Interlude

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.


Approximately an hour (or so) has passed with the men downstairs handling their discussion. It was not long ago that James returned and left with the dogs. Isobel has not truly moved. Sitting upon the couch, several parcels now unwrapped and set about on the tables and furniture. Yet she looks as though she has been still the entire time.
Only a few hours left before the dawn, she must sort out the gifts and decide who will be receiving what.
Every few minutes, she points to a parcel then points to a different area of the estate. She'll recall who belongs to what 'area' of her home, so she will know where to go for their gifts.

—-

James' departure reveals nothing of the conversation Sire and Child had downstairs. The younger vampire's exit is exactly the same as years past, and undoubtedly years to come.
Marius' rise up the stairs and into the Vault comes soon after, the black, silk shirt now sitting lightly upon his frame. The door is closed behind him, and he crosses the distance easily to the couch where Isobel has set her self up, surrounded by boxes and items to be handed out. Stopping short, he stands at something of attention, deferential in his manner.
"My Lady.." It's an announcement of his arrival, an acknowledgment that she had wanted to speak with him, and a tacit request to aid her in her endeavors, should she desire it.

—-

"Sit."
Indeed, Isobel has just ordered the man around like a pup.
"I take it that the two of you have worked out whatever differences there were and I have no need to worry about bloodshed up here?" The slight movement from her position has her eyeing the Whip with an icy stare.
"The shirt suits you well. I had bought it for Valentinus, but I believe it would have been too large for his frame."

—-

Marius takes a seat, his fingers entwining in his lap, and he leans slightly in an almost casual air. Ordered around like a pup or not, it is his place and his duty to obey, so there is no ire, no anger, nothing that would even begin to suggest that he's anything other than willing to follow her command. There is that moment when he does consider contradicting the Lady in that there really wasn't that much of an issue, and has to weigh his position.
"We spoke, my Lady. We discussed, and there is no need for concern over bloodshed. James and I have ever been brothers in battle." Marius pauses, adding, "You are aware I am his sire." Of course.
The shirt receives some attention as Isobel draws her own to it. "It is a gift for which I give you thanks. It would become Valentinus as well, I believe, though you are correct. I am slightly larger than he in build."

"I am glad for that then. I will cancel the call to the cleaners." Jesting? Serious? Isobel's absolute mask of neutrality does not reveal the answer one way or the other. "Yet you seemed a tad more surly not long ago, so it was best to ensure that things were right between you."
There is a gentle tap to the couch beside her, so that he will slip a little closer. "I will not pry. I remember what it is like to have such emotional moments between myself and my Child." A pause. "The Child before Elliott that is." Something she rarely speaks of.
"Several more shirts then, will be in your room when you awake in the evening." Though she obviously has some in varying sizes. With that which she brought with her it would seem as though she bought out most of the shops in Tokyo.

"There is little between us that cannot be solved with visiting an Inn and drinking deeply, or taking sword and finding those who offend us." Talk solves nothing in Marius' mind.. and so it is more than likely that a couple of bags were broken downstairs. "There is no need to concern yourself with us. We are ever under your command, my Lady and your will is our desire."
Marius does slide closer, his head inclining in acknowledgment, the topic passing easily from his mind. If there is a desire to press regarding a Child before Elliott, it remains unspoken. Instead, "You have busied yourself. Are you planning to add to your number simply to have them wear that which you have purchased? Or, perhaps, is it a challenge laid before your own to wear each once before we reach our final death?"

—-

"I would know what it was that caused you to tear your other shirt." This is as close as Isobel gets to actually requesting the information. "I have never known it to be like you to destroy something which you own."
There is a small laugh. A glance at the Whip. "There was much idle time with Nan. Shopping was the best way for me to be able to feed. A nip here or there. Several hundred dollars spent and excellent glamours put into place so that none would mind." Those to whom she is closest know her secret.
"Not all is clothing either." A large, long box is reached for and offered to the man. Quickly following it are two smaller boxes. "These are for you."

—-

Isobel certainly does know her Whip well. There is very little that Marius owns, and that little he does, he keeps in pristine condition and order; the life of a soldier virtually demands it. Thus, his armour, what finery he does possess, and the original favour granted him.
"I dislike surprises." Granted, there was no time, nor was there opportunity given to learn.. but that bit certainly didn't enter into consideration for one such as himself. "As I said.. there is no issue." Inclining his head, he cants it ever so slightly, "I will reimburse you for the cost of the shirt, Lady, if it is your desire?"
It's an honest offer, not one that holds anything but what it is. A hallmark of dealing with the Whip.
"So, you were able to survive the visit and shop. I am suitably impressed." He's still teasing her, after a fashion..
As the other boxes are slid across and they're offered to him, Marius pauses, his hands hovering above the boxes after he settles it in his lap. The weight, obviously, is different than the clothing boxes.. and first looking at Isobel, turns his attention back to the box.. the larger of the two first. Pulling off the top, there is a long object wrapped in deep blue silk. Reaching in, Marius finds the 'top', and with his other hand, unwraps and reveals a Japanese katana, the handle wrapped in eelskin. Lifting it from its resting place, he looks as if he wants to unsheath it there and then, but with him in such close proximity of Isobel, even though he obviously can control the blade, any testing of its balance would be difficult.. though not impossible.
"It is a remarkable gift, my Lady.. and one.. that finds me questioning my worthiness of such a present?"

