"For most, it is, yes." His perspective on a long time is more than slightly skewed.
"I agree it is best to resign yourself to being here for a significant amount of time. I was reluctant, myself, at first. But I've settled so comfortably here now that I may choose to make it my home even after the barrier around this island is released."
Between the word 'most' and the earlier comment about not being able to partake in tea, George has a few questions. Just not any that seem polite to voice at this juncture. Or that won't have similar questions levied on him in return.
"That's quite the commitment, though I can certainly see the appeal."
He taps on his mug a few times deciding whether or not it's the time to slip out of the pleasantries and into more pertinent matters.
"I have to ask, have you run into any problems with your career choice?"
"Ostensibly, we are all meant to go back to the lives we left, eventually. It may not be a choice we have, but if it is, I think I could enjoy a quiet life here for quite some time." Even he is surprised about that, but it's the truth.
"If by problems you mean social judgment or retribution from the law, then no. None that I'd consider significant. I have my permits for work signed by Dahlia herself. I'm well-regarded among the villagers because I simply have not allowed them to disrespect me and go unchallenged. Few actually have. My dealings are all fair and transparent and I've received no complaints, to date." He says all of this proudly. But now his smile turns a touch wry.
"Though, I must warn you that one of the local doctors will come calling on you to inspect your health once you make your business public knowledge. First Aid was most insistent about it."
George nods, it's good to know and promising for his own business prospects.
"I'm surprised insistence was necessary." He's not going to voice his opinions more than that, but he's certainly not having Good thoughts on what that phrasing implies.
"I'll be sure to check in with, First Aid you said? At my earliest convenience. There isn't much risk of my passing anything on, but I'll want to be on the good side of at least one doctor regardless."
"Yes. First Aid was not satisfied to take me at my word that, as a vampire, I am not capable of transmitting any diseases. He wanted to be certain about it. I thought it best to oblige him rather than fight it on principle. Having a certified bill of health from one of the trusted physicians here is a useful selling point, after all."
"I'm very real," Erik states flatly. "However, I have discovered since I got here that what counts as a vampire, and what traits a vampire may display can vary wildly depending on where they come from. I can only speak for myself."
"Different worlds with different variations on the same theme, that makes some sense." He's already seen Erin and come to terms with her world's broken Mask, so this isn't quite the jarring thought it could be "I suppose I may as well tell you, I'm not entirely human myself."
Gilbert isn't going to be happy, but what can you do.
"I'll hold you to that," George says, and the Wyrd twists around him binding the words to a Pledge. Not that he's going to elaborate further on just what he is without prompting, even with that assurance.
Erik has half a mind to ask for information tit-for-tat, but he decides against that for now. His age is a point of pride for him, so that is no secret
"Over a thousand. For my kind of vampire, that is exceptionally long-lived."
George just stares for a moment. He's not sure what he was expecting, but more than a thousand? He's really not sure what to do with that.
"Well," he says at length, with something that might be either a laugh or a sigh, "It's nice to know I'm not anywhere near the oldest in the room for once."
He spends a moment longer keeping the somewhat amazed look on his face. It's symbiotic, Erik likes the attention, and George is enjoying the glamour he sheds in response to it.
"That's a complicated question, but the simplest answer is 132."
"I realize you are reluctant to name what you are, but that does make it rather hard for me to place if such an age is advanced for you or not. For a human, that would be exceptional, but human you are not."
George taps the side of his cup lightly as he thinks, the sound almost more like stone than nails. There's a risk to sharing more, he has no way of knowing whether this place is safe from the Gentry or not. Given that Dimitri had to contend with Them in a similar situation, the signs point more towards not. But if anyone can handle themselves it'll be a vampire who's over a millennia old. Plus Erin wandering around without a Mask likely poses more of a threat than mere words.
And lord help him he wants a peer he doesn't have to hide from.
"Knowledge of what I am can be dangerous, even explaining what the threats are is dangerous. So if I am to tell you more, I will need a more concrete assurance than 'your secret is safe'. Both that you accept the risk, and that not a single word of what I am will pass your lips to someone who doesn't already know."
