Don't get mad...

Sheriff's Estate - The Vault



This room covers almost the entire ground floor of this house. The majority is taken up by a stylish reception area; three chunky, white leather couches places in a neat U-shape, with a low table in the centre. Another corner holds a modern, black table, six comfortable chairs placed around it as though for conference. The final feature is a bar, well-equipped behind it and with a pair of chunky fridge-freezers, containing a variety of synthetic blood. In one corner is a staircase, leading upstairs. On the same wall is a door through to the only area on this floor not part of this room, where sits a small bathroom and the route downstairs, a featureless door, metal constructed and lockable from one side only, though plated to fit with the design of the house.
Three walls are white, the fourth covered in ceramic panels to give some colour to the place. The floor is tiled, in a pleasant, neutral shade. Windows at regular intervals stretch from floor to ceiling, concealed blackout blinds above them. One wall bears a huge flatscreen television, and one aware of their surroundings will spot the speakers concealed at various points in the room. The general feel of this area is a clinical style, a blank, neutral canvas for whatever happens to be going on. Those who know Will generally refer to this area as The Vault, for the round pillars that stretch up to the roof.


It's early, to vampire standards at least. The sun has only just set and the nightly side of the estate is starting to wake up. Slowly. Just as slow as the tentative steps Susan takes downstairs, huddled deep within the robe, but with the ever present heels to give her some leverage. And height. She doesn't look sleepy, but she does look like shit. Her pale, blue face peeks around the corner before hungry eyes land on the fridge and the synthetic blood stored. Another second passes, then she tilts her chin defiantly and walks over to the bar. Slowly, again, by vampire standards. Then again, doesn't everyone know by now that she doesn't have the usual speed.

Being a early riser, Clarence would have been found already seated on one of the chairs with the back towards the bar, he may not be able to see the person slowly, very slowly it seems creeping down the stairs, but he can hear those slow steps. His head cocking to the side, hearing those foot falls heading behind him towards the bar, and the blood he knows is stored there. The man raises up from his seat, slowly and silently, to his full height of six foot two, "Good evening…" His deep voice carrying as he steps around from his seat, a smile on those pale lips as he lays eyes on the female, slowly curling up in the corner, "Good to see you again…"

It's one thing to know others are there, it's another to try and ignore them while they're not ignoring you. The cringe is visible, but the woman stubbornly makes it to the bar to open the fridge, not once looking back to who… Wait. Again? Hesitantly, Susan turns her head far enough to mark the origin of the greeting - and stands still as a rock. There is silence from her side, but the eyes, they speak volumes. After the recognition (wider) comes the understanding (harder) and the accusation (narrowing) and finally the anger. Blazing, the blue of her gaze darkening a shade.

Having watched the woman take her few steps towards the fridge, his smirk had grown slightly at the cringe, and even broader as he watches realization flash behind those eyes. Bring his arms up across his chest, Clarence allows the full weight of the woman's gaze to rest upon him, "I was only following orders…" He answers to the woman's anger that is so easily read behind the woman's eyes, as his own dark brown eyes, so dark they appear black come up to look into those narrowed eyes. "And if you had followed orders, I suppose you'd not be in the position you are now…"

If she still had her tongue, she might've tried to put him in place, but since she can only produce a menace filled growl without looking an utter fool, the woman stays where she is, lips now pressed to a thin line while she struggles to keep her composure. And a measure of dignity which she feels sorely lacking. She turns her back on him for a moment, one hand taking a bottle from the fridge as a sharp twang in the air mentions the nails she dug into the palm of her free hand.

Moving up against the edge of the bar, Clarence unfolds his arms, as he rests his elbows against the bar, "Could you get me one too?" Addressing the woman, like he would a barmaid, "O+ please…" He chuckles, the sound sounding strange, more like a animalistic growl than a chuckle, as he can easily hear the twang of those nails in the air, enjoying the reaction he is getting from the woman.