—-

"The cost is nothing, think not on it." Truly, as fancy as the shirt is here by American standards, it was very low-cost in Japan. "Besides it is my pleasure to replace the one that you lost on account of me."
Eyes drift in his direction then, and she smirks. "There is very little that surprises us these days, Marius. I should think that you would embrace the surprise rather than let it anger you." No further information requested, so none is given.
"The two smaller weapons are part of the set as well. I have been assured of their quality and was privy to a demonstration by the maker that proved his craftsmanship is beyond compare."
His question poses a very long silence from the woman. When the Sheriff finally speaks her voice is kept even. "Because I felt like bestowing it upon you." There may be more, the true reason may just have been 'because you are my swordarm and I want you properly equipped', but it would seem that her words are sincere either way.

—-

"I am still in possession of the small telephone you gave me," and if that's not proof enough that he can embrace 'surprises', in his own medieval way, Marius continues, "It has not found its way to the bottom of a lake as a result of my ire."
His attention comes back around to the smaller weapons, and the next box is opened, but only after the larger sword is rewrapped in its silk. "It is a gift that will be cherished through the centuries." And will undoubtedly be used, once he feels and attunes to the balance of the blade. Make no mistake, however.. any blade in his hand is a deadly weapon..
"Perhaps tomorrow evening with the falling of the sun I shall find James again and we will retire briefly to the arena before our evening begins, fulfilling your requests of us."

—-

Isobel has no idea why the man cherishes her gifts so much, but had she a truly beating heart the sentiment would surely warm it. As is he is given one of her odd, rare smiles. Eyes twinkling almost as though she were alive.
"I am glad for that. Should you need help with it, do let me know. I have found them useful. Eventually you will as well."
As he sets the larger katana away for the smaller weapons she leans toward him. Her hand rests upon his shoulders. "You will need to see to it that James is given a key to the arena. As your Child he will be welcome there any time."
There falls a comfortable silence before she adds, "I am well pleased that you like your gift. I could not pass it up when I saw it. Especially considering the vampire who forged it used the old techniques."

—-

The reason is simply; Marius, up until two months ago, has lived a life of a Spartan.. austerity is the word, out of necessity. He cares for none, and none care for him.
Now, two months in after arriving in Dallas, he has a roof over his head, a constant and consistent supply of blood, and work under a Master and Mistress whom he's respected from centuries ago and understand the monster within him. Where once he's lived in the joy of the moment, now there are plans.. purposes above war and death, though ultimately, he knows his hand leads back to death, and is supposed to.
He's good with that.
At the leaning upon his shoulder, Marius turns his head slightly to study the smooth, pale skin of the Lady who sits so closely. There's the urge to reach out to stroke the flesh there, a gentle gesture of centuries past, though it is resisted, at least for that moment. "Yes, I will be certain. He will appreciate the opportunities it affords as we do."
He enjoys silence, and to sit beside Isobel in such proximity is a pleasure that he has not experienced a good number of centuries. Since court, really.. In this twenty-first century, there is little that has changed within his memory.. the pleasure that winds into her tones, the delight that is expressed in little ways.
His brows rise in askance, mimicking the human expression, his voice canted low. "Oh? A vampire forged this." This certainly bears looking in to more deeply, and the tests of strength will be a great deal more rigorous. "You have good taste indeed, my Lady."

—-

"Indeed I do, Marius. I would not dare insult you with a weapon forged by human hands. Only a sword with centuries of knowledge behind it is fitting for a man like you." The Sheriff's voice is kept even and neutral. She does not move nor does she smile. Yet her body language is that of someone who is extremely comfortable with the person beside her.
In a manner that she generally reserves only for her Maker, Isobel finally moves to rest her head upon Marius' shoulder.
"I know that it is not as sturdy as a European blade, but I do hope that the weapon will please you in battle. Even if it is only used at the arena."

—-

Marius does lift a hand to shift some of the light blonde hair that falls against his skin, pushing it back gently. "Then I will use it specifically to give your enemies their final death. With this, and your favour, there is no one who could stand between me and the duty in which you send me to perform." He pauses, and his hand falls away, but remains close, just in case those strands fall across the pale perfection of her face. "Unless it is the king." Of course.
What is it about the form and figure of a woman that beguiles? A monster, by all claim, and a brute.. sharing a quiet moment with a Lady? The Lady? "My dearest lady.. you continue to surprise me with your generosity. Would that I could return it measure for measure."
Again, his hand rises, taking the moment to reach out to lightly touch her hair once more. "Let me find a vessel, and we will share it."

