Ivan's apartment isn't exactly large and spacious, but he has taken advantage of the room that he does have and transformed it into quite the reputable home. Furnished smartly with a rather modern theme, it is kept generally neat and workable - the ultimate bachelor's pad. And so, this Monday finds Ivan Fontane sitting upon his couch with his shoes off, flipping through the local newspaper with a very disinterested sort of look. Apparently, he's simply winding down after a full day's work.
—
Some people wind down, some people get information that riles them up a little, and have to wander over to see their brothers and find out exactly what is going on. This is what happened to Scarlett today. A little birdie in the family coven was so nice as to call her, attempt to entice her to join their ranks yet again, and let on that something bigger was brewing. Down at the entrance she waits, her finger pressing on the buzzer/intercom to get into the building.
"Ivan, I know you're in there."
—
It is with mild sense of interest and amusement that Ivan glances towards the intercom. He lets out a low, deliberate sigh, deciding to take his sweet time with folding the newspaper before putting it down, smoothing out his clothing, generally doing anything possible to procrastinate and ensure that Scarlett will be bothered just a bit more. Eventually, however, his drawl can be heard.
"Why, good afternoon darling sister. It's been a while." Followed by the buzzing of the bottom door unlocking.
—-
"Let me i-" The intercom buzzes, and she grabs for the door before the few seconds of unlocking end and she's forced to use the system again to annoy him. Once she's up at his apartment, she knocks on the door wasting no time in doing so. In fact, she looks just a bit irritated that she's even got to knock. Maybe it's been one of those days. Scarlett has her hair pulled back loosely, an over-sized sweater worn, making her seem as though she's drowning in it, a pair of black leggings, and a artistically wrapped pashmina around her neck.
—
Once again, Ivan shows just how mature he is by not responding to the knocks. One minute, then another passes by before, with a broad, amused grin on his face, he swings open the door to peer at his twin. His teeshirt and sweats really reiterate the fact that he's just settling down for a normal evening at home. Her irritation is drunk up like a fine wine. "Geez. You don't look all that happy to see me, Scar. In fact, you look more curmudgeonly then usual. What's wrong? PMS?"
—
A good thing she considers herself a pacifist, otherwise she might just bop her brother on the nose for acting so childish and attempting to keep her out of his place. Scarlett behaves herself, refusing to knock any more than the few little tap-taps she has already. Arms cross over her chest when she spots him, giving him a look of disdain. "Like you don't know why I'm here little brother? The way grandfather has you wrapped around his little finger, and you're going to admit to having no idea?"
—
Ah. That look of disdain prompts Ivan to grin in a particularly toothy fashion. It means he's winning, if he's managed to get under her skin. For a moment, Ivan reverts to 12, basking in the glory of annoying the eldest Fontane.
But then her with her vague accusations prompts the man to arch a brow slowly, and he quirks his head to the side, before stepping back to allow her into the apartment and making a vague gesture towards the couch, summoning her to take a seat. Once she's in, the door will be shut behind her and locked before he even bothers responding. "Actually, no. I don't know what you're talking about. I can only pray that you've not finally snapped and gone insane with your paranoid worry like you've been threatening to do ever since you were, what…five?" Beat. "And here I was hoping this was going to be pleasant."
—
Scarlett breezes past him, unwrapping her scarf as she does so. She fiddles with it, finally crumpling it into a ball and tossing it onto a chair. He likes it neat and workable, she's going to add some clutter just because she can. Seating herself upon the couch she leans back against the arm, stretching her legs out onto it and stopping him from sitting beside her. Nothing like making herself at home in someone else's home. She can annoy him right back, it would seem.
"One of the cousins called today. Wanting me to join their ranks. He mentioned that grandfather is looking to dispose of your boss. So my question, lil' bro, is what you're planning on doing about it. Act like he did when he took his senate seat or are you going to man up and actually protect Mayor McNaab in this?"
