Lunch part 3

Posted on Sat Jul 27th, 2024 @ 13:26 by Alastair Temple & Liana Zhao

Chapter: Besieged
Location: "The City"
Timeline: Around noon, Saturday 30th January
4504 words - 9 OF Standard Post Measure

It's a good thing that Liana didn't wait for Al to pull out her chair, since it took him far too long to remember that that was a thing gentlemen did. So he just kinda awkwardly stood there for a fleeting moment before he too moved on, and took off his gloves and coat, before sitting down. At her offer he inclined his head a bit, thoughts racing through his mind. 'Love of his life'? Yeah, Omen mattered to him. A great deal. But - in the end, she was 'just' a car. It. It was just a car. Honestly, he felt that his custom, Alastair Temple signature Ibanez PL1770 guitar was more important to him, nearer to his heart, than Omen was. These were thoughts he didn't vocalize though, as doing so would diminish the words he'd chosen as reply.

"I can let you drive, sure. But I'll just have an irn bru," he offered with a soft smile.

"I don't think I'd trust myself in this weather, on those roads, with the amount of weight she'll have to deal with." Liana had no intention of pulling him away from the steering wheel, having been more interested in the opportunity to tease him further than usurping him from the driver's seat. Whilst she could drive, she honestly didn't often, and had arrived in Jessica's car rather than owning one herself. The apartment she owned was city-bound enough that parking was prohibitive and there had been no where she'd needed to go that couldn't be accessed via public transport. It was an issue she may have to address eventually if her time at Avalon extended as it appeared set to, but Liana honestly enjoyed Alastair's control over his vehicle and would have considered it a form of self-punishment to exchange positions.

The twinkle in the brunette's eyes was the only reaction to his choice of drink, considered brave and possibly partially-unwise by some. Liana's gaze dipped towards the menu, which she was still reading when the waitress returned to take their drink order. "Can I have a dash of lemon to some sparkling water," she eventually ordered, her eyes already wandering down to peruse the entrees. Whilst the waitress left to prepare the drinks and left time for consideration of what to eat, Liana pressed her index finger against her lips in thought and talked through her difficulties. "When I first saw this place, I was craving a lobster bisque, but the scallops are enticing." If she'd noticed Alastair's discomfort, she hadn't said a word about it, or even hinted that she held any expectation in regards to prior experience with this kind of food. "Their carvery menu is also distracting." An entire section of the menu was dedicated to meats other than seafood, and Liana looked genuinely plaintive at the idea of having to choose. "Forget driving home, you may have to roll me to the car at this rate."

"Suit yourself," Al quirked a brow, still that soft smile on his features. He would've let her drive, but if she didn't want to, he would respect that too. The offer was made, and it would remain open, in case she needed to in the future. She was right though, he wouldn't let just anyone drive Omen. But then, she wasn't 'just anyone', was she.

If he felt at all uneasy in a place like this, he didn't show it. Perhaps his natural confidence in his own self was the reason he seemed relaxed. Perhaps it was because he was patterning his own posture and behavior on hers, as someone who understood this kind of place better than he did. Or perhaps he was just someone who didn't stress things like that, and wasn't going to let a slightly more up-town restaurant than he was used to rattle him. For now though he seemed self-assured and laid-back enough. Deep down, he could handle the atmosphere as long as there was something familiar and comfortable for him to hold on to. His present company. And his choice in food.

"I'll have the steak menu myself, the number six," he mused, setting the menu aside. It was a complete course, with entree, main course and dessert.

It took until their drinks arrived and Alastair had placed his order for Liana to succumb to the need to make a decision. "Is it possible to add the bisque to the Seafarer's Sanctuary?" The names of the preset options were a little on the quaint side but Liana would forgive them if the food was as good as it sounded. "No, keep the scallops," she chuckled along with the woman serving them, who seemed to recognize an indecisive appetite for what it was. "I won't need dinner for the next week but I doubt I'll have any complaints."

