Hanging at Shades' (Open)
Ysabel sat at a table in the corner of the club, the same one she'd sat at a few nights ago when she'd first come here. This would be the second time this week she would get to see Ambrose play. He didn't much like live gigs, by his own admission, but he had some friends in the business (everyone has friends in the business!). They were a band called the Moochers, and Ambrose had told her he often filled in for them if their guitarist wasn't able to play. That individual been sick all week, so Ambrose was covering.
Although still dubious about rock in general, Ysabel had definitely taken to jazz and blues. Moreso the first time she had come here. The club was named Shades', after its owner. When they'd entered a few days back, Ysabel had at first been put out by the slightly smoky air but the darkness of the club, brightened here and there by a few dim blue lights, appealed to her sensitive eyes. Tables were set fairly close together without being crowded, around a moderately sized dance floor. Against the far wall, just behind the dance floor, was a slightly raised stage. On the left as you entered was the bar, and behind that a set of doors Ysabel assumed led to a kitchen, for the club provided snack-like foods... nothing substantial really, but appetizers and things to nibble on while listening to your favorite local band.
Shades himself might have intimidated Ysabel if she hadn't had so much experience in dealing with people. Even as a man in his apparent 60's, Shades was an imposing figure. He was at least 6'5", muscular in spite of his age, and he moved with a spring and an energy that belied his tightly-curled, greying hair. He was of African-American descent but anyone would have been hard-pressed to know exactly where he came from. His voice held no discernable accent. He was never seen without his trademark sunglasses, and it was no secret among the vampire community that Shades was one of them - although no one seemed to know when he'd been turned or who had turned him. The club's name was not just a reference to its owner, but a small tribute to their race as well.
Shades, Ambrose had told her, almost never forgot a face or a name. Ysabel found that to be true. When she'd entered the club for the second time, without Ambrose who'd gone around the back to meet the Moochers there, Shades had greeted her himself and brought her to the same table she'd been at before. He treated her like a good friend and Ysabel couldn't help but imagine that if she'd been in a bad mood when she'd walked in, Shades' attitude would have dispelled it immediately.
The quiet popularity of the club was a tribute to its owner. Ysabel liked it here. She had heard Shades play last time she was here, and although she couldn't have said before that she was particularly fond of the saxophone, she was willing to rethink her position on the subject. She was hoping to hear him play again tonight, perhaps between sets.
She sat quietly, as she had done before. The waitress seemed nervous; perhaps she was new. Ysabel politely ordered a glass of white wine, doing her best to put the poor girl at ease. She probably had no clue that she was standing in the middle of a vampire-run club, but in truth there couldn't have been any safer place. Shades' rules on the subject were clear: humans on the premises were off-limits, whether working or patronizing. The club may be dimly-lit and smoky, but the discreet bouncers missed nothing, and kept a sharp eye out for any sort of trouble.
((ooc: Ambrose's views with permission.))
Hiding her smile behind a drag on her clove she blinked at Ysabel, now that was some kind of dedication to your job. It had to cost a fair amount in time and money to get an accurate historical wardrobe, but she let the subject drop.
She half laughed at Dani’s observation.
“I think we’re all guilty of that. We live here so it’s easy enough to just assume that it’ll be here tomorrow or next weekend or whenever. Maybe I’ll tag along with you on one of these tours, could be fun.”
House hunting, that was interesting. Apparently she was spending –far- too much time locked up if she was missing even clan happenings, but it wasn’t something she could ask about right now.
There was no good way to ask about Gimpy, how they’d met, how long he’s been playing, why she hadn’t tried to kill him and biased on her own personal experience it was hard for her to imagine him teaching anyone or even going out of his way to expose them to new things. Pak simply couldn’t see passed her own bias in this instance.
“Savoring is a good thing I think and it is hard to savor with someone screaming at you and calling it music and then if you can’t hear the next day…”
Pak’s thought trailed off and she half smiled. No, unlike Dani she didn’t want to slow life down, but then again she was using a different timeline and it wasn’t a fair comparison.
Ysabel turned back to Dani and addressed her question, putting the issue of whether or not to try to intercept Ambrose before the inevitable explosion on the backburner for the moment. "You can arrange for a tour any time you like," she said, "but if you'd like to hear yours truly, it will have to be on a Friday or a Saturday, at night."
She decided to elaborate, since she was fairly enthusiastic about her part-time work, and enjoyed it a great deal. "The particular script they hired me for deals with the metaphysical aspect of Nachton's history; the ghost stories and urban legends, if you will, that are associated with some of the city's older homes. As a result, perhaps to set the mood, they only offer those tours at night. If you can make it though, and if you're not spooked too easily, they're great fun."
She offered up a little grin. "Between the gown and a bit of makeup to make me even paler, the effect is quite ghostly when I'm holding a candle or a lantern."
Add in a bit of the ethereal and a tiny bit of artistic levitation, and she'd been told by both tourist and boss alike that of all the tour guides she was the most haunting. Ysabel enjoyed the opportunity to indulge in her flair for the theatric, although she was careful enough and used enough to her abilities to be able to give the impression that they were tricks and lighting, nothing more.
