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.
With the evening well on its way, Clarence having left to his own devices tonight, as he knew Ms Baker was safely left up in her room, as the vampire cradles a bottle of O+, as he'd taken his seat upon one of the many leather chairs situated, leaning back in it. Allowing his dark eyes to just wonder around the room, taking in how white this area appears, giving no place for any shadows to form or to hide, depending on what is being done in those shadows. As he slowly allows his finger to tap slowly at the bottle.
It's been one of those evenings. If anyone walked into a city hospital with the amount of blood, saturated into the white cotton shirt, that Marius has on the front of his chest, on his hands, his face, trauma surgeons would come in from miles around to check on injuries. With the absence of wounds, the next step would be to call the police.
Marius is not walking into a hospital and there is no one on staff that would begin to have the brass ones to make a call to the local constabulary.
Stalking down the halls and into the Vault, the frowning, single-minded Whip makes a bee-line directly to the refrigerator where the bags are stored, just behind the bottles. Second one of the evening; he'll have to remember to replace them. Those two drinks, as well as his mid-evening nip from the sheep who bled a little more than she thought she aught to have. Or, perhaps she thought that every vampire seduced their meal before drinking.. and then had amazing sex afterwards?
The fangbangers really got it wrong this time.
"No, Gregory. Absolutely not. I do not care if it is a Pack function, you will extract yourself from it." The gentle, but steady clack of boots can be heard in the foyer before the Sheriff of Area 9 enters the Vault proper. "Oh for heavens sake! I will deal with Donato. I have no clue why you are afraid of the man." Icy blue eyes roll ceilingward, and she snaps the phone shut. Dropping it back into her pants pocket, she takes a look at Marius.
"Henceforth, you will shower before entering the estate, or at least use the hose to get the worst of the blood off. I will not have droplets staining my carpet."
With the silenct of the vault broken by the sound of a sudden flurry of bodies entering, Clarence's dark gaze glances to the blood stained man, an eyebrow cocking slightly, the only indication that he shows any intrest in the man, as his tapping upon that bottle too has stopped as his head snaps towards the entrance to the Vault, hearing those footsteps before the Sheriff too enters. His lips pulling up at the corner, as he brings the bottle of blood to his lips, taking a swig as it covers a smile that was forming on his lips, while he watches and listens to the Sheriff dealing with the bloodstained man.
The bag of 'O' is pulled from the back of the refrigerator, and as Marius turns around, his teeth on the top of the bag to tear it open, he freezes in place at the sound of Isobel's voice, and the chastising tones. Rising to his full height, the shirt sticks to his body in places, his hands leaving the ghost of a bloody imprint on the refrigerator handle.
And his expression?
Lowering his hand that holds the bag, his face goes blank. It's only for a fleeting second before he offers something of a stately bow that has absolutely no hint of mockery in it whatsoever. It's a genuine obeissance, complete with, "Pardon, my Lady." Twisting around to gesture at the mugs, he grabs one quickly before making the request, "Just one more, and I will be sure to retire to my chambers to change?"
Clarence wasn't noticed on his path in, but now.. now that he's not seeing 'red', as it were, he makes note of the man on the couch. A step forward is taken, and he reaches out to cuff the man, his voice a low, even, commanding tone.
"Rise when the Lady Isobel enters the room."
A stern, icy look is leveled upon Marius for the bloody handprint upon the refrigerator. A stern, icy look that then turns into something of a smirk.
"Of course, Marius, and have Ms. Baker sent back upstairs to clean up whatever mess you've made. If my intel is correct and she was indeed a lady's maid, then she should be acting like one."
Not that Isobel has ever afforded herself such a luxury, but appearances are everything.
Without bothering with the bodyguard for a moment, she makes her way to the kitchen and gets herself a bag of AB Negative, gently opening it and pouring it into her favored mug. Then she slips to the microwave, avoiding the blood on the Whip which caused her hunger to rise in the first place, and sets the mug inside to heat it up to the appropriate temperature. There is not a movement made toward her favored guard to stop the small attack, nor does she seem perturbed by it. After all, she must let Marius grow his reputation if he is to become useful to her.
With the vampire stepping up to him, its hard for Clarence not to have his training and reflexes kick in, as he straightens in his seat, yet he stops himself from raising his hand to stop the Whip, allowing the cuffing to occour. Slowly raising from his seat, as instructed his eyes cold and hard, as he ignores the Whip for now, his hand slightly clenching, nails digging into his palm, as he turns his attention to the Sheriff, "My apologises, Sheriff." He offers, as he gives the woman a slight bow, bending his body slightly, before raising back up to his proper height.
"She.." Marius' voice is accented German, and the words are set in an even tone, "is not your equal. Our King.. is not your equal. I.. am not your equal." He doesn't stop, however, just to be sure the point is brought home. "The common vampires outside these walls are not your equal." He hopes he's got the differences across. There is a heirarchy, and one is never to forget one's place.
