It's not that bad, we could have died Who: Eric Vartan and Grayson Mudali Where: Heme When: Early afternoon
There were plenty of things Grayson could find to do around Heme - double checking his orders, insuring that he hadn't forgotten anything, checking on the staff, making sure everything was taken care of. Hell, he had a necromancer and a kelpie working as bouncers, both of which were risks on his behalf, but it was working out so far. It would be a lot for any bar owner to handle, much less the only vampire bar in town and the added troubles that went with that.
At the moment, he wasn't doing any of these things. He was sitting in the VIP area of the bar, untouched glass of blood next to him, waiting. Grayson's impatience was a thing of legend, and he was trying not to let it get to him. He was aware that Eric had stopped by the night before, only his work kept Grayson from meeting up with his friend as planned.
Though they'd spoken in passing since learning they were both in this little Michigan town, there was still so much Grayson had to ask his old friend. And, in return, so much to explain. He'd never thought Eric could have gotten dragged into the vampire world as Grayson had, and by all rights Eric should have been dead by now. They both should have been. He'd told Saoirse to be happy she still had the opportunity to know her family and be with them while they were still around. Grayson had the same chance now, and he wouldn't waste it. He couldn't.
His patience - or lack thereof - was rewarded when he saw the cardinal walk into the bar. Smile lighting up his face, Grayson made his way down into the bar proper. "The good cardinal graces us with his presence," he said. "Good to see you, Eric."
There was something to be said here about history repeating itself or old habits dying hard. In life, Eric had spent nearly half his life working in a bar or drinking in one. In death, he had not stepped in a single one. And, yet, here he was again in the nation's first vampire bar two nights in a row. He entered the bar, which was still closed for business. He was certainly getting very sick of fae blood, if he were to be honest, but he considered it as part of his penitence for the sins he had committed in life, as well as thoughts that oftentimes came unbidden.
He embraced his brother-friend as Grayson came down to meet him. Today, his shirt was a rich cardinal red that he hoped might serve as a subtle reminder of his office. While last night had been an interesting event, he had no desire to repeat such any time soon. He had considered wearing his cassock for the evening but decided that was too drastic a measure. His packet of dirt was sewn into his vest, where it rested against his lower ribcage. As a matter of habit, he had chosen to give himself a heartbeat, though that was simply for show.
"And, you, Grayson," he said warmly. "How is the business? I apologize I could not come visit you earlier than this. The parishioners have been...shall I say, rabid in their devotions?" And by that he meant that several believers had come to gape and gawk at the vampire priest. As well as the couple hundred that had come to accuse him of sullying the nature of his work and that he should be burned immediately.
Seeing Eric in regular clothes was actually something of a relief for Grayson. It wasn't that he had issues with what Eric's position was in the church, far from it. Rather, he saw it as a sign that Eric had come here as a friend, not because of something to do with his office or his job. And right now? Grayson could not, would not, say no to spending time with the man who'd once been his best friend in the entire world. Regardless of the time that had passed between them, he would always consider Eric a friend.
Grayson's outfit was simple - black dress pants and a charcoal-grey silk shirt, the sleeves rolled up. The suit jacket was in his office, hanging off the back of his chair, and he saw no reason to grab it before the bar officially opened for the night. Embracing the other man, Grayson took a step back and looked him over, catching that heartbeat. He knew it was one of the bonuses offered by the Cyri, but still a touch offsetting, knowing that Eric was indeed as dead as he was.
"It's the same as always, booming, but we've the novelty aspect to thank for that, I would assume," he said, easy smile still on his face. Of course there were people who came to Heme just because it was a vampire bar, he expected that the moment it opened. And, of course, the protestors, too. "I'm sure they've all got their reasons to see you, some more innocent than others." Gesturing towards the bar, he asked, "Can I get you anything?" He wasn't sure if Eric would accept or not, but it certainly didn't hurt to ask.