As the menus were taken from them, Liana reached for her drink and savored the first taste of refreshing bitterness. For all she had a tendency to skip meals far more often than was healthy, there had never been anything wrong with her appetite and it spoke to her own level of comfort that she felt no embarrassment adding a fourth-course to her lunch. Recovering her manners a sip too late, she held her glass across the table towards Alastair for a customary clink. "To spending the last couple of hours in peace." As the political situation ramped up, it was unlikely to remain easy to go unrecognized, especially as Avalon was poised to be thrust back into the limelight again for all the wrong reasons, but it had been nice to dabble in anonymity for a while, even if it was only fleeting.

"To peace, with a dear friend." Clink They'd sat down for lunch, that was the plan, but with the amount of food they ordered, it would last them at least the day and whatever 'dinner' they'd have would probably just at most be a light snack. A sip from his very unsophisticated drink, letting the taste linger as he sat back and looked around a bit again. This time though, his expression subtly shifted as he did, though he quickly recovered. "This is a nice place," he began, turning his attention back to his company. "If the food is as good as the atmosphere, we'll have to come back here some time."

"It's similar to a place my father worked once," Liana mused, having already reached the conclusion whilst they waited in line. "One of the better privileges of growing up with a chef is the opportunity to volunteer as a taste-tester." A fond smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. "Of course, that can quickly become one of the downfalls. He has leaned into his gourmet sausage production since moving to Germany, I'm sure he has probably found a way to squeeze a scallop inside of one by now." Her fingertips toyed with the condensation around the base of her glass and Liana found herself confiding softly, "He had thought about visiting over the break but... Well, I think I've convinced him the timing isn't the best."

Oh great, a chef as father meant very refined tastes. And here he was, considering fries with mayo a good, honest meal. The low key irony of the dichotomy, the contrast between the two of them that seemed to extend to almost every aspect of their beings, their lives and their upbringing brought a smile to one corner of his own mouth, to mirror hers. Opposites attracted, indeed. He reached a warm hand over to rest on hers for a moment, giving a soft squeeze before pulling back just a bit, but leaving his hand within reach. "Yeah, probably a smart call. What with how the sociopolitical wind is blowing I don't know if Avalon will be as safe a haven as originally I believed it to be, going forward." and there they were, back on the dour subject of politics again.

"Papa is a vocal man at the best of times." There was something about the way Liana's lips twitched that suggested she was employing a degree of understatement. "His intention is always full of heart but that doesn't make it helpful." The prospect of trying to navigate her responsibilities whilst putting out the spot-fires left behind by a burly, ginger-haired German with a natural speaking volume several notches above average was tiring enough purely as a concept, let alone putting it into practise. "Did you ever play in Germany?" The topic switch was intentional, which accounted for the abruptness of it, but Liana was legitimately interested in the response. Alastair's music was much like her father's taste, she hadn't found a way yet to drop the reference into conversation though. He was an astute man and she wasn't quite ready for his teasing.

"Oh, we have. More than a few times. Berlin, Hamburg, Leipzig, Munich ..." His pronunciation of the German city names was nigh spot on. A smile on proto-hipster features, though it soon took on a melancholy tinge, reminded of the good times with friends lost. Still, he didn't mind. These mixed feelings and nostalgia were a fertile ground for the music he was working on, even now, the creative process taking place in the back of his mind. "Turns out metal is quite big in Germany. Bigger than here in the UK. We got a majority of our album sales in countries like Germany, Sweden, Norway and Finland. That's where our fans are so that's where we toured," beat. "Your father's from Germany, right? He might've even heard of us, seen a poster or something."

"I'm expecting as much," Liana nodded. "From what I can tell, your music is very much his style. He'll be the one parent that won't have any qualms about our collaboration." With a chuckle and a faint shake of her head, Liana at least didn't seem overly concerned about her mother's reaction, perhaps because it wasn't predicted to be much different to the same general attitude she'd been navigating all her life. "Did you ever play Korea?" Her tone sounded less hopeful in this regard but she wasn't hanging her participation on her mother's approval. Of far more interest was digging into Alastair's experiences, as much as he was prepared to share them.