With the nails still drawing her own blood, the woman stiffly and without a word retrieves a second bottle from the fridge. O+, indeed. And it's his she puts in the microwave first, punching in the heat and the time, blocking his view on it as she keeps her back to him, waiting like a good little girl for his drink to warm. There's a tremor in her shoulders though, visible even underneath the thick robe, that tells him she's far, far from calm.

Waiting patiently at the bar, the man slowly taps the wooden counter with his fingers to a slow rhythm only he knew. His composure quiet relaxed at the moment, yet that could easily change, as he silently watches the woman carrying out her task, yet that smile still pulls at the corner of his lips.

Ding!

The microwave's bell sounds too loud in the quiet room. And even though she was watching the clock, it still startles Sue, a little. She fetches a glass without him asking for it and pours his drink, working hard to keep that hand from shaking. There's a moment's pause before she turns. Working up some confidence maybe, for the woman's really having a hard time of it. The red streak of a tear running down her left cheek will easily tell him as much. It will be the first thing he sees. The second will be the rest of her turning. The third will be scolding hot synthetic O+ arching towards his face.

His dark gaze having lowered to look at the grain of the wooden bar counter, as he continues to tap his fingers, yet they pause as he hears the sound of the microwave, Clarence's dark orbs slowly raising watching the woman behind the counter, a smile as she gets the glass without asking. His eyes coming up to meet hers, as they fall to that streak of a tear, his smile widening, as he watches the rest of you turn. Pushing himself up from his elbows, as he stands awaiting for his drink, yet as you turn fully and he hears and smells the synthetic O+ flying through the air towards his face, that smile disappears as he cries out, trying to dart his face out of the way "Bit…" His words cut off as he screams as that hot liquid, scolds across apart of his face, a part he was to slow to pull away.

Sue's blazing eyes watch it all. And finally the nails come free from the trenches she dug into her hand, everything about her radiating revenge and partial satisfaction at seeing it met. It lingers. She lingers. Maybe a little too long before she sets down his now empty glass, fetches her own bottle and, foregoing on warming it up, aims straight for the stairs that will eventually lead her back to the guest room she's staying in. It all adds up to a lot of slow.

Clarence may be partially blinded at the moment, but as he brings his hand up to wipe way the blood, ruining the sleeve of his black jacket, as he mutters turning from the bar, as his body follows the sound of your footsteps as they hurry towards the stairs. His back having straighten, as he lets out a angry growl, his fangs having been exposed, as finally with most of his sight back. He hurries towards the fleeing woman, his speed that much faster than the woman's, as his broad hand comes down upon the woman's shoulder, as he firmly takes grips it. "And what the fuck was that for…" He seems to hiss the words out between his fangs.

Not for the first time Susan Baker grunts her hatred over her disability, lips pulled back in a snarl and while she keeps her jaws firmly locked, he gets a clear view of the elongated teeth. Tooth. One is severely clipped, as recent as yesterday. And through the hatred and self pity, she manages to send him silent accusation through her eyes, narrowed to slits. Sharp fingers try to wrestle his hand from her shoulder. Had she been older, she might have succeeded.

Ignoring the sharp fingers, as his hand remains clamped onto her shoulder, Clarence is too interested by that one clipped tooth, feeling something for the woman, her current situation, the man does not loosen his grip though. Chewing at his bottom lip, feeling both of his elongated teeth protruding out, and on display, as he flicks his tongue out lightly testing the point of each. "You can hate me all you like, accuse me for your current situation, but you should only blame yourself…"

And that's sure to help… How? Susan for one is not impressed, though she can respect the sentiment that makes him seek out his fangs, her eyes darting to them, lingering before she slowly returns them to his eyes. Painfully craning her neck. A low growl passes her lips, promising a world of pain if he doesn't release her right this instant, nails adding to the message. Violently she shakes her head and her anger at least has the appearance of righteousness. No, Susan doesn't think she's to blame for her situation.

