Business and pleasure

Sheriff's Estate - Isobel's Room


The way this main room is decorated denotes that this is likely a more formal parlor or sitting area, perhaps one used for entertaining guests. The room looks inviting and comfortable, possibly due to the lack of overhead lighting. The warmer light from area lamps cut down on the harsh high-contrast effect in other places.
The antique looking, Victorian furniture is set up in a semi-circle in the middle of the room, in a way that invites conversation. A slightly large hunter green velvet Victorian camel-back sofa, with royal blue, is the focal point for the setting. On either side of it are lamp/console tables, the legs of which are a deep cherry wood and the top being white Italian marble. In front of the couch is a round cocktail table matching the two side ones.
Completing the semi-circle are two hunter green chairs with the same blue trim. The smaller is a tufted lady's chair. The larger is a tufted arm chair, at the foot of which is an ottoman.
The walls in this room are the a soft white, decorated at top with a scrolling border of bright red. Heavy drapes made of material that matches the Fraser Gathering Tartan are against the back wall though there are no windows. The drapes are pulled back and held in place by white tassels. Behind the drapes is a medieval-style canopy bed with blackout curtains instead of ones that flow gently.


Rather eventful night, all told, and Marius is pretty sure it's not going to end until he lays his head within his chambers. Now, to speak with the Lady is the last on his list to do, and by all counts, it's the most important thing to be done.
A request for an audience granted, Marius now stands in the 'receiving room', as it were, and to meet within is a specific request by the Whip. The Vault is too open, too.. unofficial. Standing by the door, standing without a muscle moving unless he wills it, he waits.

—-

Leaning back on the sofa, Isobel dips her fingers lazily into the mug of warm blood. Freshly donated not long ago by one of her business contacts, thus the blood is still perfectly body warm. Her index finger trails over her lips, painting them a wonderful crimson hue.
Though she is aware of Marius' presence, she enjoys the blood. Dallying over it. Going so far as to very slowly lick the dripping blood from her lips before nodding at the man and inviting him into her 'abode' as it were.
"You smell like Mary's," she points out.

—-

Fresh blood.
Stepping forward at the permission given, Marius' fangs lowering, though the Whip would wish otherwise. It takes a great deal of will on his part to remain as.. straight.. as controlled as he is. His heels virtually click as he offers his bow of respect, blue eyes tracking from the mug of warm blood up to her painted lips, watching as her tongue moves across to clean.. imagining the feel of the slick life's essence.
"I had stopped there, yes.. and gained information, though it is not the most important thing I have need to convey." Inclining his head again, his gaze is rapt, and his words low and slow as he force them out. "I would seek your permission on a method to find and take a vampire that flaunts his presence within your City without due respects. The Egyptian that has been identified as Tareq."

—-

A sly smirk appears on her lips at the sight of the lowered fangs.
"I take it that you did not feed yourself fully." The mug is offered out to him as she licks the remainder of the blood off of her fingers. "Perhaps a different vintage than you are used to."
Though it would appear she is much more interested in the blood than the conversation, Isobel is listening. When he is finished she remains still and silent. "Tareq. This would be the vampire for whom you have sent Charles to 'guard' his claimed?"

—-

"It is my own fault, my Lady.."
Bowing once more, Marius takes the mug and takes a single swallow, his head rolling back in the pleasure of the warmth of it. Fresh.. even if there is a hint of something to it, there is no little reveling in the salty life's blood. It is only one that he takes, however, before he returns it with two hands, one holding the glass and one beneath it to cup and secure it from falling, the line of crimson drawn on the side of his mouth.
The fangs retract even as he passes it back to its rightful owner. "It is, Lady.
"I would have Charles announce his intentions to claim the breather. When it is heard, there is no choice but for Tareq to show to defend his claim."

—-

With a graceful movement the mug is taken and placed on the small cocktail table in front of the couch, and Isobel is upon her feet. A hand sets to Marius' shoulders as she rises herself up on the tips of her toes to gently lick the trail of blood from the side of his mouth.
Winking at him, she settles herself back upon the couch, hands cradling the mug once more.
"No entirely true. Are we certain this Tareq has a full claim upon the breather? If he does he may seek the Magister to have Charles done away with and I would so hate to lose such a valuable employee."
Sipping from the mug, she locks her icy blue eyes upon the Whip's face.
"Should this be how you wish to handle it I will send notification to the Magister before the night is out. I do not want that ornery man at my estate investigating us."