Eric had never resented Grayson for choosing vampirism, though he had been upset at the idea that he had lost a friend. Nevertheless, Eric knew that had Grayson not been turned, he would not have even given the Cyri's offer of immortality a second thought. If not for Grayson's turning, Eric would have never given up RiRa's and he would never have met the twins and he would never have been turned. Or perhaps he would still have somehow been turned. God moved in very mysterious ways and perhaps in another world, Eric would have still met the twins and still been turned. Perhaps. But all was as it was meant to be, or so Scripture would have Eric believe.
"That's brilliant," the cardinal smiled as he heard the news of Heme's success. "You have always been the entrepreneur between us. Your family chose very well," he complimented, though every bit was true. Eric had been charming and Grayson had been superlatively business-minded. That was how they worked. "Yes, the novelty seems to attract several people, even those for whom breathing is still a requirement," Eric said dryly, unable to keep the - Eric didn't even know how he felt - distaste out of his voice. He did not blame the young lady for his own weakness, certainly, but she had practically handed it to him on a silver platter. With garnish. And a big, fat sign that said "DO IT."
Snapping out of his momentary reverie, Eric nodded at Grayson. "I'll have a little bit of A-positive, if you will," Eric responded, following Grayson towards the booth, where a glass (presumably for Grayson) sat. He had drank very little tonight, as penitence for what he viewed as a sin. Nevertheless, he wanted to be polite and drink a little with Grayson. Even the Lord ate and drank with his friends when the occasion warranted it, did he not?
Losing a friend in the moment, back in 1935, had been a necessary evil. Hasim had warned Grayson that he couldn't go back to the life he'd led before, at least not right away, and he'd thought he'd prepared himself for that. It was better to leave Eric behind for the moment, and know he'd be safe, rather than risk hurting him. The desire for blood was so strong in their youth - stronger than his craving for alcohol had been. Dealing with both cravings at once when he'd been turned hadn't been pretty; better for Eric not to have seen that at all.
Grayson had just never imagined that, somehow, Eric would have been turned also. Not by Azrael, he'd have known about it sooner, but still, somewhat surreal for him to think about.
"Thank you," he said, inclining his head towards his friend as he stepped behind the bar. Though there were a bartender or two already here that could have poured Eric's drink for him, it was obvious Grayson still knew his way around the place. "You could say I've had a fair bit of practice at it between then and now, still, it hasn't completely prepared me for everything I've seen since opening this place." He raised an eyebrow at Eric's comment, wondering what that was all about, before adding, "It's open to everyone, of course, even the troublemakers." Protestors and rogue vampires alike.
Pouring Eric a glass of A+ with the ease and skill of someone who had been doing this a long time, Grayson brought the glass back to Eric and took a seat with him at the booth. His own glass was here, half-full, and the last thing on his mind at the moment. "So," he said, "where should we begin? Your story, or mine?"
Eric sat down and was quickly joined by Grayson and a glass. He reflected upon his own turning, which had been relatively smooth. Indeed, the hunger had been painful the first few years and it had been difficult to control himself anytime a human passed by. However, his sires had always kept him well-fed...and well-trained. The twins had been watchful of his actions and had kept him in line the entire time. At that point, Eric had already lost track of Grayson and would not hear of him again until he was being briefed on the vampire bar, Heme, and the Azraelan he was requested to court.
Taking a sip of the blood offered to him, Eric chuckled. "I can imagine it poses a certain number of new challenges," he said diplomatically. The same could be said of many vampires, however. Getting used to unlife was difficult and a few weaker vampires or those with negligent sires didn't make it very far or long. "Certainly, my house's instruction poses a some difficulties one has to learn to deal with," he informed Grayson. He enjoyed being a priest, but there were times when self-sacrifice was difficult to deal with. And both Eric's and Grayson's houses were rather prominent in the political circles. "But we do what we must for the betterment of the family, no?"
Spreading his hands on the table, Eric smiled. "I grew old and then got turned into a vampire priest," he joked. "That is my story. I do believe yours might be significantly more interesting and racy than my life in the seminary." Eric had had an interesting time and a lot of things tended to happen in half a century, but his story was mostly like a long, drawn-out course in manners and etiquette. Surely Grayson would have a better story.
