Who: Kanan and Klaus What: Random encounter turned business opportunity When: Sometime this past week Where: Random bar Rating/Warnings: Low! Status: Complete!
Things were starting to look up for Niklaus. At least as far as his business was concerned. He had rented a space for his new gallery. Now it was just a matter of finding the right artists for the opening, promoting the gallery, and of course setting it all up. However, on the dream and family front? His life was a mess. He hadn’t had any dreams since he woke up to his horse Theo’s head in his room. But not long after that Freya had gotten her powers and they were causing some serious side effects. Klaus had been keeping a close eye on her, barely letting his older sister out of his sight. He couldn’t keep an eye on Freya forever though, so eventually he let her have some space. But he still made her check in every hour.
With everything that had been going on in his personal life, Klaus’s drinking was more prominent than ever. Which was precisely why he was spending the evening in a bar. He made his way towards the first empty stool. He ordered himself a scotch, neat and observed his surroundings. That was when he spotted a man with large aviators walk in, using a cane to feel out the environment. It was blatantly obvious the man couldn’t see. While there were people out there who thought Klaus was a selfish asshole he did have a few decent bones in his body. “There’s an empty stool over here,” he called out to the guy. He figured the man had the whole enhanced hearing and other senses thing that he heard was common in people who were blind.
Klaus wasn’t wrong. Kanan was relying more on his hearing than he ever did before he’d lost his sight and he did find that heard a lot better than he had before as well. Or maybe it was just because he didn’t have the distraction of sight that he just noticed things with his ears. Primarily the way certain things sounded, how they echoed (or didn’t echo) depending on what was nearby them.
The sense (if you wanted to call it that) that really picked up the slack, though, was The Force. It was working in ways Kanan had never even considered – or again, maybe it had always worked that way, but Kanan had been too distracted to notice. It told him things that neither his eyes nor his ears ever would have been able to. And when he was in situations in which there was far too much stimuli to make heads or tails of things (like a crowded bar, for example), the Force acted as a kind of balm, calming him, helping him pick out what was important and what wasn’t. Like a voice calling to him from across the room and notifying him there was an empty stool.
He raised a hand in acknowledgement and made his way towards the bar. He still wasn’t quite skilled enough to avoid everyday hazards, like tables or chairs blocking his path, hence why he used the red and white cane to navigate his way towards the man’s voice and what he hoped was the bar. It took him a little longer than most, but he was getting better with the cane and soon he was at the bar, right next to Klaus and feeling for that empty stool. “Thank you,” he said gratefully once he’d found the stool. “I probably would have been searching forever for some place to sit.” He smirked. “And here I am now with prime real estate right at the bar.”
“No problem,” Klaus replies with a nod. Not that the other guy could see it but still. “Klaus,” he added introducing himself. Might as well since the guy was going to be sitting next to him for the time being. Klaus had no plans to leave anytime soon and since the other man just arrived he assumed he would be around for at least one drink.
“Kanan,” The Jedi responded with a nod towards the other man’s voice. He folded up his cane and put it away in a messenger bag slung over his shoulder before taking his seat at the bar. He was cautious when he sat, hands carefully moving over the bar to make sure no one had left an empty glass or bottle that he may accidentally knock over later. “Pleasure to meet you Klaus.”
Kanan did plan on having at least a few rounds that evening. When he’d first lost his sight in May, Kanan’d had difficulty adjusting. The first several weeks had been spent recovering from the injury to his face and eyes that had made him blind in the first place. After that, though, the idea of leaving his house had been simply terrifying. York (and later Carolina when she had returned from her mission) had encouraged Kanan to get out of the house and not give up on his independence. It had been slow going at first and Kanan had done his fair share of resisting, had gotten angry at them, but both of them hadn’t given up and had refused to let him give up. Even Jane Shepard, Kanan’s boss, had found a new job for him. It was a little sneaky and a little covert, and had forced Kanan to quickly get comfortable in crowded places.
He wasn’t working tonight, though. And Carolina and York would have been proud to know that he’d gone out on his own to a bar for a few drinks. Be a little social, even if he still hid behind his sunglasses. Baby steps, here.
“What are you drinking?” Kanan asked.
Niklaus watched as the man took his seat. Klaus hadn’t been around many blind people, or any really. So he had nothing to measure this man’s actions against but with how cautious the man seemed to move it seemed to Klaus that he might not have been blind for long.
“You as well, Kanan.” Not exactly the most common name, but then again Klaus wasn’t all that common of a name either.
