moralsandsass (moralsandsass) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-01-06 21:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | elijah mikaelson, william laurence |
Who: Elijah & Laurence
What: Museum adventures
When: Late December
Where: A museum. OBVS. Well, more specifically the Fullerton Museum Home
Warnings: Low
Status: Complete when posted!
While Laurence did have a healthy appreciation for the arts, he wasn’t usually the type to go to an art gallery. But while he’d only been in the Orange County for a short time, things between himself and his father were already tense. His father had never approved of Laurence’s choice of careers, even now, fourteen years later, and conversation was terse and forced.
The Hasting’s were lovely, of course, and Spencer seemed especially easy to talk to despite how much younger than him she was, but had needed an excuse to take his leave of all of them and a new art exhibit seemed like a perfectly acceptable excuse.
The painting didn’t seem as fancy as some of the others on display. A simple boat floated on the calm ocean, painted in the impressionist style, with the sky and its reflection painted in vivid oranges and deep purples, but it stopped Laurence all the same. Something about the painting seemed to speak to him, and to calm him, and he stood for a while in front of it.
Elijah had not originally meant to work in a museum. His interest in history and in learning about things in history he would otherwise never know was part of what started it. It helped him to clear his mind of the drama that came with his family and with his life in general. He enjoyed the work that he did with the museum these days. He enjoyed spending his days surrounded by history, whether that involved artifacts or paintings.
He left his office to do a walk through of the latest art exhibit. It was always a good idea to know what was happening with the exhibits. People did have a tendency to do things they weren’t supposed to do if not checked in on every so often. Of course, that was what they had security for, but it always did well to check on it yourself. Just in case.
Sometimes it was empty when he checked, sometimes not. It all depended. Today it seemed to be mostly empty. There were a few people around the room, but there was only one person who seemed particularly fixated on a painting. He’d chosen them carefully himself, so it always made him pleased to see someone enjoying them rather than simply passing through and looking without truly seeing.
“That one was one of my favorites,” he commented as he stepped up next to the man, taking a moment to quickly glance over. “I’m glad to see somebody else appreciates it as well.”
Laurence hadn’t heard anyone approaching him, but he didn’t look shocked when he turned toward the man who’d appeared at his side. “It’s hard not to,” Laurence said. “The artist did a good job at capturing the mood, I think. They must have spent some time at sea.”
Elijah studied the painting for a moment. “I believe so. I have never had much talent in the way of artwork, but it does bring about a certain serenity.” He remembered choosing the painting. The history of the artist had drawn him in as well as the use of color. “If I recall correctly, he has been quite a few places in his life.” Of course, most of that was circumstance and timing. Being Jewish in the USSR and then a Russian immigrant in Israel had made things difficult artistically speaking. “I’ve seen a few videos on the internet of him doing his paintings. This one was done with acrylic paint and the palette knife. Personally, I can’t fathom the amount of time it would take to finish a painting like this...or really any painting, but I enjoy getting to see so many.” He glanced over at the other man for a moment. “We are having an exhibit on the prohibition era in January. It won’t have things like this, but I can tell you that it will be worth the visit. And, should you have an interest in music, there will be a chance to see some information on the life of Leo Fender.”
A beat. “My name is Elijah Mikaelson.”
“Is that so?” Laurence said, impressed with the man’s knowledge. Though, he supposed, such a thing was only to be expected if Elijah ran the museum. “It must take a great deal of patience in order to create something like this. I myself never cultivated much in the way of artistic skill, but I do admire those who have.”
“I’ll most likely be gone by January,” Laurence said. He was planning on being back on the Reliant a couple of weeks after New Years, though as of yet he hadn’t received his orders for the New Year. “Though if I am still here when you open the exhibit, I would be more than pleased to come. I’m Will Laurence. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Laurence said sincerely, unclasping his hands from behind his back so that he could offer one for a firm handshake.