"I am no stranger to dangerous information. I accept the risk and I do not do so lightly. My word as a vampire, I will not tell a single word of this to anyone without your explicit consent or unless they can prove they knew it already. I do take my word very seriously."
George nods solemnly, rebinding this more detailed promise into the Pledge. He spends some time in silence, collecting his thoughts on a complicated subject into the most pertinent information for right now.
"I'm a Changeling, in the common parlance. Human, until I was taken by the Fair Folk, held in Their domain at the whims of my Keeper, and eventually escaped.
"Therein lies the complexity of age. By years lived the mundane world, I'm 38. Years since my birth, 132. Time experienced? That's more difficult. I'd wager at least 200 years, possibly approaching 3 or 400.
"I'm neither old nor young for what I am, but in my social sphere, by the ages we each claim for ourselves, I'm the oldest by about a century." He smiles, looking off into the distance for a moment, "That's including some who were taken around the same time as me, you can make of that what you will."
Erik waits in patient silence. He gets the impression it's much like if someone were to ask him for his own history. There's a lot of it to put in order.
He's silent for a moment even after George lays out that complicated truth in front of him. He's heard of Changelings, but never encountered one (that he's aware of.) There is a lot he can make of this. He doesn't have to stretch his imagination very far.
"You are a survivor. That is what I make of it. And, if you are similar to me, you have regrets about how you survived. I won't ask about that, but you have my sympathy if you want it." And his promise of silence, of course.
"Thank you." George says with a small smile, glad of the Mask that means Erik won't see how weak it really is. The worst thing is always how little he regrets what he did — what he became — in Arcadia.
"I've been out for just shy of eight years, which is not half so long as it seems and far longer than it feels."
"Yes, I know what you mean. To me, eight years is barely a blink, yet much can change so quickly." He had Max in his house for less time and somehow those seven years seem more profoundly impactful to him than the hundred years that came before.
"And now, so soon after, you are here in a new place once again. How are you handling that transition?"
"Oh, this is fine. Losing everyone you've ever known and starting over in an unfamiliar world is far easier the second time."
He laughs, and it's genuine. As much as he cared for the friends he's gathered in London over the last 8 years, it doesn't hurt the same to have lost them as it did his friends and family from before Arcadia. He's had practice now. Wasn't expecting for it to happen again as such, but it wasn't much of a surprise either.
"Rebuilding my business will be annoying, of course, but at least it's something universally transferrable. Even if I doubt it will be anywhere near as lucrative here as I'm used to."
Erik can't bring himself to refute George. How many times has he picked up and restarted? More than he cares to count. The sting does lessen with each one.
"I don't know what you are used to but, yes, business is slower here than it might be with a less static population. I assume you are male, so we may be in some direct competition, but I'm not concerned about that. I have my own advantages."
"One of my specialities was financial domination, I'm not sure that's an ethical offering here. Especially with the rates I charged." He'll miss those clients the most, and not just because of the money they brought in.
"Some direct competition is unavoidable, but I operate within a fairly specific niche. I'm a professional dominant, and I don't include any direct sexual contact as part of my services. That doesn't exactly suit everyone who is looking for a sex worker, no matter their preferred gender. Which is part of why I wanted to be sure to meet you, I prefer to have colleagues I know and trust to refer potential clients to if I'm not going to be a good fit."
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"That's quite some time." By some perspectives anyway, if not George's own, "I suppose that means I must settle in for the long haul, then."
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"I agree it is best to resign yourself to being here for a significant amount of time. I was reluctant, myself, at first. But I've settled so comfortably here now that I may choose to make it my home even after the barrier around this island is released."
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"That's quite the commitment, though I can certainly see the appeal."
He taps on his mug a few times deciding whether or not it's the time to slip out of the pleasantries and into more pertinent matters.
"I have to ask, have you run into any problems with your career choice?"
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"If by problems you mean social judgment or retribution from the law, then no. None that I'd consider significant. I have my permits for work signed by Dahlia herself. I'm well-regarded among the villagers because I simply have not allowed them to disrespect me and go unchallenged. Few actually have. My dealings are all fair and transparent and I've received no complaints, to date." He says all of this proudly. But now his smile turns a touch wry.