—-

Marius remains still as Isobel comes near, pressing her hands upon his shoulder to lift herself. He allows a smile as he can smell the drink that she has already consumed upon her lips, and he has to remind himself quite firmly that there is need for business first.. and the night is too far gone to find a willing vessel and to take their pleasure.
Much to his disappointment.
His gaze follows her to the couch where she settles, the blood cradled in delicate hands once again. He remains on his feet, not yet 'taking his comfort'.
"It is my thought, Lady, that because Tareq has not made his presence known to you, he is not within City Limits to make his claim known. His absence would lend credence to our lack of knowledge that the breather is, indeed, claimed. And should he appear, we already know that he has been present for a time before, and we may take him to task about that."

—-

"I saw that," she remarks in regards to the smile. "You should do that more often."
His words are weighed carefully against the potential issues the Magister would pose should the matter escalate. Each thought, each consideration is accented by a sip of the blood. When the mug has but two mouthfuls left, she offers it to Marius once more.
"Mm. Do we know for certain that the breather is not just trying to cause issue for our kind?" Lounging back on the couch once more she continues, "The idea has merits, and you are quite right in your thought. Ensure that Charles is made well aware of the risks, and that should he decide to undertake this and things work not in our favor, we will be unable to extract him."

—-

"There is naught that brings such a thing to my lips but when I am in your presence," Marius offers her another bow, though this one rivals the obeissance he'd offered in courts..
Though it is back to weightier matters immediately, and the light, flowery words cease, his manner and mien turning now strictly to the business at hand. "I care not for the breather. He may live or die. What concerns me is a vampire in your city that flaunts his disregard. And, it is by your order, to maintain peace. This one has created issue, viewed by humans as attacks, and I would keep that from causing you harm. It is what you bade me do." Later, they can speak of actions and perceptions and technicalities. "Charles will do as you command. He will begin the process of claim simply to draw him out."

—-

The bow brings a smile to Isobel's lips. Though the topic at hand is indeed weighty, the fact that they can have a little levity does indeed amuse her.
"Once you have set Charles in motion, there is another matter that needs a heavy hand." As it is what she bade him to do. "William Pemberly is back in Dallas. This time I wish to bring him under strict rule, or he will pose as an example for all who seek to cross me.
"He oft goes by the moniker of Darcy. He is known for selling our blood to the breathers. Ensure that this stops, and that he has not been doing so in Donato's area."

—-

"I will find him." Marius has heard the name, only as a passing annoyance. Now, however, to hear that he is in town? "I have already spoken to a two-souled named Cinco. He understands that should something with our own occur, the resolution is our own and he is not to interfere." Of course, the converse is also true.
"I have also heard that a little lamb's play toy, Michael, has left for some location in Europe. He is no longer within the City limits." Of course, Marius gives that little credence in the attempt to give the elder vampire a little benefit of the doubt. "She truly believes he is gone and is looking for the attentions of another of us."

—-

"Does Isonzo have claim upon the breather?"
Isobel does recall the conversations she had to have with the older vampire in regards to the Tyler nuisance. Should he not have claim on this breather, and attempt to say it is so she may just lose her patience.
"Find out if it is truth that he has left the city. He should have let us know himself. Should he return and not inform us, we will take action."

—-

"She is steadfast in her belief there is no claim. She claimed that she is no longer averse to one, though Michael is not the one whom she would choose." And people wonder why Marius loses his temper with the little lambs? They're willful little beasts that know nothing of their world and their part therein. Sadly, there is much resistance when they are instructed.
Except for his lamb.
"I will search to see if he has truly departed or if he is simply taken to hiding." Of course they have their way of discovering the truth.
"I will have an answer for you on the morrow."
Marius hasn't yet moved from his spot, but there's a feeling of indecision as to whether or not he should mention yet one more thing. There is no resolution, no manner in which it may be resolved, so…
"There is one in the City, Lady, that attacked the lamb," that part, he has no concern with, "glamoured her into believing that it was me that attacked her." That is the annoying part, though it affects him little. "She was smart enough to ask if I had done such a thing. I told her I did not, and she accepts my word."

—-

"Marius, if she becomes bothersome to our kind you have my permission to kill her." Isobel is still as a statue, her face showing absolutely no emotion as she says this. "She is nothing more than some willful little fangbanger and I do not wish to waste time and resources on keeping her from harassing those who are her betters."
There comes a derisive snort from the Sheriff.
"Had you attacked her she would already be dead. Is she addle-brained as well as desperate?" For it would seem to Isobel that refusing one claim, then seeking another reeks of just that. "You should speak with Valentine. Perhaps his whiny little librarian can aid with finding out more. I have heard of some therapies that could aid in memory as well though I know of nothing that can truly break a glamour."

