Medieval Times - Secret Arena
Midnight.
The witching hour.
This is Isobel's time. Business has been taken care of for the most part, and the rest of the night is hers and hers alone. A small bird sets on her shoulder with its jesses dangling. A few dead rodents are kept in a pouch at the woman's side. Her outfit reminiscent of a medieval woman of stature set to go out on a hunt with a falcon.
Taking hold of the jesses, she moves the bird carefully to her glove. "Now you shall behave accordingly, or you will go back into the cage." For its part the bird is not entirely frightened, though it does seem to be a bit out of sorts with the vampire.
That was.. Actually rather new to Tripp Reynolds, he'd never seen a vampire with a familiar, let alone a flying familiar at that, so when he arrives, (and Isobel likely felt his presence moments before his arrival) he seems a little confused.
Only a little, however.
And he's not dressed in any costume, he's in his usual bluejeans and tee, toteing a shoulderbag. Needless to say, he doesn't really like leaving Rose alone for long, even if she is already asleep, but the boss is most certainly the boss.
"Uh, Ma'am? Hi, I'm here." he greets, eyes locked on the falcon warily even as he bows respectfully, "I wasn't aware you were a bird person." Though it was fitting in a way, in his opinion she tended to have a hawk-like gaze.
"Mr. Reynolds. So glad you could join me."
The bird finally flies out, and around the arena. Circling it neatly a few times. On the third circle, Isobel reaches into the pouch and tosses a dead mouse up toward it. The bird catches it perfectly in its beak and lands not far from the woman.
"Truly I do not know if I can say that I am. I merely have an interest in falconry and thus, have built this extra arena to cater to my whims of fancy."
Walking across the sand to the sides of the arena, she motions to what looks to be a bottle of wine. Instead, she pours out two glasses of chilled blood. "She will be fine there momentarily. Tell me, how do things fare with the Tyler girl?"
When put that way, Tripp looks less wary and more impressed. It really hasn't been that long, but once upon I time he most certainly could satisfy whatever impulse buy he rarely had at the time.. But he never quite considered getting an exotic pet and appropriate accessories, "Oh, I see. It's a beauty though, that's for sure."
Following her motions, he crosses along the sands to the side as well. His eyes practically light up to the sight of pure blood, and doesn't seem to be paying attention until Faith is mentioned, "Hmn? Oh!" pause, "I.. I'm not really certain. She seems to be very troubled.. After breaking off the marriage with Ivan she decided to seperate herself from the world for a while.." there's another pause..
Then he seems to realize she may not have meant -literally- how things were faring, "Er, sorry, what.. I meant to say was that she has allowed me to claim her, that's been done. It's made the job a lot simpler."
"There are quite a few in the cages. Should you ever be interested in learning I would be more than happy to lend one to you for the duration of training." There is also a horse stabled here that is not part of the show, but she does not offer that. It is not hers to offer.
"She has separated herself from Fontane…" That seems to be news to Isobel. Not entirely unwelcome news, but it would seem her interest in that area has waned quite a bit since she first set her hireling on this task.
"I am glad that she has accepted your claim. You are to continue to keep an eye on her. You are welcome to bring her out to different locations as well. Do keep her away from Bloody Mary's if you can help it at all. I shall notify the front desk that you and a guest are welcome here any time we are open for the vampire population however."
"Oh, thank you.." Tripp replies, though it's actually said in a way that it's quite clear he has no interest in trying to take care of a wild, expensive bird. Either he's afraid of them, or afraid of breaking them. Or may he has little idea what use it would be for him. What -are- his hobbied these days anyway?
"But yes, she did.. Though his.. Sister, I believe she said, still posesses her cat. I don't really know how to take care of that situation." he notes, rubbing the back of his neck.
Though, did Tripp seem to smile a little at the mention of the break-up? Nah, couldn't be. "I see, I don't have any intention of bringing her to places like that.. Though I have to ask where my limits are in terms of taking her around, do I need to stay within Dallas? Withing Texas? Within the United States?" Not that he planned on taking her to Japan or anything, but it's good to know his options. He certainly seems to be considering taking her to this locale though.. Faith doesn't seem too uncomfortable around vampires after all. He strokes his chin thoughtfully as he looks around. "I see. Again, thank you very much. Your generosity is far more than I deserve, ma'am.." his eyes shift to the poured glass again.