As the conversation moved on to the music, she found herself nodding along with Pakpao. "I was raised to have more refined tastes in music," she said a bit primly. "My parents insisted on nothing but classical, and my lessons and my sister's involved nothing but." Granted, there wasn't anything but classical at the time, but Ysabel had a feeling Elsa still would have insisted on that, regardless of the year. "I cannot comprehend that such screaming could by considered music by any stretch of the imagination."
“I’m definitely interested, wouldn’t miss it.” Turning to Pak, she added “I’ll email you?” She gave Ysabel her nose crunching smile. “And I don’t think I scare –too- easily.”
The discussion moved on to music and she listened in suppressed amusement to Ysabel’s stated tastes. She couldn’t help but think of some of the kids in the co op at Berkeley who had gone a little wild after too many years of ‘strictly classical education’. She couldn’t fault parents for good intentions but too often their kids ended up being insufferable snobs or crazy and rebellious. Fortunately for everyone Ysabel seemed to be neither of those things.
“I suppose upbringing has a lot of impact on musical tastes – my parents had a diverse collection and so I like most everything.” She gave a little shrug. “Kind of makes you wonder what the screaming kids heard at home.”
The waitress she’d been hinting at earlier came over and Dani ordered a water, finding that while the smoke didn’t bother her it did seem to dry her out a little. Then she leaned back a little so that the others could get a clear view to make their orders, if they wanted anything.
Pak nodded at Dani. They could maybe get a few of them to go, it would probably be highly entertaining for a bunch of vampires and people who knew about them to hear about supernatural history.
“Defiantly, it sounds like a plan. Pop history can be fun.”
It wasn’t a slight by any means, it was just that to Pak’s mind there was hard history and light history, the fun borderline academic stuff that was entertaining as much as educational.
More music. Not one of Pak's strong suits, she liked the math involved in it but other than a slight inclination towards Pink Floyd from time to time she was very eclectic, what ever fit her mood.
The idea of influencing children with musical choices… no. No, she forcibly shut off that train of thought, Pak wouldn’t have any of it not right now.
She shook off the waitress, changed her mind and asked for another pint of the same.
“Probably impossible to say, some of them might only have heard classical and be rebelling and some of them probably grew up with rock… I wonder if rocker’s children listen to Bach to rebel?”
The idea of rockers' children listening to classical to rebel struck another humorous chord for her, and through a soft chuckle she said, "That could very well be. I'm not sure I'd let that idea become common knowledge though; the next thing you know you'll have parents trying to use reverse psychology and raising their children on heavy metal with the intention of sparking a classical-music-rebellion in them at a later age."
If Ysabel had seen anything throughout the years, it was that parents could do some odd, odd things with their childrens' best interests at heart.
"I believe I can at least safely say I am not rebelling," she added with an air of amusement. "I think in my case I'm just the opposite of you, Dani." She lifted her shoulders. "Perhaps I was just a little more sheltered. My parents tend to be somewhat rigid in their own tastes. I don't know what they would say if I brought them here."
That idea was equally amusing to her, and her blue-grey eyes danced at the thought of trying to make Richard and Elsa comfortable here. Although if anyone could manage, Shades could. The nightclub's owner definitely had a knack for that sort of thing.
Shaking her head at the waitress, Ysabel indicated her not-yet-empty wineglass and took a sip, eyeing the stage speculatively once more.
“Nothing wrong with knowing what you like.”
She was pleased that Pak was indeed interested in making plans, and turned to her as she picked up her purse from between her feet.
“Great! I’ll shoot you an email and we can plan.” She stood, explaining. “I need to get going – I’m about to turn into a pumpkin. Looking forward to seeing you both again soon!”
With that she turned to the bar to settle her tab and then head home to crash – while she was pretty close to nocturnal, being a familiar, she –did- have daytime duties for exactly that reason.
/ooc Dani out pending responses
Ambrose was finishing his set, and Ysabel could practically feel his scowl from where they sat. Offering the same curtsey to Pak, who was standing to follow behind Dani, she glanced again at the stage and decided it was about time to head in that direction.
With a little wave to Shades himself, who had given her permission to use the back door to meet Ambrose after his shows, Ysabel excused herself and went to try to improve her prickly lover's mood before he took it out on the poor guitarist.
((ooc: Ysabel out, permission to move Pak))
Pak almost laughed when Dani said she was going to turn into a pumpkin, not quite but almost it wound up being a half smile.
Dani was right though she should go too, maybe get a couple hours work in that would be good. Although she didn't feel like it. Maybe no one would notice if she didn't show up, she just have a ton of e-mails to deal with the next night. No, that would be bad, best to go in.
Nodding to Ysabel's curtsey.
"Nice to meet you."
As she moved to the back that settled it she was with Gimpy. God only knew why but she was. Maybe she was a familiar, that would make a lot of sense. Not that it mattered to her in the slightest he could keep all the niave impressionable young things he wanted.
Downing the rest of her beer she stubbed her clove out and left.
((OOC... Pak out. Lock please))