Being turned had, in fact, been something of a lifesaver as far as Grayson was concerned. He had never really doubted his ability to dig himself out from underneath the bottle... just when it would get through his head that he needed to actually do it. This? Had been the perfect excuse. Granted, there were moments when he was younger when he had to remember that he couldn't drain every pretty young thing who'd had too many cocktails that evening, but he supposed eveyr young vampire went through that. He hoped, anyway.
He nodded, "I know a bit about the Cyri, and know of a few," though he was quite certain Liliya had been using him for information, the last time they had talked. It hadn't necessarily bothered him, because if you were looking for rumors, a place like Heme was the perfect place to go. You just couldn't take everything you heard as truth, there were just as many lies spread here too. "And exactly. We are - bound, as they say." Grayson was Azrael through and through, rules and all. In truth it wasn't that hard, seeing as he'd always been a decent man to begin with, his personal demons aside.
Grayson chuckled, reaching over to take a sip from his glass. "I can see that part," he said, "even if you're missing the traditional outfit and all." He thought about it for a second, "It does include a long list of various bars and nightclubs throughout the States, this is true. Pick an area, chances are I've had a place there, or close by." One finger traced around the rim of his glass. "It was why Hasim chose me, you see. All Azrael establishments, much like Heme, but of course, without revealing our secret." Or selling blood by the glass like they were now.
Eric tried not to shrug. "The house in Italy reminded me I was to contact a certain Liliya Kennedy, someone's pet or the other," he was overly critical of anybody that was considered a favorite because they had rarely ever earned the favor shown to them other than simply being a pretty face or charming smile. He was certain that there were even more Vyris planted all over Scarlet Oak but he was not actively seeking too many of them out. He cleared his throat. "I should have probably done that first thing," he added dryly. "I suppose it's the one order I've put off." He honestly didn't like very many other vampires, except those in the priesthood - and Grayson, of course. But being a vampire was more of an afterthought when it came to his best friend.
Bound wouldn't be the word Eric used for it. "I suppose it is still considered being bound...but we stepped willingly into this 'bondage,' did we not?" he was being overly philosophical about this, but he couldn't help it. His world was in philosophy and theology and the abstract. "I am prescribed to wear what is appropriate to the occasion. As this is not a visit involving my priestly duties, I am allowed to divest of traditional vestments." Eric wasn't sure why he was talking in such lofty language around Grayson. Perhaps because it had been many, many years since he'd had a casual conversation where he felt like he wasn't taking a test.
Eric nodded as Grayson told him about the preparation for Heme. "In a way, your version of the seminary," he laughed. "Except without the lauds, vespers and kissing feet," he added. Okay, maybe that was an unfair portrait of his rise to cardinal. Then again, it wasn't wrong either. He had had to kiss a significant number of feet, hands and, well, rear ends to make his rise as natural as possible. His own pride had made him stumble quite a few times but he managed. "Well, we know I'm quite obviously a priest...but has anyone been keeping you company these long years?" It was a perfectly innocent question, but Eric still wondered. Grayson had been wrapped up in his work and the drink when they were alive, but he hoped that unlife had given Grayson the chance to find what Eric had had in life...and given up in death.
"Ah, yes, Liliya I know." Grayson's tone of voice was even, seeing as he wasn't really friends with the woman outside of their interactions in Heme. When it came to business, Liliya was not a bad friend to have, but it wasn't like he was going to call her up and ask her to go out for drinks or something after work. Grayson the bar owner and Grayson the social butterfly were two distinctly different people. "Possibly, but I'm sure she'll welcome you to town proper when you do finally get to meet her." Whether she wanted to see him or not, Grayson had no idea of who Liliya might be outside of what she presented to the public.
He nodded, "That we did. I still believe it was one of my better decisions." And it wasn't something he regretted. True, he might not have come to the States had he known he was going to be running a speakeasy when he got here, but likewise that was also not something he would have done differently. "This?" He gestured to Eric and his outfit, "it fits the man I knew all those years ago." The priestly get up - hell, the priestly position - was something Grayson was still getting used to.