"No. Metal isn't very big in Asia in general. Furthest from home we've ever played was Argentina and Brazil," he explained, matter of fact-ly. "Our 'world tour', we called it. Seventeen gigs in Europe, two in South America," a chuckle. The tidbit of information that his band's music had been her father's style was quietly filed away. It did explain some things though, why she liked the melancholy side of classical music - for instance. Truth be told, while on the surface metal and classical were diametrically opposed, in truth they shared many root similarities. Metal - especially the melodic and symphonic flavors - took a lot from classical in structure and composition. Another glance to the opposite end of the space, behind Liana, and a brow furrowed. "There's a photographer, taking pictures of us."

It was such a stark deviation from the easy-going nature of their banter that it took Liana a moment to realise that Alastair was being serious. The smile on her face drained away slowly, replaced eventually by the gradually-dawning concern of a mutant surrounded by potentially-hostile adversaries at a time where not a lot of public sympathetic swung in her direction. "What do you mean?" It wasn't a very precise question, because obviously Alastair's statement had spoken for itself. Liana's intent was more aimed at querying the why than the what. She was also trying not to squirm under the impulse to turn around and look for herself.

Al looked behind Liana again, not even trying to hide it, focusing on the person with the camera. Realizing he was spotted, the photographer gave a nod and raised his glass, the nod at least returned by Al. "Just a paparazzo," Alastair offered, his rich baritone rumbling. It made sense really, there was a record label and a recording studio within a stone's throw of the restaurant they were at, so this was a hotbed for scoops in the music world, and he was a moderately renowned musician that had gone semi dark for a few years. He'd been living life as a hermit after Robert and Sylvain's accident and this was arguably his first appearance in the public eye not limited to a sleepy township in the countryside. "Don't worry about it," he added with a smile and a wink, even as the waitress came with their entrees.

It took a split second longer than she was strictly comfortable with for Liana to work out what was going on. The first thing she registered, even before properly comprehending why, was that Alastair didn't seem overly worried and that was enough to relax the tension that had already set across her neck and shoulders. It took a moment of staring at him whilst their food was placed in front of them for her to run with the term paparazzo all the way to the understanding that, rather than an intrusion by possibly combative forces, this was nothing less than a feature of Alastair's life, or at least it had been once. Realisation lit up her features, the slow dawning of a warm smile stretching until the sparkle that reached her eyes took on a slightly mischievous glint. Reaching out, Liana unfolded her serviette and surveyed the generous helping of steaming soup in front of her with relish before dipping her spoon in, intentionally opting for the ridiculously formal method of scooping away from herself. With the twitch of her eyebrow, she caught Alastair's eye and also cocked her pinky finger.

Alastair's eyebrow raised as he watched her display the prim and proper high class mannerisms one would expect in a fancy restaurant - fancier even than this - and a rogueish smile spread across bearded features, even as he tried to replicate what she was doing. With a modicum of success. A guitarist's manual dexterity came in handy in manipulating a gentle, elegant touch on utensils.

And so the two spent their lunch. Some moments in silence, just enjoying each other's company, affectionate glances exchanged. Every now and then a silly remark or a joke made, met with a giggle or a chuckle, depending on who did the joking and who the responding. Small talk, really - just passing the time. Until eventually, with a look halfway between thoughtful and amused, Al asked "How are you with - " words. "... cheesy things? Like, melodramatic but with a knowing wink, not taking yourself too seriously?"

In feat that earlier hadn't seemed likely for such a slight woman, Liana had made it all the way to her dessert with barely an issue. It had helped that there had been no rush, and that the conversation had flowed naturally enough to allow her to savour the stages. The portions had been logistically reasonable too, at least on her side of the table. The impressive slab of steak that Alastair had received had very swiftly provoked an intent to return again in the near-future, if the current political climate would actually allow two mutants to mind their business in such a leisurely way. She had settled for the moment, hands comfortably folded over her stomach as she stretched back in her chair, and allowed the dessert to sit and wait whilst she tried to interpret what Alastair meant.

"How do you mean?," she eventually gave up in favour of seeking clarification. "How am I when others are cheesy or how often do I indulge myself?"