—-

Marius inclines his head in acknowledgment of permission given and in tacit agreement. "I told her that if it was my doing, she would be dead." Sadly, and this is where the pique comes in. "The placing of blame on me makes me look soft." He has a reputation to maintain, after all.
Regardless, Marius takes the advice to speak to Will with another nod. "My own is a doctor of the mind. Perhaps she can be of some aid. Or, yes.. the King's own may be of some aid as well." That's the problem with glamours. Every breather's mind is a little different, and each vampire has their own 'ways' of doing them.. for the most part. "I will speak first to Valentinus for his permission before I approach mine."

—-

"Clearly that was the intent. Either that, or you could merely be the only vampire the breather could recall upon coming out of whatever injury stupor she was in." Isobel slides down the couch, remaining in her comfortable lounging position. A hand pats the couch motioning for the man to join her.
"A mind doctor. You may have an easier time with the mind-witch that belongs to Valentine. I wish you luck at any rate. I am certain the mind-witch will gladly jump at the chance to try and show how much of a valuable asset she can be."
A frown touches her lips briefly.
"I do not fancy having a willful 'sister'."

—-

"I do not relish the idea of being in that lamb's thoughts unless it is in her nightmares." Which, apparently, he has been if the one theory is correct. Not being able to imagine her own death, she instead placed him in the position where he'd harm her.. yet leave her alive.
Marius sits when asked, finally, and settles in beside his Lady, allowing a space for her to lean against him should she desire it. "My own understands her place, my Lady. She is docile and wishes to please. Yet within, I have seen the spark of life and independence, yet she remains.. as she should." Marius the traditionalist? "She sits at my knee willingly and without direction."
A soft bark of laughter escapes the Whip, however, as Isobel describes Chloe as 'willful'. "It may aid my brother if I took on his own to use, yes. Instruction is always a priority with that one."

—-

"You could always clear her memory of any knowledge of you," Isobel points out, even as she takes the shoulder to lean upon. It is perhaps her most human of movements, but she does like the comfort of having another near from time to time.
"I would suggest that, actually. Especially if she has her designs on you as being one whose claim she believes to be satisfactory. It would save you a great deal of trouble."
Listening as he speaks of his human, the Sheriff cannot help but laugh. "You like this lamb of yours. Her manner intrigues you, else you would have killed her already as well." Sits at his knee willingly. He almost sounds as if he were talking about a pup.
"It may. It may not. Humans of this era seem to be arrogant little children that do not know how to behave. At least for the most part." Elliott was not like that in the least.

—-

"I will ask the King's own if the lamb has such designs. There is no chance of my leaving my claim for one such as she. If I must remove my memory from her mind, then I will do so." However, it won't be done quite so expertly…
Marius can feel the laying of Isobel's head against him; he'd positioned himself such that she could if she so desired… "My own fears me, but she fears the uncertainty. She does not fear death for, she says, but fears not knowing if the moment I drink from her that it will be the last time she draws breath." If Marius understands her correctly, of course.
Reaching around for his hand to stroke the impossibly smooth skin of her cheek, his voice drops. "I must retire to chambers, my Lady. I would that the evening were younger and a willing vessel serenaded us with cries of mercy and pleas for life, but it is not."

—-

For anyone that speaks openly of claims and being choosy, they become in Isobel's mind a problematic nuisance. Whomever this particular lamb is, it sounds as though it is a case of seeking more power and that is something she will not allow. Foolish breathers.
"Alas, I am only all to aware of the hour." That was why she was feeding. "It is a pity though. Not even so much that I care to hear the screams but that I long for the company and my Maker is indisposed." Read: 'likely with his wenchy mind-witch'.
"Fear is not an awful thing, Marius. That is the correct fear to have. Not knowing when or if we will kill a breather. That is a healthy fear. Unlike those pests who decry that we are demons looking only to cull mankind."
Her head lifts from his shoulder and a fluid movement has her on her feet. "Enjoy what little remains of your evening. Perhaps soon we can enjoy another willing vessel together."

—-

There is no disappointment that Isobel would 'rather' company with her Maker. Certainly not. The bond between vampire and Maker is one of those that calls to the soul, if they could profess to own them still. It has been a very long time since Marius even considered his Maker, and even now, has little thought of her.
"You know that I enjoy fear in all forms for all reasons, my Lady." His voice is quiet, the breath used to form the words falling upon her hair. "That I may be present and she understands without guidance is intriguing." Do not think for a moment, however, that Marius isn't capable of killing her one day…
As Isobel disengages herself and rises to her feet, he follows suite, though he follows her every move with his eyes. "I am at your command, my Lady. I will seek a vessel at your word." And they will share in the glory that is being who and what they are. "It is my wish that you, too, enjoy what remains of the evening."

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