—
It's a clean apartment. At least, like most things, on the surface. Now that Scarlett's taken it upon herself to sprawl on the couch, she might feel something in between the cushions of the furniture. A certain black and lacy bra that belongs to a woman (or at least, one would HOPE it doesn't belong to Ivan).
As she speaks, the man purses his lips slightly in thought, brows furrowed as he takes the time out of his deliberate provocation to lean against the back of the couch. "What did he say?" Beat. "Scar…you don't know what's going on. You have no idea about what's actually happening, so please save the lectures." This is all he's going to voluntarily allow for now.
—
The bra is removed from the cushions, held up, a look given to Ivan as she assumes it's just another one of his one-night stands, and she shakes her head as she tosses it at him. "Cross-dressing now? I would have figured Trey for that, not you." It's always the quiet ones. Without missing a beat, she shakes her head. "Iv, I know more about what's going on than you do. You never believe me, but grandfather killed people to get to where he is. I really don't want you turning out like that. So sorry for my concern, but this is less of a lecture than it is an information gathering experience."
—
Ivan blinks when she produces the undergarment, a slight sprinkling of red appearing on his cheeks as he peers at the article before hastily putting it away. "Shut up," he scoffs, brows furrowed with slight surprise when she asks about him cross dressing. "No. It's actually my girlfriends, alright." It almost sounds like an excuse, or a lie that has been made to dispel the 'cross dressing' rumor, even though it isn't.
But then, she attacks Gregory. He grows solemn, brows furrowing darkly. "Scarlett." Beat. "No, I'm not sure I do believe you, about that. You've always disliked him. Just like you've always disliked me for having ambition. And I understand way - I understand that power corrupts and all that crud. But, he's not the person you think he is, just because he's a senator. I'm not the person you think I am, just because I use whatever means I have at my disposal to get places. And Mayor McNaab is not the innocent victim you seem to believe he is, either. He's unfit for office. And, for the good of the city, we need to replace him."
—
"I'll believe it when I see it," Scarlett replies to his girlfriend comment. "A annoyingly ambitious playboy like you isn't about to just settle down." Her way of saying she doesn't believe him a single bit.
"He's exactly the person I think he is. If you don't believe me, you should sit down and have a heart to heart with mom about why she doesn't associate with that side of the family." A concerned look is given to her brother, then she shakes her head at him. "McNaab is exactly what we need for the city. Promoting good relations is for the best, and will be most beneficial to everyone. Displacing him will be a mistake, Ivan. And it will be your mistake. Is that something you're going to be able to live with? When the killings start, both human and supernatural, do you think you can live with the responsibility of it all being on your shoulders?"
—
Ivan watches her out of the corner of his eye, jaw clenched into a tight frown. "Would you want to? To meet her, I mean." The only reason he's really pushing this point is to distract her from her self-righteous spiel. But eventually, all he can do is sigh, the lines on his face becoming weary and tired as he is drawn over to the chair that harbors her discarded scarf and collapses upon it. His hand runs over his features, his eyes closing pensively.
"I have no doubt," he begins, slow and deliberate, "That he has made mistakes in his life. I've no doubt that he's behaved scrupulously and shrewdly and…immorally in the past. I can see why you would balk at it, why mom wouldn't like it. But…I know him. He's a good guy. And you know me - I'm a good guy. I chose my profession to make a difference. So I can help people. Because frankly, if that wasn't my motivation, I could do a shitload of other things that would bag me more money and prestige." Beat. "But you have to understand, Scar, that some things are necessary. It'd be great if you could make a difference, if you could get to power by being overwhelmingly good, but the system is corrupt. And to win, you have to bend some rules here and there."
Another pause. "Don't you think I know that, Scar? Who's idea do you think it was? To establish relations with vampires? Who do you think pushed for that shit, made it happen? Me. But do you want to know what the result of that has been?" Beat. "We're cowed. We've spent our energies and resources trying to make nice with them, to cooperate, and they've given us shit. They're still running rampant, with no regard for human authority or safety. Their word means nothing. So, what can we do? We can kiss their ass again, as they continue to prey on humans for the sake of putting on a good public face. Or we can stand and let them know that this behavior is unacceptable. That they will have consequences to contend with, just like any 'human' does, since they're calling for equality."
