Hello

Sheriff's Estate - The Vault

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The night is dark, stretching out past the witching hour and slowly meandering its way towards dawn. Business complete for the evening, William Grant is relaxing, or his equivalent thereof. A neatly attractive blonde sits at the conference table, tapping away and occasionally asking a question in her Southern lilt, answered mentally by the vampire that lounges on a comfortable couch.

The gentle sounds of piano music drift from concealed speakers, calming and soothing. The Vault is otherwise empty.

~

Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon…
You come and go, you come and go…

Outside the estate there is an argument going on. A horrific argument between security and a rather loud male voice. There are screams. There are yells. It comes to a few blows. Eventually the noise dies down, the loud male voice disappeared into the dark of night.

Then there is a knock on the door. A cheerful tappity-tap. Then another. And yet another.

~

Idle interest perks towards the noises, and Will sends a mental command that causes the blonde to head upstairs. He reaches for a device that puts him instantly in touch with security, and a short, languid, "Open it," draws forth from his lips.

Someone outside does obey.

~

"Bodacious!"

There is a young little vampire, standing on the front stoop when the door is opened. Her hands are clutched to a picnic basket that she seems to be struggling to hold. Her hair is held up in a side-ponytail. Her clothing is a bright mixture of fuchsia and lime green, black fishnet stockings and gloves, and a pair of rainbow-colored slouchy socks. To the front of her shirt is pinned an envelope with two words written on it: William Grant

~

Slowly, the vampire comes to his feet, suddenly becoming a rush of black wind, that pauses at the entrance. He looks over the girl, face impassive and nostrils testing the air; catching her scent. "I assume you are a gift for me?" he asks, mildly, glancing pointedly towards the envelope on her chest. "My birthday was two months ago, you realise."

~

"That'd totally be rad," Ronnie chirps. Her head cocks to the left as she peers into the home beyond him. "So like, you're totally my new daddy, right? Hope you've got room for a cage!" The struggle with the picnic basket continues, the girl making no move from the step to enter the estate. She just stands there, smiling goofily at Will. "My last daddy totally just left me here."

~

"Who, exactly," Will asks, "was your last 'daddy'?" His flat tone somehow manages to inject the quotes. He stands in the doorway, and a hand slowly stretches forth to pluck the envelope from her chest. "I was not informed of your arrival."

~

"King Rob Lowe," comes the gigglish reply. Ronnie doesn't flinch as the envelope is opened. "It's just your turn." They generally don't give warning when ditching her. Inside the envelope is a single sheet of paper, which simply states:

Sorry we could not keep her. She is your issue now.

~ King of Washington

~

"My turn?" Will inquires, still mild. His body is otherwise motionless as his eyes flick over the paper. "Please do inform me as to why the King of Washington has requested that I cast my wing over you." Polite as always.

~

"It's totally bogus, right? I mean, like, I really don't know. So what'cha got for television? Pleaaaaaaaaase tell me you've got MTV. I like, can't live without MTV!" Ronnie would push her way into the house to drop the basket since the stupid bunnies are struggling so much, but she gives Will a strange look. "You're like way totally older than that dick-for-brains kingy up in wherever I was."

~

"What is your name?" Will asks, mildly, before she manages to insult royalty. "You should also tell me what the last words of the King of Washington were to you." His arm flashes in a black blur, a backhanded slap, sent with more shock value than strength. "Learn to respect royalty and power in my domain," he continues, his voice dropping low, dark and threatening.

~

"Ronnie." The basket falls a bit, but she manages to keep from dropping it. Until she's backhanded. The basket drops, and little wee bunnies start to hop all over the place, the majority of them running into the estate. "Nononono! Hellaciously horrible! You let the evil out!" Her lower lip wobbles, and she starts to cry. No tears of blood, but regular looking human ones. "He told them to b-bring me h-here or k-kill me. Totally uncool!"

