Immediately she wanted to know what was in the room, but she managed to contain her curiosity, scolding herself inwardly. Lucien moved a door down and entered another room, turning the light on as Alaine stepped in after him.

Ah, this must be his studio. She looked around curiously, noticing one half-finished painting in particular and eyeing with interest, only half-hearing Lucien when he spoke again. Realizing he'd been talking to her she blinked, glancing back at him and spotting the tube of paint he held. "Hm? --Oh! Oh, yes, that's it. Thank you."

She took the paint, examining it absently for a moment and adding, "Really, thanks. I'll buy you a new one to make up for it."

Lifting her head she gave him a grateful smile, pausing a moment to look at him now that there was some decent lighting. He was handsome, she had to admit it to herself whether she liked it or not. But even if he wasn't, there was something intriguing about him that piqued her interest. All of the sudden she had the strangest desire to sit down and hear his life story over a cup of hot Russian tea; she had a funny feeling that it was a very interesting tale.

She tried to restrain herself...she'd already taken up so much of his time and she already owed him for saving her and letting her use the paint...it was late, he probably had things to do. But she couldn't help herself. "I don't mean to impose," she began slowly. "And feel free to kick me out if I'm being a nuisance--but I'd love to see some more of your paintings. That imitation downstairs was amazing, you must have worked on it for years."