“Scotch,” he replied picking up his drink and taking a sip as he did. “What’s your poison?” Granted he could have just waited for Kanan to order to find out but making conversation seemed the better, more polite, option.
“Hm,” Kanan mused thoughtfully. A scotch on the rocks sounded pretty good, but not quite what Kanan wanted. “Whiskey I think tonight.” When the bartender came over to take his order, Kanan asked for a Jack Daniels and Coke and opened a tab. He had every intention of enjoying his evening.
When the glass was placed on the, Kanan wrapped his hands around it to get a feel for the glass and it’s position in front of him. And in the spirit of making conversation, asked, “what do you do, Klaus?”
Good choice. Klaus was just in the mood for straight liquor this evening. But then he was in the mood for that a hell of a lot lately. That’s what happened when you dreamed of being a vampire and your fucked up family, apparently. Not to mention being in the vicinity of his real life fucked up parents. Which he still refused to see. But that was beside the point.
Kanan’s question brought him out of his thoughts. Back to the moment. He was sitting in a bar with a blind man who seemed nice enough. “I’m in the process of opening an art gallery,” Klaus replied taking a sip of his drink. “And yourself?”
“I work for a friend of mine,” Kanan answered. “And I do basically whatever she tells me.” He laughed lightly before taking a drink. “But I can’t complain. It’s good work and I’m lucky to have it. I used to work in imports, but when this happened,” he tapped the brim of his glasses to indicate going blind, “I wasn’t able to do that anymore, so she was nice enough to give me a job. Nothing quite as big as opening an art gallery,” he went on. “That sounds like a big job.” He frowned slightly. “I’m not an art aficionado or anything.” He really only knew about famous pieces that everyone knew about: The Mona Lisa, Starry Night, Venus de Milo, the Scream. But he liked art. Or he had. “And I guess I’ll never have the chance to be one now, either. It’s kinda too bad. I liked the works that seemed to have stories behind them. The ones that you look at and everyone else seems to have a different interpretation about what it means?”
The fact that he stated before this happened proved that Klaus’s assumption was correct. His blindness was recent. Or at least it had happened in his adulthood, since he doubted the guy worked in imports in his youth. “What does your friend do?” It was a bit suspicious that he hadn’t mentioned the exact profession.
Klaus never imagined he would talk to a blind man about art, but here he was. He felt bad that Kanan would never get to appreciate the beauty of it again. At least not with his eyes. “Exactly,” Klaus agreed with a sip of his drink. “That’s the great thing about art. Everyone has a different opinion. There is no right or wrong.” It was a great way to start conversations too. Plus if you asked Klaus, you could tell a lot about a person by what they saw in a piece. “That’s a shame,” he added referring to the fact that Kanan could never see it again. “What about sculptures?” He could feel those at least. He could feel and see in his own way, the beauty and technique in them.
“She works security,” Kanan said, which was mostly true. Kanan wasn’t a member of the actual organization Jane Shepard was in, he worked directly for her and her alone gathering intelligence and information in his very specialized way. But from what he could tell the organization was responsible for keeping people in Orange County safe from the Weird when it happened and if that wasn’t the sole definition of security Kanan had no idea what was.
He couldn’t really say anything more about it simply because he didn’t know, so he turned their conversation back towards art, since that’s what Klaus seemed to know a lot about. “That’s what I think too,” Kanan nodded in response to Klaus confirming that everyone had a different way of interpreting piece and there really was no right or wrong answer. “Art is meant to be enjoyed, right? Get people thinking and talking? That’s what I think anyway.” Not that Kanan’d had a lot of opportunity to talk about art with other people. His brows furrowed in thought when the other man mentioned sculptures. “I’m not sure,” he said after taking a thoughtful sip of his drink. “I’ve never really tried touching a sculpture. Aren’t there, like, rules against touching them?”
Klaus’s passion in life was art. The worst thing that could happen to him would be to go blind and not be able to see how all the colors blend and work together to create a piece. “That’s what I think as well,” Klaus agreed although he had already stated as much.
As far as sculptures went. “I think it depends where you are. Museums, definitely no touching. Some galleries might allow it.” Actually that gave Klaus a good idea. “Perhaps in my new gallery I can have a section with art that is more interactive. Hands on.” Something everyone could enjoy. Whether they could see it or not.
Most museums probably would frown on visitors putting their grubby hands all over priceless pieces of art. Kanan had been to a few museums in his life. He hadn’t had what most would have thought an orthodox education, but he liked to consider himself fairly cultured. All the museums he’d been to usually had their exhibits and displays either behind glass or roped off in a manner that made sure visitors looked with their eyes and not their hands.