~

The king's arm flashes again, this time aiming to take the girl by the throat, but it stops before even really getting there. Instead, his eyes flick over the escaping contents of the basket. Somehow, the vampire manages to not show his surprise. "Collect your pets," he says, levelly. His tone draws more pleasant, though, as he starts to turn away, beginning to walk into his home. "Collect them, leave them with my security. Then you may join me. We shall discuss your presence in my state." Quiet, measured steps (that avoid little furry friends) carry him across the room, towards the U of couches.

~

Bunny collection is going to take a while. "PETS!?! NOT PETS! Evil, evil creatures. They're going to take over the world." Ronnie doesn't mind orders though, so she rushes past him into the house, trying to grab the bunnies by the ears and throw them back into the basket. She manages to catch four, before toddling them back out to the security guard. "Careful! They'll eat you. They don't like us." To prove it, she dives toward one in the bushes outside, yanks it up by its hind feet, and bites it. After draining it, she grins at the guard with bloody teeth. "No more evil, see? That's how you have to handle them."

This of course takes about fifteen or twenty minutes, but when all is said and done, she dances her way into the house and plops on a couch.

~

Will simple places himself on a couch, relaxing languidly and stretching across it. He waits for the girl to finish, immoving and apparently simply enjoying the remnants of dulcet piano filtering into the room. When Ronnie does come to the couch, his eyes open once more, though they do not go towards the girl.

"I assume you are aware of the laws of our kind?" he queries.

~

Confusion becomes Ronnie's expression, brows angling inward in deep concentration. "No killing vampies, no breaking things, uhm uh… oh oh! Totally no eating people. They taste really swampy anyhow, and gross. Bunnies are evil and tastes better." Her head bobbles forward in agreement a few times, and she gives him that cute blank grin of hers.

~

"You must present yourself before the Sheriff," Will says, quietly, "and must not damage or take the property of another vampire. This includes their claimed human. Otherwise, you seem to have a grasp." He turns his head, levelling a long and penetrating look on the girl. "Furthermore, in my presence I expect manners, decorum and a measure of sanity. Away from my presence I expect you to not bring our kind into disrepute. Do you understand?"

~

Another bobble of the head is given, though Ronnie is about as sane as she gets at the moment. "Totally. I mean like, it's not as if I'm totally spazzing or anything." Only she is. "Dis-re-what? So like, what did you say about MTV? You do have it right? It'd be gnarly if you did, and totally lame if you don't. Where's my room?"

~

"Disrepute," Will says, gently and quietly, though there is a reserve of steel behind it. "I expect you to learn the meaning of this word before I see you again. This coming day, you will stay in a guest room downstairs. I will allocate you somewhere to call your own after that. As soon as you are earning money, you may repay me for the rent on the apartment I will provide." Idly, he reaches out for a remote control, pressing a button on it that brings the giant flatscreen on one wall to life. The remote is tossed her way.

~

"Totally tubular! Where'd you get a tee-vee this big!? I thought only movie screens were this large." Ronnie just goggles at the television, just in absolute awe of it. The remote is caught and she begins pressing buttons on it. She obviously knows what a remote control is. The channels are flipped through until she finds something that could be MTV and she just stares at the screen. "Bitchin'!" There's yet to be sound turned on, but she air guitars away with the video, then stops abruptly when he mentions earning money. "I could totally hit the mall. It's where I do my best work. King Rob Lowe didn't like that."

~

"If I even so much as sense ill behaviour," Will continues, apparently ignoring her now he is starting to learn, "including rudeness, causing trouble with mortals, anything I deem untoward…" He pauses for dramatic effect, allowing the television a somewhat intrigued look. "There shall be consequences. What sort of work do you do?"

~

"Don't. They totally don't let me," Ronnie says, eyeing the music video again. It's just so HUGE. "Seriously, do you like own a movie theater or something? I mean, screens this size don't exist!" His words go in one ear, dance around in her brain, and mostly out the other ear. He's given a look. "Dude! Chill! Mortals are grody to the max. Totally won't waste time with'em."