"Mostly the former I suppose," Al shrugged a bit. "I had a silly idea for the band. Some 'lore', so to say," he emphasized the word with finger quotes. "Like, the band members are all Victorian era musicians that died and were buried back in the day but in current days just got up and climbed out and started playing. We'd be wearing weathered period costumes, torn and dirty, dust covered. We'd be wearing low key zombie like make-up. At least for promotional material and any live shows we play. And for a music video if the music is popular enough to have one made."

Both eyebrows shot up, though Liana was admittedly more surprised that he'd label that cheesy when it sounded more like an attempt to be thematically thorough. At the very least, she could appreciate the extra attention afforded to the aesthetics behind the music, mostly because she was quite a fan of fancy dress. Not that there was ever a lot of opportunity to indulge in it. "If that's what counts as cheesy then I suppose I must be a fan." As they were wont to do where Alastair was concerned, her brown eyes smiled with twinkling approval. "Though if it's anything like this Dungeons and Dragons business, we may wind up with fully-fledged alter-egos. Second ones," she added, taking their mutated forms into consideration a heartbeat too late.

"I hadn't thought as far as proper alter egos," Alastair leaned back in his chair. Truth be told, that steak was weighing heavily on his stomach. It was so much. But also, so good. He'd definitely have to come back here some day. Maybe when he had a demo tape recorded to present to the record label and recording studio in the city, at walking distance from the restaurant. It was the same label that Somnium Tenebris had been signed under, so they at least knew Al. "D'you think we should come up with an appropriate dramatis personae for this project, Li?" This was the first time he'd used the nickname for her, at least, out loud.

The familiarity didn't so much take Liana aback as simply give her a moment's pause for thought. It was decent timing, since the question also required invested contemplation. There was something decidedly different to this meal, in comparison to the others they'd shared, and though it wasn't anything grandiose, it boiled down to the simplicity of being able to relax entirely. Even the presence of the photographer hadn't been enough to emulate the constant threat of students appearing at inopportune times, and the lack of possibility in that regard made it easier to indulge in the gentle intimacy of a pet-name. The warmth of it sat comfortably and eventually she smiled and dipped her head to one side in partial affirmation. "It would likely be either a matter of inventing our own or having one constructed for us. I suppose it depends if we want to leave the creative liberty with your fans."

A light shrug from the music teacher. "I don't think we need to come up with a whole alternate identity. It's not like we're trying to hide who we are - unless you can think of a good reason we should? I mean, I'm a recognizable face and I don't think even zombie make-up will hide who I am," he mused, though his expression seemed more thoughtful than such a dismissive attitude expressed in his words would warrant. He seemed to examine her, head inclined a bit, brows furrowed. "This might be a strange question but, could you just - ... talk to me for a bit? About anything."

The request earned only a flicker of surprise before a slight tilt to her head saw Liana adopt a more thoughtful approach. Aside from the conversation in the car, they had managed to keep their discourse light-hearted and full of good humour, which Liana honestly wouldn't have thought herself much in the mood for given the tension of the last few days. Stepping away from the Institute into a larger populace had created a sense of liberty that she hadn't predicted but now found herself eternally grateful for. Whatever was on Alastair's mind now as his brilliant mind rode its own internal wind current, it was unlike him to request anything, much less be so cryptic about it. That alone was cause enough to suppose it was important, at least to him.

"Anything?," she started, a ghost of a smile curving her lips. "That's a dangerous spotlight you're giving me, Mr. Temple, I've eaten just enough to be entirely too comfortable to bother with tact." It seemed a baseless threat, since tactfulness was less something Liana chose to adopt and more a natural preference. "If you're giving me the floor, though, I would like a moment to thank you for today." She paused then, her thumb nail tracing a line in the condensation on the side of her glass. "For more than today, really. It only occurred to me this morning as I was getting ready that my time at Avalon has been much briefer than it feels most days. I've always felt at home there, I was present when Claire breathed life into the idea after all, but this time around..."

Her dark eyes studied his face for a moment.