There is no shame in serving.
Once that is done, however, he swings back to face Isobel, and once again inclines his head. "I will see to it, my Lady."
Stepping past to a table, now taking care of the white with his red, he tears the bag and empties it into his mug, but runs his finger in the liquid as he waits for Isobel's drink to finish warming.
"You are.. the property of the Lady Isobel." It's a statement and a question. "I have seen your work played out on our little maid."
"Apologies accepted," Isobel says with a gentle incline of her head. "Though you should perhaps learn to mask your emotions a little better."
As Marius runs through the hierarchy, she extracts the mug from the microwave and drinks liberally from it. When he finally responds to her, she looks almost… delighted? Well yes. Susan has become a bit of annoyance, and bringing her down a notch will suit the Sheriff well. "Have her don one of the aprons in the kitchen as well, and if you chance to do it near one of the cameras, I would be most delighted." Just to see the look upon her face.
"He is a vassal, Marius, not property. The only one I truly own is at my new little establishment as we speak."
Allowing for his hand to unclench, Clarence accepts the Sheriffs advice, forgetting what is being said, as he drops all for of emotion from his face, it becoming a blank slate, even more so as he hears the talk of him being property. While he gives another incline of his head as he allows for the Whip to lecture him on heirarchy, standing stiff as a rock, he slowly raises his own cooling bottle of blood to his lips, as he takes a slow sip. "I am my own property, but I am one, that will do what ever is asked of me…" He answers, as he allows the bottle to lower from his lips.
In Marius' world, a vassel is property; a creature to be done with whatever pleased the Lord and Lady. And in return, the promise of protection, and in his case, the promise of a swift final death by the hand of a trusted ally should circumstances warrant it.
Nothing in the centuries of life ever changed that base idea, and it's one that keeps the man serving, and loyally. It's what Will believes of him, and undoubtedly, it is a tacit understanding of the Lady Isobel's as well.
"I will do so, my Lady."
Pulling his finger out of the refrigerated blood, he licks the blood off it, and cleans a small path of the dried blood of his sheep before he puts the mug in and carefully closes the door so as not to get any blood on the microwave.
Straightening once again, Marius stares at the man, his expression blank, devoid of anything before he quizzes, "Would you give your life for her? Would you kill at her command, or die in the attempt?" His words are growing more heavily accented as he goes along; this is probably quite unfair to the bodyguard, but for the veteran, he needs to know the answers from the other vampire's own lips.
"But of course he would, do you think I would hire anyone that would not?" Then again, it is much like her to question Marius, as much as it is like him to question those in her employ — each of them is doing their duty.
"Ahh, good, Clarence. You learn swiftly, and I do like that. Your emotions should always be a mask, not something that we should be showing often. Especially as a guard." She sips from the mug, then gently asks, "How are you finding your new charge?" She has yet to really move far from Marius, though mostly due to the fact that she thinks she will need another bag of blood shortly and hates to expend the energy moving around if she doesn't have to.
Returning the stare, his dark brown eyes dead to the world, Clarence answers the man question, "I'd kill, die, or do what ever else is required." Breaking away from the mans stare, he turns his gaze upon the Sheriff, "She is abit of a handful, but nothing that I can't and haven't managed before." Just a flicker of a smile appears on his lips, before it disappears once more revealing that stone like facade, as he too brings up his bottle, taking another slower swig, as he nears the end of his drink.
At Isobel's words, Marius turns around, once again gently chastised. Reminded that he is questioning the decision of the Lady, he is at least pleased he's gotten the questions in. After all, hiring warriors isn't necessarily a Lady's strength. Errors can and have been made in the past.
"I am certain that you and Valentinus have made the best decision and I am being unduly cautious. You have my apologies, my Lady."
The microwave sounds its *ding*, and Marius reaches in to take the warmed mug of blood. The finger goes in once again and swirls are made in the dark, crimson liquid where his finger passes.
Inclining his head at the bodyguard's response, he seems content with the response. As the conversation moves towards the 'new charge', Marius takes the opportunity to drink from the mug. He simply… isn't a neat and tidy drinker. He probably used to wear his beer before he was turned as well! (Not to mention half of his dinner at feasts.)
Some blood drips down his chin, and leaning back, remembers quickly that it is an all-white room… and drains the mug before catching and wiping his chin, his mouth.. Either he will be immediately dismissed, or he should probably beg leave to change.. and shower before much longer…
"Do not apologize, Marius. It is a breath of fresh air to have someone being more cautious than myself in residence." Ergo, Isobel feels much safer having another sword arm in her home.
"Mm. Should Ms. Baker give you any trouble, Clarence, I wish for you to bring her directly to Marius' quarters, and lock her in until he returns. Should he return to find the door locked and you standing guard outside, he will know what to do." It is then that she moves, merely to grab a darkly colored towel to offer it to the Whip, to wipe some of his blood up.