"Though, I must warn you that one of the local doctors will come calling on you to inspect your health once you make your business public knowledge. First Aid was most insistent about it."
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"I'm surprised insistence was necessary." He's not going to voice his opinions more than that, but he's certainly not having Good thoughts on what that phrasing implies.
"I'll be sure to check in with, First Aid you said? At my earliest convenience. There isn't much risk of my passing anything on, but I'll want to be on the good side of at least one doctor regardless."
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They're diverting from the topic, but...
"Different worlds with different variations on the same theme, that makes some sense." He's already seen Erin and come to terms with her world's broken Mask, so this isn't quite the jarring thought it could be "I suppose I may as well tell you, I'm not entirely human myself."
Gilbert isn't going to be happy, but what can you do.
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"I did suspect. I have spent a long time perfecting the art of appearing human." It takes one to know one. "Your secret is safe with me."
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"How long is a long time, if I may?"
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"Over a thousand. For my kind of vampire, that is exceptionally long-lived."
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"Well," he says at length, with something that might be either a laugh or a sigh, "It's nice to know I'm not anywhere near the oldest in the room for once."
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"Just how old are you, my friend? Generally speaking?"
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"That's a complicated question, but the simplest answer is 132."
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George taps the side of his cup lightly as he thinks, the sound almost more like stone than nails. There's a risk to sharing more, he has no way of knowing whether this place is safe from the Gentry or not. Given that Dimitri had to contend with Them in a similar situation, the signs point more towards not. But if anyone can handle themselves it'll be a vampire who's over a millennia old. Plus Erin wandering around without a Mask likely poses more of a threat than mere words.
And lord help him he wants a peer he doesn't have to hide from.
"Knowledge of what I am can be dangerous, even explaining what the threats are is dangerous. So if I am to tell you more, I will need a more concrete assurance than 'your secret is safe'. Both that you accept the risk, and that not a single word of what I am will pass your lips to someone who doesn't already know."
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"I'm a Changeling, in the common parlance. Human, until I was taken by the Fair Folk, held in Their domain at the whims of my Keeper, and eventually escaped.
"Therein lies the complexity of age. By years lived the mundane world, I'm 38. Years since my birth, 132. Time experienced? That's more difficult. I'd wager at least 200 years, possibly approaching 3 or 400.
"I'm neither old nor young for what I am, but in my social sphere, by the ages we each claim for ourselves, I'm the oldest by about a century." He smiles, looking off into the distance for a moment, "That's including some who were taken around the same time as me, you can make of that what you will."
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He's silent for a moment even after George lays out that complicated truth in front of him. He's heard of Changelings, but never encountered one (that he's aware of.) There is a lot he can make of this. He doesn't have to stretch his imagination very far.
"You are a survivor. That is what I make of it. And, if you are similar to me, you have regrets about how you survived. I won't ask about that, but you have my sympathy if you want it." And his promise of silence, of course.
"How long since you escaped?"
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"I've been out for just shy of eight years, which is not half so long as it seems and far longer than it feels."
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"And now, so soon after, you are here in a new place once again. How are you handling that transition?"
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He laughs, and it's genuine. As much as he cared for the friends he's gathered in London over the last 8 years, it doesn't hurt the same to have lost them as it did his friends and family from before Arcadia. He's had practice now. Wasn't expecting for it to happen again as such, but it wasn't much of a surprise either.
"Rebuilding my business will be annoying, of course, but at least it's something universally transferrable. Even if I doubt it will be anywhere near as lucrative here as I'm used to."
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"I don't know what you are used to but, yes, business is slower here than it might be with a less static population. I assume you are male, so we may be in some direct competition, but I'm not concerned about that. I have my own advantages."
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"Some direct competition is unavoidable, but I operate within a fairly specific niche. I'm a professional dominant, and I don't include any direct sexual contact as part of my services. That doesn't exactly suit everyone who is looking for a sex worker, no matter their preferred gender. Which is part of why I wanted to be sure to meet you, I prefer to have colleagues I know and trust to refer potential clients to if I'm not going to be a good fit."
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