"Even she has never seen me transform. There are people I have known for significantly longer who had never seen my power manifest. The care that needs to go into maintaining control has made it easier to keep that side of my life to myself, and yet.." A slow shake of her head conveyed a gentle disbelief. "You heard me play on the first night we met, another talent that often remains confined to my private spaces. You've seen me transform, you've pulled me back on stage again, and now you've convinced me to delve into the kind of depravity that will provoke my mother horrendously." Judging by the twinkle in her eyes, this was less of a concern to Liana than her words made it sound. "All the hallmarks of a terrible influence and one I certainly didn't expect to be so fortunate to find amidst this mess."

She arched a playful eyebrow at him.

"Is that enough or would you like me to continue?"

For the duration of her monologue, Al hung on her every subtle movement, every syllable, every move of her jaw, her lips, the muscles in her cheek, even the movements of her throat. To some this level of attention might be low key disconcerting. When she was done speaking though, he met her raised eyebrow with a warm smile, and began.

"Well, first of all, you are very welcome, and it has been my pleasure," As much focus as he had put on the way she spoke as she did, he did not neglect to listen to and absorb the words, the sentiments held within them. It was clear they had touched him. For her to say those words, express those thoughts, and in a public place like this, meant a lot. "And similar from me. I have found in you a friend, a comfort in one's presence I've not felt since Robert and Sylvain. Even outside our music," he explained, tone quiet and serious.

Now thoroughly self-conscious he glanced away, clearing his throat. He knew he was still naive in many ways, never having had a normal education or normal life inasmuch as people like them could have one. Expressing these feelings was not his comfort zone. And so, he focused on what he knew, again. "Now, the reason I asked for you to talk for a bit is because I had a thought, and wanted to study your voice for a moment. Good projection, breath control, great articulation," It made sense really, for someone who's professional life circled around listening and talking, to be good at both. "But more than that, there's a - .. A richness to the texture of your voice. A certain warmth. Sub-harmonics," This was all physical aspect, not training. "Do you sing? Have you had training?"

Part of the appeal of Alastair's company, Liana supposed, was never knowing quite where the conversation would lead them. Of all the directions she might have considered after her flimsy attempt at thanks, this was one of the least likely. "I...sing about as much as the next person, I suppose. Which is to say, often in the shower and frequently absent-mindedly to myself." Her humour was somewhat dismissive of his praise, if only because she wasn't sure quite what to make of it. "I sang in school choirs and several time for school productions," the brunette added as an attempt to be thorough. "And at church on the rare occasion we'd attend, usually around Christmas." Her gaze drifted for a moment as Liana dredged up the last of her experience. "There were voice lessons as part of the music degree I started but, since I never finished it..." She hunched both shoulders. "I don't think we can count that as being trained, no."

"Well, there's a lot of potential there. I'm - well, my mind is trying to figure out how to incorporate your voice in my music," he explained, taking another sip of his drink. "As for training - I'm no vocal coach, but I know enough about basic techniques that I can coach you at least to a moderate level, if you want. I think your voice is too rich for layering during the loud parts, but there'll be plenty of moody bridges that could benefit from a warm voice over top."

It was enough to bring Liana forward in her seat, at which point she propped her chin up with her hand and just looked at him for a moment. So much of this project seemed to be escalating quickly, and it wasn't that she was regretting her promise to be part of it so much that Liana realised she was only just starting to understand the significance of him including her at all. She'd seen him perform, he was not shy of the spotlight, but it hadn't been a journey he'd made alone in the past. It struck her then that, just as he had quickly become someone she had trusted with aspects of herself she usually kept private, Alastair was very intentionally trying to secure her role in his own personal growth story. Reaching out with her other hand, she reciprocated his earlier gesture and lay her now-warm palm over his to give it a gentle squeeze.

"I'll agree, on one condition."

A half smirk, half smile at the gesture his only reaction, though he did notice, and did appreciate. "That being?"

"We make this a regular thing." Though the warmth of her smile did its best to dominate, there was the hint of something a little more anticipatory lingering just behind Liana's eyes as she watched for his response.

Al laughed. A full laugh, not just a chuckle. "Ha. Yeah, sure. We can do that. Sounds fun."

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