—
"Sure, Ivan. All the good guys murder people to get where they are. It's a staple of being a good guy." Scarlett rolls her eyes, flipping herself into a more upright position. "We're not cowed. There are going to be a few who are just like the thieves, and murderers, and embezzlers that are human. It's an inevitable part of society, of any society." It would seem that Gregory Umbra Jr. has gotten to her brother more than she ever thought possible. "The more prudent thing to do instead of getting rid of McNaab would be to install a trusted vampire onto the police force, and get one of those Vampire Investigation Units like they've got in New York. Then they would have to answer to our laws as well as their own."
There is a long moment of pause. A long moment in which she says a lot while saying nothing at all. They'll probably just have to agree to disagree, since she'll never agree with anything her grandfather is doing. "If she's remotely of the same mind as you, I really don't think it'd be a great idea." If she even exists.
—
"Except, and this is the concept you can't seem to grasp, Scarlett," Ivan begins in a low, measured tone that betrays his irritation. "They do not accept our laws. They do not respect them, they do not feel as though they have authority, and, above that, the hold themselves above the law. The Sheriff, the ultimate vampiric authority in the city, practically told me so himself. The very same Sheriff who conveniently decided that his duties to our alliance had passed and retracted his end of the bargain. They are creatures of convenience, Scarlett. Highly political. Highly intelligent, and with priorities that differ expressly from our own. So if playing nice have yielded no results…if accommodating them leads to their abuse of our kindness, then there is simply no other choice then to change our approach." Pause for a breath.
He looks a little less sure of himself there, though. "Murder? Who's talking murder here," he argues with a clear frown, obviously lacking such knowledge. "And, fine. You'd just scare her off anyway."
—
"I am talking about murder. About what grandfather has done and what you refuse to see. He is not as good as you think he is, Ivan. The fact that you do whatever he wants of you? It scares me, alright?" There, she admitted to maybe caring about her brother. "He'll do it again too, if he's the opportunity to do so, and this time he's got you as a scapegoat." A hand reaches into a big pocket on her sweater, and Scarlett draws out something that looks like it's seen better days. In actuality, it's a new item made to look old through a very long process. She offers it out to him. "I made this for you. New key chain." Which he'll likely be able to spot as one of her talismans, though she's not telling him exactly what the talisman is for.
"Woah. Wait, they have their own Sheriff's? So why not get them to handle the fact that they're living in a society filled with humans, and see if you can't work something out like that? There's no reason to ruin a guy's career over it, or go all Waco and insane like some of those religious zealots. Besides, seems to me that the people who believe themselves to be above the law are that group that destroyed your unity rally."
—
Ivan makes a face, looking supremely annoyed at this point and it's not too difficult to figure out why. Ivan is the team captain, the brains behind the operations - the thought that he could be played just like he plays McNaab? Well, it bothers him. "I don't do whatever he wants of me," he practically hisses, narrowed eyes and all. Defensively, he crosses his arms over his chest. But the thought that his grandfather - the kind, helpful, fascinating man who had helped him get to where he is now - could possibly be a murderer? Well, it unsettles him even moreso.
And so, he reacts like a caged animal, by snapping. "Oh yeah? Well he's not as bad as you think he is either. I'm not as bad as you think I am either. See Scarlett, you think you're so fucking smart all the time, like you know what's best for everything. You don't." It's tame, all things considering, but there's a bit of venom, though his words are censored to not actually sting that much. No 'bitch' today…yet. The keychain is eyed suspiciously, and once he realizes what it is, annoyance runs through him, but he manages to stifle it. She has good intentions, he reminds himself. And so, it's with a sigh that he makes his way to his feet and reaches for the keychain. "…Thanks."