Even with the added pain of those nails digging into his hands flesh, burying the pain of those nails in a corner of his mind, Clarence does not think it is right to let her go just yet, seeing that she hasn't truly realized the situation she is in at the moment. "Well if your not to blame, I can't be, I just followed the instructions of the Sheriff…and if you think the Sheriff is to blame, then you'd likely end up in a worse situation than you are now…" His head tilting as he allows his dark eyes to meet those darting orbs.

Maybe he'll get the point who she blames when another nail pokes him in the chest, indicating that, eureka, he has something to do with her being here, in her condition. Tears start fresh as the woman struggles with being unable to vent her fury. Wait, there's still the shoes. One of which now collides painfully with one of his shins. The growl grows more menacing.

His hard chest just flexes slightly under that poking nail, ignoring it as much as he is ignoring squeezing of his hand, feeling those nails digging into his skin. Slowly shaking his head, he is distracted by the red tears running down the woman's face, he may have once reacted to a woman's tears, whether human or vampire, but not any more, yet as his shin is hit by one of those shoes, he cries out in surprise, "Shit!" His shin throbbing, his grip tighter, as he raises his gaze back to the woman eyes. "Do I look like a child, hit me in the shins, like some spoiled brat…don't you realize that there is nothing that will change your situation, till you accept it." His teeth being bared at the hit of his shins, trying to contain his anger as he slowly breathes, watching the woman, his dark gaze seeming to be pitch black now.

Susan draws blood now, since he doesn't let up on her shoulder and she doesn't let up on trying to get it away from her. Meanwhile, with jaws still locked -determined to the core not to show him her shame- she mouths words at him, words that are accompanied by grunts, not by sound to form letters. "Not. My. Fault!" When she reaches up with her free hand, the one that still holds a trickle of blood though the trenches have healed, it's shaking again, her anger barely under control. She motions at her ear, then grabs his and pulls it briskly before she releases it, trying to indicate that he didn't hear right. Or maybe didn't listen. She pushes against the skin by (not in) his left eye, trying to indicate that he saw wrong. Or didn't see at all. Finally she flicks fingers against one of his fangs, then points at herself and shakes her head. Violently.

Clarence's head is tugged violently to the side, as he lets out his own grunt as he feels those fingers now only drawing blood upon his hand, as he can easily see it welling up around those nails, but also from the firm tug of his ear. "I can admit I may not have heard anything, but what I saw seemed to be enough, for the Sheriff to decide on your fate…" His eyelid flutters slightly as he feels the firm push of that finger against his skin, "I saw a breather glamoured by a vampire…a breather that was under the protection of the Sheriff…" His lip pulling up in a corner, "Are you saying I saw wrong?"

Finally?! There's a single nod from Sue, who gives up on his hand at about the same moment. Maybe he'll release her shoulder when she pulls his hand from his arm, but she for one isn't pushing her luck that far. "And. Then," she mouths again, outraged. Even inserting a little roll of eye. She motions to herself, the stairs, pointing down. At him. And reaches up to press fingers by the side of him mouth cruelly lifting the corners while she grimaces a laugh -teeth closed- and her fury burns a little brighter right there.

Clarence does slowly release that shoulder, only because he felt it was right to do so, as he bends and stretches his fingers, seeming slightly cramped after holding that shoulder firmly, his brow furrowing slightly as he watches and feels the womans actions, feeling those fingers touching him as he stiffens slightly, "And then?" He asks, having caught that, but not much else with the womans charade, his eyes darting to the stairs following the point of the finger, then back as they point towards him. Everything seems to come back to him it seems.

And then? An exasperated grunt right before she pushes against his chest in a sudden move, hard. Stairs or no stairs. She has just one final message for him, bit through clenched teeth and without vowels to back it up. "Don't. Gloat!"

Clarence is pleasantly shocked by the woman's sudden movement, faster that any of her other movements this evening, as he feels the firm hard press against his chest. Hard enough to push him back a couple of steps, but not that hard that he ends up tumbling down them it seems. Laughing a humored laugh, as he stands looking up the few stairs at the woman, "So you do have more fight in you, than I expected…should have shown that to me on the first time we meet, I may not have been able to get back to tell the Sheriff what I saw…" He chuckles softly, as he slowly takes the few steps back up to the woman.