"I should, perhaps, redecorate the residence a little once the King has his own home again. As much as I love the decor, white does seem a bit bothersome with all the blood that is in the Vault."
Lowering the now finished bottle from his lips, as his tongue darts out to clean his lips, leaving hardly a trace that he'd just finished his bottle, he gives the Sheriff a nod, "I doubt she'll give me anymore trouble," Turning his gaze back onto the Whip, as he watches the blood drip down that man's chin. "And I'm sure the meer threat of being locked up in his quarters will keep her under control." He gives a chuckle at that, as he moves across to the bar, placing the bottle down, as he glances towards the stairway leading up towards his charge. With the start of talk of decorating this sparse area, Clarence decides now is a good time to ask, "May I take my leave?" Directing the question to the Sheriff but giving both vampires a bow of his head.
Acknowledgment of Isobel's thanks is offered in the form of a straight-legged click of boots coming together at the heel, and a touch of a bow with the words, "My lady," uttered softly. The fairer, weaker sex she may be, but all due respect and honour is also hers, and he'll be sure that it is demanded of all.
Nodding slowly as he puts the mug down in the sink, he takes the towel with a whispered, 'My thanks' before he starts to clean himself up, if only a little. "She spent the day's rest in my chambers and woke before I. She was alert as I regained sense. Once again, she will be spending the day in my chambers, and I would get to the bottom of it, to see what it is that allows her to do such a thing, or if it was simply chance not to be repeated." As for any question or concern that the slip of a vampire could or would possibly injure him? Not even worth a mention. "And to be locked in as punishment, that.. you are correct. She would not do well with that." Particularly as he has absolutely no qualms to end her life as if he was simply snuffing a candle. No remorse. No pity.
"And, my Lady, if you have need, I can suggest such things that would delight the King's eye in the way of decor. Tapestries.. something warm, yet reminiscent of days of glory. Deep azure, crimson reds, golden yellows. I am certain that if you found your coat of arms, he would much approve of it.."
Turning from the conversation of redecorating, Marius inclines his head in acknowledgment of the man's respect. He has absolutely no issue with allowing the man his leave from them, but waits on the lady's will.
"Yes, of course, Clarence. You may seek out Susan in the chambers down below, and move your belongings to the room off of mine for the duration of Ms. Baker's stay in Marius' chambers." It is 'Marius' now, as she loathes to have to pronounciate the surname.
"When the time arises to redecorate then, Marius, we shall see to the shopping. I should like to hear your opinion on such things, and though I do not wish to make too many changes, the white may have to go." Especially with the way that the new Whip seems to like to eat. While she won't go so far as to bathe the room in red and black, she will attempt to make things a little more blood friendly.
Having received permission, Clarence gives another deeper tilt of his head, "Thank you, Sheriff" As he quickly leaves the room, with the sound of decorating in the air, as he goes in search of his charge.
Marius watches the bodyguard exit the room, and with another wipe of the towel on his face inclines his head in response to the request made of him. "It will be my honour, my Lady." To turn the place into something less.. sterile and more livable? Absolutely. "I am in complete agreement in regards to the white. It is too.. clean. It shows nothing of who we are in the privacy of our own chambers. I should like to see charges on the walls, crests, tapestries.. Do you still remember how to sew them, Lady? Your hand was the finest."
Pausing in his cleaning, if Isobel was not present, he'd have removed his shirt. As she is, Marius inclines his head dutifully, "May I beg leave of you, lady, to change from this soiled clothing and into something cleaner?"
His memory will serve him well, and though it goes against her own policy of showing no emotions, she actually smiles proudly. "You have my thanks for the compliment. It has been a while since I have tried my hand at the necessary embroidery and needlepoint, but it is not a skill one easily forgets. The difficulty comes in finding time for such a thing, though I may have a few that just need mending."
Like many vampires, she has been loathe to destroy any part of her old life, and thus has scores of items from her travels and her homes in storage throughout the world.
"Of course you may," she replies with a dip of her head, icy neutrality returning to her features. "Take your time, and ensure that Clarence has not gotten lost on his way to find Ms. Baker."
"The sash I carry with me still holds threads from your hand, lady." While Marius certainly won't go as far and as presumptious as calling it a 'favour', it is something that he has worn with his armour and into countless battles.
Allowing her to do with the information what she may, Marius begins to take his leave; first with a click of his heels and following up with a bow. "As you wish." He'll be keeping an eye on Clarence; the man was too quick to claim no master or mistress, and that.. only makes his job a little harder. Not that he can't handle that, however…
Crossing the room to the door, he turns on his heel and offers a brief bow before departing downstairs to get cleaned up. The 'O' will have to hold him until tomorrow; no cross border trips until Susan is trustworthy enough, or dead.