Unfortunately looking with his hands (and his ears and the Force…) was how Kanan saw these days. Kanan didn’t know many other blind individuals, but he thought that was probably how they saw as well. “Interactive art,” Kanan mused thoughtfully sipping on his drink. He liked that idea. “A section in which people like me can put their hands on, or maybe something we can hear.” Kanan nodded. “You’d be surprised how much I rely on my ears. But, I think that’s a great idea. It would be great for people like me, plus it’d make your gallery more unique.”
Klaus wasn’t all that surprised. He had assumed Kanan had good hearing. It was why he called out to him when he entered the bar. Still art you could hear was an interesting idea. Klaus was certainly going to have to look into it. An interactive section would definitely make his gallery unique. It was something his gallery back in New Orleans didn’t have. Niklaus was doing his damndest to outdo his old gallery. Show Marcel who was the best once and for all.
“It might be a good idea to get your opinion on it once it’s ready. Or in the process at least,” Klaus commented. Because really what did he know about being blind? Sure he could close his eyes but he didn’t think that would have the same effect.
Kanan was pleased that Klaus liked his idea and seemed to genuinely want to incorporate an interactive section to his gallery. Kanan would like to be able to enjoy something normally seen with the eyes without having someone explain what was going on in front of him. That was all well and good, but Kanan found it kind of took away from the intended experience. Getting to “see” something with his hands, experience it first hand and make his own opinions about what the piece was supposed to be or represent rather than someone explaining it appealed to Kanan a lot.
He was also incredibly flattered that Klaus, who Kanan believed knew way more about art than he did, wanted his opinion. “Really? Yeah, of course. I’d like to help if you think I could.”
Klaus didn’t know any other blind people. Was that rude to say? Probably. Which was why he kept that part to himself. Niklaus was often considered rude, an asshole even, but when that side came out there was almost always a reason for it. Now, there was no reason. Kanan had done nothing to piss him off. Why would he want to offend someone that could possibly help him with an aspect for his gallery?
“You’d know better than me.” Klaus had the art part taken care of. Or he would have the art part taken care of, once he started looking into it. He just had to make sure someone without sight could actually enjoy it. He pulled out his about to hand it over when he remembered - Kanan couldn’t see. How was he supposed to put his number in? “You got a number?” he asked instead.
To be perfectly fair, here, Kanan didn’t know a lot of other blind people either. At least none that could be considered friends by any stretch. Carolina had gotten him classes which taught him how to properly use the White Cane and he’d met several people with varying degrees of blindness. He’d gotten friendly with a couple of them, kept in touch time to time, but it wasn’t anything more than ”Hey, how’s it going? It rained here last weekend…” kinds of conversations. He had his friends in Orange County. Those who Dreamed. For some reason, they were easier to talk to about life.
But, all that notwithstanding, Kanan was easy to get along with. He liked Klaus, liked that he was so open to exploring an opportunity to make even a small part of his gallery interactive, give those who could not see the chance to enjoy art like he could. It would have been easy for him to shrug and just say “Oh, that’s too bad” and be done with it. In Kanan’s opinion, Klaus was an alright kind of guy and he was happy to help out any way he could.
“Yeah, I do,” Kanan nodded and gave Klaus his cell number. As he did, he shifted his position on his stool so he could get his phone from his back pocket. “You mind giving me yours?” He asked with a grin, “that way my phone can tell me who’s calling.”
Klaus hadn’t even thought of that. But then he hadn’t thought of a lot of things that this conversation seemed to be leading to. This was all new for Klaus. But he was never one to shy away from something new. “Probably a good idea,” Klaus replied with his usual smirk, not that Kanan could see it. He accepted the phone from the other and putting in his number, saving it as Klaus Mikaelson.
“Here you go,” Klaus said setting the phone down on the bar in front of Kanan. He didn’t just want to shove it into the man’s hands when he couldn’t see it coming.
Kanan couldn’t see Klaus’s smirk, but he could hear it on the edges of his voice. A casual kind of tone, one that seemed to come naturally and he guessed this was probably Klaus’s usual kind of tone. It was an important distinction to make considering Kanan couldn’t read facial expressions anymore.
“Thanks,” Kanan felt around for his phone for a brief moment before locating it and putting it away in his pocket. He then located his glass and picked it up to salute Klaus and take a drink.