"What?!" Even Susan is starting to feel like a mute film and with a fresh growl she lifts the only solid thing in her possession, her own chilled bottle of blood, in order to whack him across the face with it. While taking a step back and up the stairs. She isn't trusting the effectiveness of the move even before she makes it.

Clarence just continues to laugh as he climbs the steps, following in the females wake. Yet as she starts to raise up the chilled bottle of blood, his speed increases, as she seemed a bit to slow, as he steps onto the same step as her, invading her space, as his broad hand, the one that had its own blood from those nail indentations, closing around it. Holding it firmly raised, as he continues to chuckle. "You've already wasted one bottle of blood, do we want to waste another…"

What she lacks in speed, at least she tries to make up for with The Look, which at the moment consists of eyes trying to burn a hole right through his head, lips pressed in a thin, white line and nose wrinkled in disgust. So, what's left. A knee. Usually not very trustworthy, but worth a go when all else fails. "'iff off!" she curses through her teeth, even more angry when she feels a fresh stream dripping from her left eye.

Clarence had received that look many times before, he'd grown used to it, as he just let that Look slide right over him. His face a frozen mask, his dark orbs looking down into the female's eyes, as he just smile, exposing his teeth. "Only when you lower that bo…Umph!" Clarence's lets out a quick expulsion of air, as he feels that knee coming up between his legs, not really hitting anything vital, since nothing vital is there anymore, as he tethers foward. Two bodies on such a small step, with a sudden change of movement, it was only a matter of time, before someone would fall, and it seems Clarence's bigger frame was falling forward onto the female.

Lowering that bottle would have been a struggle, the both of them about the same age, though his physique is by far more suited for aggression of the strong kind. Then again, as he goes down, so does she, eliciting another grunt - this one pained as her back hits the steps at regular intervals. The surprise flashes from her face as quick as it arrived, replaced by annoyance over her own too feeble attempts at payback and outrage as he dares fall on top of her. "Pervert!" She mouths at him, hands pushing with all her might at his chest, so he ends up hovering some inches away from her. After all, what's a body's weight in the greater scheme of things.

Laughing all the way down, the male vampire just can't help himself, as he looks down into the woman's annoyed face. Remaining atop her for a few more moments, well hovering atop her thanks to those hands pressing into his chest. Quickly in a flash he is back up onto his feet, his weight leaving her palms, as he offers the woman his hand, "And now I bet you want to blame this on me too?" Staring down at the woman in her bathroom, having ignored the woman's silent protest and name calling.

Susan remains down a little longer than that, exhausted almost beyond the point of caring anymore. Ignoring his hand, she pushes herself up high enough to sit and with short, stiff movements, arranges the robe back around her, not even trying to wipe the bloody tears from her face as they start to fall again (good thing the robe's such a dark blue). Sitting there like that, with the ridiculous heels beneath an anklet and a bath robe, she looks utterly forlorn and beat, shying back should he try to come closer. "Have. You. Not. Done. Enough," she accuses, trying to make the words as obvious as she can.

Clarence remains as still as a rock as his hand remains out to the woman, as his dark gaze watches that exhausted woman. His lower lip being pulled in between his teeth as he chews on it slightly watching those stiff movements of the woman, watching that blood once more trail down across her cheeks, its not that tears that is making him slightly on edge, but the sight of a female, a female vampire seeming to be beaten and broken. As he allows his hand to drop down to his side, as he allows the woman to accuse him, easily able to read the woman's silent lips, "It seems I have…" He says, his works slow and shallow, as he continues to eye the woman, "I didn't realize a few words would be enough to bring a woman to this…" Releasing his lower lip, as his tongue darts out around his fangs. "We're all living with some mistake, and your was your mistake. Deal with it…" He smirks across at the woman. "I'm dealing with mine…"

There's no humor on Sue's face as she looks up. Big, blue eyes. In such a youthful face, a face made for smiling and giggling. For making people feel welcome at a party. Not for sitting on a staircase in a house not her home, tear streaked and tongueless. She just looks at him. Waiting?

