Medieval Times

Before even entering the building, one can leave the city behind.
Ivy-covered towers of the Dallas Castle give the locale some majesty. Along with the ivy covered walls is a large moat filled with schools of live Koi.
Once past the doors, the lobby, and the ticket booths, one can get their picture taken with a member of the King's court. Just beyond this is a small shopping area, accompanied with a bar, and a viewing area to see the livestock before the show.
Immense oak-wooden doors that sit on cast iron hinges open to a cavernous entryway, decorated with pennants, pinions and standards that hang upon the wall. Large bronze sconces are attached to the stonework walls, their fires lighting the path to the main dining area.
The dining area is decorated much the same, though tapestries sit on the walls rather than the heraldric pennons. Large rough oaken tables are set around the room, all ringing a large sand arena. Bronze candelabras sit on each table with beeswax candles set and lit when the restaurant is open for business.
The arena is covered with dark tan sand; something that will keep moisture for the proper footing of both horses at the joust and for soldiers at the sword. At either side of the arena are large iron gates that lead into the deeper recesses of the restaurant where the horses are housed and holding rooms are located. Only those with clearance may access those areas.

Approval could be heard once swords clashed between the two combatants, some pretend knight and another not so slender, putting to the test their slightly above mediocre skills of sword swinging and muffled grunts. The aromas of roasted chicken and lamb filled the air along with sweat, methane and other pungent smells. There were worse odors however Braeden would still appear indifferent to them all.

Even as he chose a table, not a regular here, furthest from the arena and called in a fake reservation for the two tables both on his right and left. No need to further challenge temptation. Nothing was on the table except maybe the necessary utensils such as metal plates made of copper rather than silver and two copper gem-encrusted goblets for that authentic feel. Instead of eying the match between the two mortals, Braeden suffered under extreme tunnel vision with the Blackberry in his left hand.

With a trickle of blood hanging from the side of his mouth, Marius enters the great dining hall, led by the clanging of swords of the breathers below on the sandy floor. The source of the blood is immediately evident as he carries a small bag in hand, and pulls out a small morsel and pops it into his mouth with each fifth or so step. He pauses his snack only to wipe his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, more causing a smear than a clean. Eyes of cold crystal blue scan the room as he enters, and setting his expression into dead impassivity as his gaze lands upon the pair of tables that lie empty. This can be a case of presumptiousness or good planning on the other's part. As the Whip is, as of yet, unacquainted with the vampire in question and only knows of him by some slight reputation, the jury, as they say, is still out.
Suffice it to say that it doesn't make him very happy to give the appearance that he his seeking audience rather than the other way around, and his manner certainly expresses that even if his mien does not. He approaches regardless, and once within easy earshot, his voice takes a low, basso tone, his words clipped in a german accent.
"I see you have set tables aside for us. This is good." Marius is willing to give the benefit of the doubt. For the moment. After all, he's in a comparitively decent mood. "It implies planning on your part."

Whether it was necessary or not, Braeden had already brought his texting to a pause and rose from his seat in greeting the Whip. "Good evening and I should hope it would considering my nightly obligations." He peels his eyes away for a brief glance around him. Three tables total but truly only one would be necessary. "First off, I do appreciate your time. I will make an effort not to swallow up the majority of it." The phone is slipped back into a leather forged holster attached to his belt. "I have been away, for quite some time actually. It is not a surprise to me that a certain mouthy vampire has been made an example of?"

A brief nod of his head is given in acknowledgment and doubles as a response to the other's opening statement of appreciation. Marius closes the bag in his hand with quick fingers and pulls out a seat to sit down. It is once he is down and settled comfortably enough, he answers the question.
"She had her tongue ripped out." By the Sheriff, but that doesn't need to be said. "And for a time, she was under my supervision for.. retraining." He pauses, his expression set easily neutral, "It was there that I discovered a couple of interesting things about her. But.." The topic is changed, "She has settled back to her duties well, am I to understand?"

Braeden follows suit: sinking into the wooden chair with two pillows for the rear and against the back. Not the most comfortable things but he will manage. "Really." He says about the tongue removal and absent of any facial gestures to show neither being amused or sullen. However the pretenses of being alive are there. Occasionally his eyes will blink, the chest rise and fall and a controlled but mockingly uncontrolled idle movements. "With the AVL? I was unaware we would allow her back. In truth she wasn't too bad. She managed to complete assignments under a heavy fist."

"I was led to believe there was no choice in that assignment." As per the Magister. "Unless there is something that supercedes that command, of which I am unaware." Marius deigns to allow a momentary flicker of expression of consideration befor he finishes, "I will speak to the Lady regarding such."
He looks to Braeden now, "I care not, ultimately, where it is she goes as long as she either behaves herself or makes such a large error that her death is signed in a writ." Anything in between is a pain.