"The most simple way to handle that would be to get the cat back, or buy her a new form of animal companion." Isobel holds out one of the wine glasses to him and then leans against the wall, watching the bird as it devours the mouse in large bites.
"If you leave Dallas, I require you to tell me that you are going, and when you return. It is this way that I can keep track of those within my city to squash trouble before it becomes too large for our laws to handle." Otherwise, he can go anywhere.
"You have no reason to fear this location, Mr. Reynolds. It is by far and large one of the safest within the city. Humans are free to come and go as they please, and as Miss Tyler is your claimed, none can touch her."
"Makes sense," they were extremely obvious solutions.. In fact, Tripp found himself inspired then, keeping a mental note on the matter. He accepts the glass, and actually is making an effort not to look at the bird because.. Well, come on, he's trying to eat here!
The rules are straightforward though, and thankfully there doesn't seem to be any complex fineprint on the matter, "I see, I'll remember that. And seeing as that's the case, then I believe I'll certainly come here with her. Now, I don't want to sound like I'm complaining, rest assured I'm satisfied with my current position.."
Tripp takes a sip from the glass, though the sip then becomes a gulp. Oh that hits the spot right there. His eyes sort of glaze over when the glass leaves his lips.
"Unfortunately it hardly mimics real wine at all, though I have heard that there is something of the sort at Dahlia's." The very upscale, very classy vampire only restaurant. Isobel will have to attend some day just for the sheer novelty of it.
"Should you need help with the selection, just let me know what it is you desire and I will have one of my daytime people procure it for you." Gregory can handle it though she'd much rather he take care of more intricate matters for her.
"Now tell me, Mr. Reynolds, do you have designs on the Tyler girl beyond your claim?"
Tripp blinks a few times, as if just returning to Earth, "That's.. Fine with me, I'm not really much of a wine drinker, though that will probably change in the future.." he notes. Though, seeing as Isobel is though, he's certain that he could get some good recommendations from her. He might need that sometime after all!
He takes another drink from the glass, though nearly chokes at the last question, lurching forward a bit. He coughs into his fist, quite clearly looking embarrassed by the question, "I- Excuse me? Um.." best to play it safe, though the question does end up coming out rather tactless, "Well, w- what are my options?"
"I cannot answer that for you, Mr. Reynolds," Isobel replies with a smirk, swirling the blood around in her glass. Tipping it upward she finishes it in one gulp. Then dips her fingers into the glass to try and soak up the remainder to lick off the tips of her fingers.
"Whatever designs you have or do not have on Miss Tyler are entirely your own. I was merely curious if I should expect a very livid Ivan Fontane at my home or not."
"Ah, I see.." Tripp relaxes a little then, he didn't want to end up misinterpreting the question or something crazy like that. The young vampire seems a bit thoughtful, but he shakes his head, "I.. Have some idea where I'd like to end up with Faith, but as of now I'm a bit limited.. If her sister were to find out that we've romantic feelings for one another it could go very poorly.." he admits.
"I've thought about perhaps persuing things further after Hope's wedding. We've been pretty low key about it right now, so I'm doubtful Ivan will be approaching you anytime soon.. Well, assuming he hadn't already when I returned her home a few ago."
"Sometimes, young Mr. Reynolds, we have to grab the bull by the horns and not care about how anyone else factors into things." Isobel lifts her fingers from the glass, licking them gently.
"The issue with Mr. Fontane is that he is very demanding, and I will not be so kind with that as I once would have been. It will not do to have me appear weak." Though she also has to be careful due to the political aspect of things. "Just keep doing your duty for now. Should you have any issues, do let me know, hmm?" Summarily, he is dismissed to go back and watch over his ward.
Tripp is silent for a moment, it'd be good for him, common sense says, to listen to what Isobel has to say. There's no doubt that her words are wise. But on the other hand, she doesn't hide the fact at all that she's jaded about emotions.. Which of course still means very much to him.
After finishing the glass, and breathing out a relieved and pleased sigh, he sets it back on the table, looking to his boss, "I.. Well. Yeah, that does make sense.."
Obviously he doesn't really care much about Ivan's future, but he does have a feeling at some point they may trade blows. At least, that's how it always works in those romance movies right? Otherwise his orders are clear and standing again, he bows to Isobel, "I understand. And again thenk you for your assitance. I'll be on my way now."
Then of course out of habit he waves to the woman before turning around to make his exit. … Bull by the horns, huh