Not one to share his past, yet looking into those big, blue eyes, he just can't help himself, at least he felt bad enough for the woman, he'd share a little, "Your fang will grow back, and that tongue will heal…" His own dark eyes, going back to there original dark brown, as he allows his lip to pull up slightly into a smile, "The Sheriff may even forgive you…" Not likely though, but still let the woman hope, "But your not going to have to carry that with you for the rest of your life…" He lets out a chuckle, a seemingly hollow laugh, "Unlike me, I get to carry my mistake with me everyday." That smile, and laugh falling from his lips, as his face once more becomes a pale mask, not showing anything.

Still the impassive look. Big, big puppy dog eyes. Waiting. Did I mention tear streaked face?

Clarence continues to stare into those puppy dog eyes, yet not seeing them, as his thoughts seem to be on another time. His fingers in his left hand seeming to twitch slightly, bending into his palm, as he opens his mouth, yet nothing comes out of it for a moment. Closing it again, as those lips press into a thin slit, he finally finds his words, "A woman cried rape, and I've been marked ever since…nearly 162 years of carrying this with me." His lips clamping shut once again, as his eyes narrow looking into those big blue eyes, "And your upset over a couple of months of waiting for it to heal…"

Susan rises then, slowly. Still nothing but those big, blue eyes. And a complete and utter lack of humor. She seems to hesitate, then sets the blood on the stairs behind her and extends her hand to him.

His eyes slowly returning to their normal shape, he continues to watch the woman hesitantly, eying that hand and it is slowly extended out to him, at least minus the bottle of blood. He slowly extending his own hand, slightly defensively as he feels his hand slowly close around hers, as he slowly yet firmly helps to pull the woman back onto her feet.

At the same time there's a gentle, soft pull once she is back on her feet. A kind urging for him to come closer. Sue at least is honouring his tale with her silence. Oh, she can be amiable when she wants to be. And right now, there's a kindness in her stance, in those slender fingers, offering comfort, just simply from one person to another.

Feeling the tugging against his hand, not a hard tugging a gentle tug, this instantly is putting Clarence on the defensive, as he happily is pulled in closer, yet now even more ready for her to get back at him. As her stance may be kind and offering comfort, yet his is anything but. His whole body hard and firm, as he steps up a step, getting in slightly closer, as his eyes continue to watch yours, even slightly just narrowing a bit, always on edge.

At the sight of that, she slowly, sadly shakes her head and lowers her gaze. Regret? There's a deep, shaky breath that seems to indicate as much. Another soft squeeze of his hand before she opens her hand, allowing him to leave her fingers if he so desires and she shrugs - not knowing what to say, even if she could speak? The defensiveness must be contagious anyway, for when her eyes lift again, they're tentative, careful. Shy?

Feeling somewhat shocked as he realized that the woman was being at least genuine with her soft squeeze and tug o his hand, as he decides not to let his hand drop just yet, a sly smile on his lips as he realizes she's now being careful around him, the sudden chance of character had put him on edge, but it also now makes his chuckle slightly, as he too decides not to say anything, but brings his other arm up around the woman's waist, as he gives a half squeeze, hug of her body, bit strange with his other hand still between the two bodies.

And it's only natural for her to bring her other hand up, obviously hesitating, slow and not quite fluently. She offers a hug that's only friendly, nothing in it's nature betraying that it's anything more than that. She brings her forehead to rest against his chest for a brief second and seems to realize something, the eyes squinting a little under thoughtful brows.

Clarence had offered the hug out of friendship, and only that, as he'd been slightly shocked to feel that woman's other hand come up to slowly complete the hug. Yet it also brings a smile to his lips, as he laughs slightly feeling that forehead rest upon his firm chest. "I'm sorry," He mumbles quietly, near a whisper as he seems to apologize for what had happened to the woman, as well as apologizing for his part in it.