“It is. I’ve read about him, but I have yet to meet him.” He’d spoken with various others about acquiring the artwork and ensuring it’s safe arrival. It was to be expected. He’d retired from the business side of his work and let his family handle it while he enjoyed his time cultivating art and inspiring emotions in others. “It is interesting to see how others view the world. We could all be in the same place and each see it differently.” It was the same with historical information. You might read a book or be knee deep in research and you could see a historical event entirely different from others. History books wrote things differently. Perhaps not glaringly so, but the details. It depended on the side you were supporting.
“Ah. That would be a shame. It is going to be an exhibit worth seeing. Both of them will be.” While he wanted to, he couldn’t claim that he didn’t have quite a lot of social interaction with people outside of his family. Still, few of those people he would have considered to be friends. This stranger was no different from them, but there was something about the man in front of him that inspired a certain curiosity about him. He reeked of some military training. Or, at the very least, his stance did. The way he held his hands behind his back, the way he stood in general. The accent was easy evidence that he was not from the OC. It wasn’t the most difficult case of deduction and reasoning he’d gotten caught up in.
When he held his hand out, Elijah gave him a hint of a smile, something more in his eyes than on his lips. He, in turn, reached over to shake Will’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you and a pleasure to have you in our humble museum.”
“And do you meet many artists in your line of work?” Laurence asked. He had never been caught up in the celebrity culture side of things, but there were a few artists he was sure would make incredibly interesting conversation partners.
“I’m sad I’ll miss it,” Laurence said, with all sincerity. While he wasn’t terribly interested in the prohibition, he thought it sounded fascinating, and he would have liked another chance to speak to Elijah. He seemed as like a true gentleman, and Laurence would not be opposed to cultivating a friendship with him.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Laurence said, grasping Elijah’s hand warmly. He hesitated a moment, holding on to Elijah’s hand for just a fraction too long before releasing it, but in that fraction he’d come to a decision. “Perhaps you’d do me the honour of showing me some local sights you find interesting when you have the free time. I’m sorry to say I don’t have many friends in the area, and I’m sure I can only impose myself upon my family for so long before they start to get sick of me.”
“Occasionally,” Elijah allowed. “But usually it is a lot of tiresome work with people who had no hand in the creation of the art at all.” He was really more interested in the historical information that came along with it, but it was good to meet someone who could speak to their art that actually knew what they were trying to represent rather than someone making up words and ideas. Of course, he was aware that some artists preferred others to decide interpretation.
It was strange to hear such sincerity in others. True, people did mean what they said sometimes, but he’d grown used to the idea of people saying what they thought he wanted to say or saying things they didn’t mean. He could blame it on his parents, but it was society as a whole, he thought. There were a few rare exceptions and he enjoyed coming into contact with them.
Elijah noted the slightly longer handshake, not entirely certain of what might come next. When Laurence spoke, there was a hint of a smile. It was not an unusual question. It was typical of people who did not know the area. “It’s fine. Friends are hard to come by in strange places far from home. Not everyone is quite so capable of making them as my siblings seem to be.” Rebekah had gone to New York and come back with a new family only to quickly make new friends. Kol and Niklaus never seemed to suffer from a lack of people to speak to. He didn’t imagine himself so tragic as to have lost all ability to gain new acquaintances. “Families will put up with a great number of sins, however. I assure you.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a business card. It seemed he had them in spades. Everywhere. His siblings would likely mock him for it were they here. “As long as I’m not in the middle of putting together an exhibit you’ll find that I’m far more free than I appear. I have staff who can be trusted not to let anything happen in my absence. So I’m sure I can show you around.”
Laurence read over the business card before slipping it into his breast pocket. “Wonderful,” he said, smiling at Elijah. “I will ring you this evening, if you’re free.”
Elijah offered him an easy smile. “As of yet, I have no plans. So you should feel free to call.” He looked over at the painting. “If you like this, I have a few others you might enjoy.” He started to walk away before calling back, “Follow me.”