"It was part of her assignment. Her having no choice and the AVL under the belief we could help. Some are beyond that. For a short time, I do mean small, she was manageable. It is revealed maybe she enjoys causing trouble or being at the other end of a lash." Braeden, like a human, shrugs, "As she was under my watch I am petitioning the Magister to reassign her." As for the later of Marius' words the younger vampire rubs to his forehead. "And what if no one cares to have her?"

"I am unaware how often the Magister entertains a change of his decision based upon the annoyance of others," Marius shakes his head, "There is no choice in the matter as far as I am concerned. If the Magister says that you are the one that must aid in her sentence, there is naught but 'Yes, my lord'. If the Sheriff decrees that I am her keeper, there is naught but to say 'Yes, my Lady'. Choices for us are few and far between, child." He sounds almost.. kindly? Fatherly? "Even for one such as myself."
Marius understands, certainly, but there really is little pity for the plight of employer or 'employee'. "She has a guard with her at all times. He is a vampire named Marcus. He assures her.. behavior. Susan is aware that should she fall, she will be under my tender mercies full in the understanding that things will not go well for her."

"Of course." Braeden's head dips in a bow, acknowledgement and understanding. An unkindness unto him from the Magisters as if he too was undergoing some rehabilitation. "How long will Marcus be in attendance? Is he the Sherriff's eyes and ears?

"Marcus will be in attendance until such time the Lady is assured of the girl's behavior. He reports back to the Lady regularly, and she to me to either carry out punishment or to leave it another day. She has, so far, behaved properly so as not to garner my attentions."
Marius allows a simple shrug to lift a single shoulder. "With that report, your request to the Magister may not go well. I can not and will not lie before one who has my final death within his command." Not his 'hands', mind. Marius would not go down without a great struggle.
"If she is the least bit difficult, it is to come to our attention."

"No my Lord, I would not ever expect you to lie. Even with this." Hope isn't crushed, not yet. With Susan being wheeled back under Braeden's watch the vampire cannot help but roll his eyes as he allows himself to accept a possibly reformed nuisance. "So what am I to do with a mute vampire?" He asks forwardly, "Teach her to walk around with signs? Or how about sit there and look pretty for cameras. The moment she opens her mouth there will be questions."

"I am no lord." Marius is quick to correct that. He claims no noble birth, no noble title. He simply is 'Marius, the Whip'. "To say otherwise is against Rights." Divine right.
"Her tongue grows back slowly. Until it does, she has been using paper to write messages to communicate. She should be healed fully in another month." Or so.
"She knows enough that she is not to gain attention as to her current situation. If not, she will spend the rest of her recovery with me." Which apparently is a threat for her.. and for most. "If she is too much, there is something, I am sure, that can be done without forcing the Magister to reconsider his position."

"I see." Which could be applied to a great many of things stated just moments prior but Braeden doesn't take the time to make a clear distinguish. "What of her belongings? Before this unpleasant act occurred she had moved into a condo. Will Marcus be residing with her as well? And what of the girl. The details elude me but is she alright? The human one."

"She now has a room at the Carmilla and Marcus remains with her. A letter has been fashioned and apologies have been given, as is proper. We have checked the letter for accuracies and she has edited it several times until it is to our liking."
Marius places his small bag on the table and pulls a leg up to lay across the other. "When she left the Estate, she was ready and eager to resume her employment; a model employee. She slept in my chamber for a few days and I woke to see her dressed and at the door, ready to depart each time. How long this rehabilitation will last is unknown, but suffice it to say that this round of punishment has given her a fresh perspective on her behavior and how she is supposed to behave."

"True? " Braeden seems genuinely surprised-eyes opening wider from Marcus' words as if he was likely to find a flaw amongst them. Some bit of humor attached to reveal the female vampire had undergone a brain transplant which would be the most logical and accepted reason. "I am taken back to be honest. She had reminded many of us who forget how to be civil. This will be good having her pleasant and mindful of her actions and words. A shame it had not occurred sooner for her. " MacKiernan then pulls himself from lounging against the chair, the stubborn wood unpolished and threatening to cause a splinter or two. "I should thank you and the Sheriff then, for giving her the opportunity to change her ways rather than the alternative. She is promising you know. In some aspect. With a skill I have yet to discover. But something is there."

Marius looks unblinkingly at the other, younger vampire. "She has learned a new appreciation for life, and for proper comportment. She has learned that it is not in her best interest to speak unreasoningly but rather, keep her silence as befits her station."
Inclining his head, the Whip makes to rise. "If you find her other than the way I have described, we wish to know. If you do, there is no need to send a missive to tell us. It is what we expect." The bag is retaken, but not yet reopened. "I hope you use this meeting as counsel before any request to the Magister occurs. I have business with a demon horse now, so.. I am certain you know your way."

Braeden says, "Yes, " Braeden starts, "You both will be the first to know should anything occur." The vampire reaches to the leather holster on his belt line but does not yet remove the cellular device. It's annoying to watch someone fiddle with the phone while speaking face to face with another, a habit reserved only for the simple minds and hormone crazed teenagers. "I do and again, thank you for your time in clarifying this arrangement. Good night Whip.""

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