His words ease the frown a little, Susan looking up quietly, searching his face. Is he serious? Mocking her? She lifts a hand, finger extended to lay across his lips. Maybe to urge him to stop speaking, he might ruin the moment. Sure this counts as a Moment. A look of utter seriousness lands on her face and stays and she brings her second hand up as well. Like a blind person feeling another's face to see. Reaching. Right until she can feel his hair, thumbs about the height of his eyes. And she starts to mouth words again. "Not. Yet." Beat. "But." A promising smile darts across her lips and those large blue eyes darken with the menace of it. "Will. Be." And she presses her thumbs down over his eyes. Hard.

Clarence hadn't even got any other words to say, as he just allows those hands to trace across his face, his gaze know upon her lips as he starts to read off her words, a smile flutters across his lips, before with the sudden change of wording, his smile disappears, as those eyes are too close to his eyes for to do anything, as he feels those thumbs pressing into his eyes. "Fuc…" He roars, as he nearly doubles over from the pressure on his eyes, yet his own hands slip around from there positions, as the slide up along her arms, as he takes hold of her wrists firmly, his hands clenching around them, as they easily encircle those bones, as he clenches, his own nails digging into her flesh, as he tries to pull those hands away from his face.

Susan isn't about to let go of him just yet and it's really a shame that he can't see her true expression now, a raging snarl that was such a sweet mouth but a moment ago. /Her/ eyes now shining with triumph. She isn't about to scar him, or ruin his sight, that much common sense still lingers, but she is giving a warning, the thumbs keeping up the /painful/ pressure no matter how deep he digs his fingers into her wrists. When he doubles over, she simply doubles with, which brings her mouth right by his ear now and if he's not too pre-occupied with the entire eyeball into sockets thing, he can hear her chuckle. Such a sweet sound, innocent if not for the twisted word she forces past her lips, "'Ake…"

Clarence may not be able to see her true expression, but the raging snarl that he can hear, is rewarded with his own snarl as he doubles over, his arms still holding those wrists firmly, as he rolls around on the small confines of the staircase, the woman thumbs in his eyes on top of him, as he rolls until he tries to land up onto of her, once more, as with only her hands pressing into his face, he pulls his head away. Still slightly blinked by the pressure, as he tries to pull away, getting his face away from those thumbs.

Funny how the tiny woman cares little for bumps and bruises now she thinks herself in control, giving as little as a light 'Mpf' when he knocks her around while rolling around. And in the end he is able to get away, but only after she's made damn sure he knows it's only because she lets him. In the moment it takes him to get his sight back, she gives him another shove, hands back at his chest. Worked once. Might work again.

Being slightly blind, does has its disadvantages like not realizing when a hand is coming hard at your chest, and now both hands, as this does push him back harder than the first time. Pushing him hard back, as he stumbles down some steps, finally regaining his vision, a few steps away from the woman, with his gaze still slightly cloudy, as he hiss across at the woman between his two fangs.

"Any. Time." Is her soundless promise. And just in case he won't be able to read them, she chuckles. She gets to her feet and starts back up the stairs, backwards. Is generally a smart thing to do right after you vowed to someone they should watch their back. The blood is picked up on her way, unless he stops her.

Clarence's fumes as he allows that woman to back away up the stairs, finally come to the realization that anything he does won't get across the message that its still her fault. As he slowly raises to his own feet, brushing himself off, as his eyes had narrowed as they remain of the female form, "You've still only got yourself to blame…" He taunts, as he stands at the base of the steps, his hands coming up to cross over his chest, "No matter who else you want to pick a fight with."

Susan shrugs as she takes the final step, letting the taunt slide off when she looks at the bloodshot eyes, her handy work. "Still. Get. Even." Only when she's well and fully upstairs, does she turn, with a last victorious, toothy smile back down to him.

Clarence stands his dark eyes bloodshot, narrowed as he watches her turns, that toothy smile rewards with a long single hiss from between his teeth, "If this is you getting even…" He chuckles, allowing the sound to carry up the stair case, following the woman as she turns and heads away, "Wait until its my turn…"

~ FIN ~

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