"Also, you continually misunderstand and underestimate me. Establishing relations with the Sheriff was one of the first things I did. It didn't work - he's no better then the rest. Now, I'm no zealot. I don't want to eliminate vampires. I don't want to fight. But I need to check their power. I need to hold the threat of repercussions - of justice over their head like it is over the heads of humans, because it's the only way they'll accept it."
—
"You do, you just don't see that you do." Grin. "But you will." Thanks to the nifty truth-serum-esque trinket she just gave him. Which when he has it on him means that a nearby witch will have difficulties lying to him.
"Unlike you, little brother, I not only listened to what mom had to say, I did a bit of research on my own. He's just as bad as I think he is, and probably more so." Senators can, after all, keep a lot of things hidden. "I may not know what's best for everything but as a citizen of Dallas, displacing McNaab would be a bad idea. Enough of one that I've got say that you'll just piss off the vampires worse than ever and cause an all out war. They're older than you, they're more cunning than you, and trying to force them to fit into a nice little human niche isn't going to work well."
"But, hey. You're the politician of the family. I just call things like I see'em. And right now, I see that you're headed for more trouble than you want. I'm just asking that you reconsider the stance and don't just get rid of the man because grandfather thinks it's necessary. Make your own damned decision for once."
—
Ivan shakes his head solemnly, her presumptuous stance on the situation prompting him to his feet and to turn away from from the Twin. "And you know what I've seen? I've seen a poor girl harassed, mentally bothered, kidnapped, and forcibly had the blood sucked out of her thanks to their vampires. And you know what she can do about it? Nothing because we have no authority over them. I do not believe all vampires are evil. I do not believe all vampires are wrong, and cruel, and monsters. What I believe in is establishing protection for the people of Dallas, so that we're not used as some sort of…blood-sack. As playthings for these 'immortal' beings. They are not gods." He is firm, dedicated on this concept with an unpleasant curl of his lips. "They must be held accountable for their actions, just like any other. And frankly, if the majority of vampires are neutral, regular people like I believe they are, then they wont find any problems with the new, up and coming policies."
He turns back to Scarlett, cool and somber, the mask of a politician. There is no emotion in his features, just calculated neutrality. "Is that all? Because if it is, perhaps it's time you get home. It's growing dark."
—
"You know, Ivan," Scarlett says as she gets up from the couch. "You may claim not to be one of those religious zealots, but that certainly sounded like something they'd spout from their pulpits." She doesn't bother gathering her scarf, she just walks right up to him. "You are an ass, and you're going to cause a lot of problems for this city. I just hope that grandfather doesn't bail on you and leave you to hide all the dead bodies on your own." The older twin may not be a telepath, but she considers herself enough of a people person to know what's going to happen. "I'll go, but not because you've got your panties all in a bunch lil' bro. I actually have a client coming to the studio in about forty-five minutes." As she marches past him to the door, she glances back at him. "Do me a favor though. Tell your oh-so-good mentor to stop getting the cousins to call me. I don't want to be a part of the coven, I'm happy as I am without his help."
—
"Oh yeah. Like the believe that justice applies to all is so radical and insane. If I'm a religious zealot, then I guess that makes you a fangbanger, doesn't it?" Ivan rolls his eyes mildly, shaking his head in disappointment as she walks off. "I love this city. I love the people in this city, and have been doing what I can to make it better. I will not put up with being supernaturally bullied. Now, get out of my apartment, Scarlett." This last is tinged with clear-cut irritation, spawning from the fact that she dares overrun his own turf to demean and questions his choices and then go so far as to call him an ass. Jesus. What a meanface.
—
As a parting barb, Scarlett says, "My sex life really isn't what's in question, but your politics? They are." Then she flees, knowing that there's little he can do to her, unless he tries to create the illusion that her head is exploding. Even so, she's been through it all before when they were in their teens. It's not like he can bother her so much these days.