Chuckling, Grayson nodded, "In a way. Forces me to remember my place in things, so much temptation." It had taken him some time to settle in, to know that he couldn't - wouldn't - drink every alcoholic beverage made in the place and, on the same token, drink from every drunk floozy that might be thrown his way. At the comment about him having someone in his life, though... a small, almost lazy smile crossed Grayson's face. Saoirse. She wasn't his, he did not know if those feelings would ever be reciprocated, but he'd thought about it. "There's been a few, over time," he said. "If you're talking about recently, well..."
Eric nodded. "I'm sure she's very proper," Eric smiled. "You don't get to be appointed by the Cyri as Queen of the Midwest without some manners." Eric felt himself slipping out of his priestly shell and back into Eric Vartan, before he was turned...except with fangs. It was nice to be around Grayson again. He had absolutely no connection back to his old life. He'd heard that his sister had had seven thousand grandchildren but he had not found the opportunity (or been given one) to go and visit any of them. He didn't have any support to give either, so he simply...forgot. He covered his face with his hands and smoothed his hair back, revealing a grin.
"Being out of my cassock has posed difficulties," he admitted to Grayson with a laugh. There was some strong embarrassment from the night before...and guilt, of course, guilt. What good Catholic didn't have at least a little of that? But if he couldn't tell his best friend, there was no one he could tell. Well, he's told God, but God never answers back in a concrete sort of manner that you could understand the first time. And he needed a vent. "Aye, but I'm not the man you knew all those years ago," Eric added. It was sad, but also true. He wasn't really even a man anymore. "You're still my best friend, Grayson. That hasn't changed."
Leaning forward, Eric grinned. "Oh, so there's been a recently, huh?" They had both been workaholics, slaving away to make money and get the business going. There had been a bunch of girls, but nobody serious for either of them...Mary, for Eric, but it was only for a brief while - an angel that gave him the shadow of a kiss - and then was called back to heaven. It was nice to know Grayson had maybe found someone to share his unlife with. Or...even to keep him company for a while. It was always nice to have someone like that.
Just to see a hint of the old Eric appear on his friend's face was nothing short of a miracle. It had Grayson grinning behind his glass, something like old times. Sure, they might both be defined by their station now - Eric certainly more so than Grayson was - but there was still traces of the men they'd once been in the vampires they now were. And Grayson was fairly certain now that Eric was the only one, aside from his sire, still alive who knew him as a human. An unexpected surprise, but who turns away a chance to hang out with their best friend? "Proper, that's a good word for it," and left it at that, expression saying everything.
He nodded, understanding that thought more than he'd realized he would. "Time changes all of us," he said. "We like to think that it won't, but it does. Some of it's forced," like the fact that he couldn't drink anymore, "some of it's just the fact that time grows you up a bit. Even us." Grayson smiled, "And you're still my best friend. I am quite grateful to get to see you again, you know. I should have come to you sooner."
It wasn't like Grayson had been celibate his entire life, he couldn't imagine doing that. More power for Eric for going that route, Grayson might have been a workaholic but hell, boy needed a social life, too. The look on Eric's face was more or less akin to a teenage girl hearing all the latest gossip. He cast his eyes over the bar, looking to see if anyone was listening in, before continuing. "Perhaps. I'm - well, I'll be honest, I'm not sure where it will go quite yet."
Eric waved a hand dismissively at Grayson's comment about coming to see him earlier. There was the time at the church, but they had not had the opportunity to simply catch up because Eric was performing duties and Grayson was being polite to the lost little lady, as well. Eric paused for a second as he rolled the words around in his head before he said them: "We have all eternity to catch up, my friend," Eric laughed happily. He hadn't been this relaxed in ages. It was always about keeping up appearances and making sure he was representing the Cyri as best as he could. Though he wasn't much to complain. He was certain Grayson was under similar strain.
Eric composed himself and tried to keep a straight face as Grayson looked over his shoulders to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. So it was a secret. Smiling just a little bit, Eric crossed his heart before clasping his hands in front of himself. "I place the Seal of the Confessional upon this conversation," Eric said seriously before grinning at his best friend. "Taking it slow, then? Is she another vampire?" Eric was curious about these things as he had never given any proper thought to women (vampiric or otherwise) since his turning.