—-

Isobel quirks her brow upward.
"You and I both know that I wish no ill will for my Sire. In fact, above my own safety your sword will be his first." Thus, if Valentinus ever feels the need to do away with her, she would prefer it be from Marius' hand.
"The night is no longer young," she points out quietly. "Tomorrow we shall share a vessel. Your choice. It has been centuries since we have done so." That comfortable silence remains, Isobel likely reminiscing in her own mind in regards to the aforementioned event.

—-

If the deed were ever to be done, it would be Marius that would insist upon his hand being the one. He would do the same for his sword brother, brothers.. just as he expects that should he be beyond hope, one that he holds in regard be the one.
"Tomorrow then, my lady. I will find one suitable to our purpose," is agreed.
Marius enjoys the quiet, having re-learned comparitively recently that comfortable silence can be had in the presence of others; a fact long forgotten in his travels. Now that he shares the company of women.. women?, that companionable silence is quickly becoming a desired thing.
Who would ever equate quiet and women?
As Isobel rests upon his shoulder, Marius hums softly, whispering some of the words of a song learned in court so many centuries ago.. the middle english oddly accented.. just as it had been when regularly spoken.

—-

"You remembered," Isobel says, her voice kept so quiet that none, not even the vampires near the door are going to be apt to hear her.
His humming is joined by her own, though she's long forgotten the lyrics the tune is one that stayed with her.
When there comes a lull in the song, she smiles. "I greatly look forward to tomorrow evening then. We shall make a night of it, hmm? Just like the old days?" Isobel loves mainstreaming, much more than that of her counterparts here at the estate. Still, the odd night for enjoyment must still be had. "Just ensure you find someone willing."

—-

The humming and skimming of the words is continued, his head ducking slightly in encouragement of the duet, even if she simply continues to hum.
"My memory is good, my lady… the passage of time dulls not my mind…" Marius offers a rare hint of a smile, a genuine one, and his voice remains low, "though passing time here beside you addles my wit into the belief that I am other than what I am. But if it be so, I am still at your mercy, and will find one willing to give us our pleasure."
He has no desire to move from the spot on the couch, even though he knows that it will be time to retire to chambers soon. "When you had joined me across the border, that was a joy.. and tomorrow? A delight.. a feast of the senses." Pain and pleasure.. blood and .. pleasure.

—-

When she had joined him across the border it was out of sheer anger at her Maker for actually ordering her to do something. The sheer gall of it, rather than simply asking her…
… needless to say that it made her unnecessarily destructive that evening. A chink in the humanity she clings to from time to time. Something that must be kept from her own Child. Valentine will know what she was up to, their bond that strong thanks to his abilities. There is no hiding things from him.
"Do not allow me to addle your wit too much," she offers, with a laugh. "Tomorrow it will be like it once was. Perhaps I shall even join you on the hunt as it were. We will not be able to skillfully play it as we did at court, but the new challenge shall be fun."

—-

The glory that was Isobel in her anger was a sight to behold. There was no pretense of humanity, nothing holding the form and figure to that which had once given her life before what she'd become so long ago. Marius' feedind and rending, or perhaps the other way around, was heightened by her desire to pull apart her victim; the screams and pleas falling on deaf ears.
"If it settles your troubled mind about my addled state, I can go and baptise my new swords, and have my victims sing your praises in a delightful soprano.." The men. "Serving as a fount for you to drink from before, during and after."
Touching his cheek to the top of her head, should her own still be resting upon his shoulder, his voice remains low.. and private. "Hunt with me, my lady. The challenge that lies before us within the city is one that must needs be met."

—-

"You are a demon, Marius," Isobel states, with a hint of humor to her tone. "A tempter."
Legs curl up onto the couch and she nestles herself against him.
"I think we need not go that far, though the thought amuses me. Perhaps you can have your fun with Darcy or any of the other troubling wretches in the area." There are messages and requests already in play with the Magister to seek permission for the ability to handle their own woes for a while without him.
"Hunt with you I shall, though we will treat the city as we did the court. With much discretion until we are within the privacy of our chambers."

—-

Marius moves a protective arm, effectively tucking Isobel in as she finds comfort fully against him, nestling in.
"I will enjoy my time with your thorn. Plucking the sharpened points from his stem until there is nothing left.. the petals long fallen as a faded flower." And there is no doubt that once the vampire is within the Estate being dealt with, Marius will invite the lady to attend.
With Isobel's acquiescence that he will have the pleasure of her company on the Hunt, and that sport is once more to be found therein, there is little else that needs to be said other than the soft acknowledgment, "It will be as you say, my lady. All of it."

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