~

"The screen was not cheap," Will replies, "but merely found in a shop." He does cast an inquiring eye over the girl, intrigued by her lack of knowledge. "You will never again refer to me as 'dude'," he comments, still mild, "though your choice of mid nineteen-eighties slang does intrigue me. Why do you use it?"

~

Blink. Blink. Blinkety.

"Dude! 'cuz it's the 80's, duh!" Ronnie shakes her head, then peers at the absolutely huge screen again. Enthralled by the movie-sized screen. "It's 1985!" A quick look at him. "Oh, sorry dude. Don't have a cow. What should I call you?"

~

"This is your final warning regarding that word," says Will, pleasantly. He relaxes against the couch, eyes closing only briefly before they snap open, and he twists in place, sitting up to stare at Ronnie with a flat, uncompromising stare. "Do not play games with me, girl."

~

"What? Like Pacman? I totally rock that game!" Ronnie suddenly sits upright, as though looking around for said arcade machine. Upon not finding it, she looks upset. "You don't have any games to play with you," she points out sullenly.

~

The King of Texas becomes a black blur, shifting from his position with such alacrity that human eyes would struggle to follow. One hand stretched out, aiming for Ronnie's throat;an attempt to pin her to the couch with one eight-hundred year old arm.

~

Vampires have no need to breathe, which is a good thing when one is getting a windpipe potentially collapsed. Ronnie hits the couch, pinned beneath his arm. "Chill! I totally don't do the nasty! Get off!"

~

Barely-contained rage burns behind the dark and dangerous eyes of William Grant. He lowers his face, drawing close enough to Ronnie that the gentle movement of air from between his lips flicks a feathery, minty touch on her face. When he speaks, it is at a low hiss, fuelled with viciousness and the promise of pain. "Tell me," he says, "what year it is. Lie to me and I shall end you, tearing your very heart from your chest." By his tone, he means it.

~

"1985!! It's 1985!" Ronnie at least believes that to be the case. "They just released the We Are The World single! I just won Star Search! Wrestlemania totally just debuted at Madison Square Garden! Chill!"

~

The eyes boring into Ronnie's twitch slightly, confusion evident. Not releasing her neck, Will reaches to one side, pressing the 'guide' button on the remote control. "Look at that," he says, lifting his free hand to point towards the screen. "The date." Slowly, his fingers release their iron grip on her throat.

~

Forced to look at the date, Ronnie just starts to cry. "Nonononono it's 1985! It's the eighties! It's the eighties! You and your big tee-vee are lying!" Were she not being held in place, she'd reach down and pull off her slouchy sock and throw it at him. Non-bloody tears trail down her cheeks. "Back to the Future was just on at the theater! You're wrong wrong wrong!"

~

The older vampire looks on, the dangerous, evil look in his eyes dying as he does. Slowly, his head begins to shake. "Poor, broken creature," he says, barely above a whisper, releasing the girl entirely. He looks on, nostrils again testing the air; scenting the true tears that fall. "We shall see you looked after. Cured."

~

When she's released, she draws her legs up to her chest. Then she works her slouchy sock off and throws it at him. A half-hearted attempt at "hurting" him for lying to her. "M'not broken! I totally don't need help." Ronnie slides her pointer fingers under her eyes, and then looks past him at the television. "Make it go away please."

~

An easy sidestep carries Will out of the way of the sock. "You are," says he, "a shattered mind. Now I understand why they cast you aside." His voice turns gentle, as he flicks the television off. "Come, Ronnie. I shall show you your quarters for the day." He even goes so far as to offer an arm.

~

"Will it have MTV?" Ronnie's trauma seems to be over, and she hops off the couch, minus the shoe and sock, and not really caring. The arm is taken, and she grins. "I totally love MTV you know. It's like awesome-to-the-max!"

~

"Of course it will," says Will gently, leading the way to the door, and downstairs.