Grayson laughed with his friend, holding up his glass in something of a toast. It wasn't like they were back in London drinking wine - or more often, some form of hard liquor - but in the moment, the feeling behind it was just the same. "Indeed we do," he said, taking a sip before setting his glass back down again. "And I hardly think we could cover the span of so many years in a single afternoon."
He definitely noticed the way Eric seemed so serious about it, and that earned him another chuckle. When was the last time Grayson had been to church, their meeting a few days prior aside? Hardly ever, but talking about this with his best friend was always something he could use, seeing as he hadn't had that talk with Saoirse yet, either. "She is," he said, "of my House. Young, too. I've not yet told her of any of my thoughts on the subject, but we are quite close, and I won't lie, I'd rather like to see where things go."
Eric matched Grayson's semi-toast and took a sip of his own glass of blood. He leaned back in his seat, something he hadn't felt free to do in a while either and just...hung out. He twirled the glass in his hand like he had done so many times in years gone. Old habits were quickly reforming and he was quickly recalling old exploits that should very well embarrass him in his position, but there could be no shame when he was here with Grayson.
Crossing himself quickly, Eric pressed his palms together as if in prayer and sighed. "Lord, Father, please forgive my brother Grayson for corrupting minors. I pray he does not know what he does," Eric chuckled and then grinned at his friend. It was all in jest, of course, and Grayson very well knew that. He took another sip of his drink before trying to be a bit more serious. "But, really, I am very glad for you," he smiled happily for his brother-friend. "I wish you the best of luck and...the best of happiness, if both of you so choose that route."
Grayson couldn't help it - he reached over and smacked Eric's arm after he was finished praying. It was lighthearted though, as Gray was laughing and shaking his head at the same. "Honestly, you're going to make me feel bad about it!" he said. "It's not like she's that young." Grayson Mudali was not a cradle robber, so to speak. He paused, "Well, they all are compared to us. Even though you're still a year older than me." And that's all the difference was, in spite of the fact that it looked like it should be more.
"We'll see what happens, I suppose." Truth be told he wasn't sure how interested Saoirse even was, and Grayson was the kind to play his cards close to his chest when it came to that sort of thing. Eric would know, though. What else were best friends for? "But thank you, in advance. I'll let you know how it all goes, if you want."
Eric certainly looked much older than Grayson. An entire decade separated them appearance-wise but it did not bother Eric. He was comfortable with where he was and if the offer had come at a different time in his life, he probably wouldn't have taken it. "And we are young compared to so many others," Eric added. There were several vampires that had lorded their age above him. He'd met a couple that felt ancient, even, though he was probably exaggerating. "It shouldn't matter if we're undead..." Eric trailed off. "I don't think we should still count in terms of human years. We've sort of transcended that."
"Of course," Eric nodded. He wanted to see Grayson happy and be filled with the sense of comfort and joy that a good woman brought into one's life, like Mary had for him. Grayson deserved it for all that he did for both him in life and for the vampire community at large now. Running the nation's first vampire bar was certainly not for the faint of heart. Clearly, Grayson's family trusted him thoroughly. He wished he could say the same for his.
Their difference in appearance didn't bother Grayson, either, just a footnote. Until recently, he had no idea his best friend was still alive, so the fact that he was, and as immortal as Gray himself, it was something to be happy about. "Indeed. I've spoken with some of the elders from my House - hell, even some of the patrons of the bar every night." He gestured to the tables around him. All things considered, they were but babies in the vampire world. "Here's hoping, anyway." He raised his glass in something of a mock toast.
Of course he'd tell Eric - who else would he gossip to? Not that Grayson was one to gossip in the traditional sense of the word, but he couldn't talk about his love life to those he worked with. There were enough talk about him around the bar as it was. To have a friend around was always a good thing, given the stress both of them were under. Grayson was still a bar owner, same as he'd always been, and Eric was now a Catholic Cardinal. My, how things had changed.