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.
| Characters: |
  |
Darkness has just fallen outside, the sun disappearing over the horizon. It's early, and Chloe is seen into the estate to wait for Will. She's got a bit of information to share with him in regards to the feelings down at City Hall, and what's going on with the election. A lot he can likely garner from the news, but there's nothing quite like having your own telepath in a political situation to get all the information avaialable.
Moving to one of the white couches, she pulls her laptop out of its bag and sets it on the table. While she waits for it to boot up, she does a quick glance to the kitchen to see if Marius is in there so she'll know if she should run downstairs and hide in Will's room or not.
Footsteps sound on the stairs from the main landing, heavy enough and noisy enough to be a human's. Having said that, they're neither that heavy, nor that noisy. Just heavier than the accustomed whisper of a vampire's passing.
Gregory descends the stairs, coming to the door of the vault, where he pauses. He, too, has information to relay — his destined for Isobel, though it'll no doubt make it's way to Will soon enough. He pauses, though, because of the redhead on the couch.
"You've got to be kidding me," he blurts as he stares at her. Of course, he remembers her. Pretty red head. A little milky, but had a snark to her. Maybe not suitable to the one night stand he was looking for, but he kept her face in memory.
She reads minds.
Mary Had A Little Lamb starts repeating loudly in his mind.
"That is the most annoying song on the face of the planet," Chloe snaps, glaring up at him. The footsteps were heard, but ignored until the voice was heard. Mainly because there are quite a few human employees in residence and they come and go at the strangest times. Footsteps are not something she generally has to worry about.
Eventually though, the glare turns quizzical and her nose wrinkles. "So which of the three do you work for then? I'm presuming that your vampire employer is one of them, either that or you're working for the guy they've got locked upstairs in the guest room."
Her fingers type something quickly once the computer is booted and she frowns. "Beyond that, I'm not a one-night stand type of girl."
Gregory flashes a grin at her, pleased, apparently, by both her reaction to the song and the fact that she feels a need to protest his thoughts. "Not to worry," he says, Boston accent broad and casual. "You're not my type, either. But you already know that."
He's actually brazen enough to give her a wink.
Of course, his 'type' for a one night stand looks a whole lot like a girl he met back behind the Grisly.
{o/~}MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB!{~\o} Right. Soooooo not going there, right now. Gotta get through the convo with Isobel, first.
"But, in answer to your question: The Sheriff. And your friend is…?"
He waits expectantly for an answer.
Narrowing her eyes again, she makes a hmph sound as though put out. Chloe isn't. Not really. She's got enough man-troubles in her life that she doesn't need the added one. Even if Gregory isn't all that unpleasant on the eyes. "No wonder you work for Isobel if you prefer blondes." Rolling her eyes she glances back at the screen. A few more keystrokes and she nods. All VPN'd into her system at City Hall so she can pull the information up for Will.
"Friend is not exactly the right term," she answers with a bit of a smirk. Though there's not much else given just yet. She busies herself with the computer, rudely making him wait.
"I'm dating William Grant."
Chew on that, witch.
Gregory arches a brow at that bit of information. "The King? Huh." That wicked grin is flashed again. "Good on 'im," he says. Why shouldn't the pretty boy monarch have a bit of fire on his arm, right?
A beat.
"So, do your colleagues at the Mayor's office know that?"
His business is information. So, yes. He knows everyone that's on the various campaign staffs.
If they don't know, well, that's good on her. If they do?
They're more tolerant than he'd given them credit for.
He moves into the room now and flops unceremoniously down on the end of one of the couches. Now that he knows Chloe's essentially 'on side', he's relaxed. This isn't to say he's without a certain level of guardedness. But the nursery song gives way to something a lot less annoying and a lot more contemporary.
"The ones that are important do." The ones that already are aware Will is the head honcho vampire around these parts. "The rest don't really need to know." So far as Chloe sees it the only one that knows her connections won't say anything because of the video tape of him killing a vampire.
There is a long glance at the screen, then a sly look sent to the private detective. "Actually this is perfect. You're safe." Grinning broadly she laughs. "Now that I know that, and that you work for them…" It's all plotting within her mind at the moment.
Gregory turns his head, tilting his body some as he eyes the telepath. Safe? Him?
He smiles at that. To the uninformed, the smile is enigmatic, sly, and even a little smug. To a telepath, of course, with insight into his hidden emotions, there's more of a sense of being torn. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
He doesn't trust her.
But, then, to be fair, he doesn't trust anyone.
"I don't come cheap," he notes idly.
"I'm not paying for a date," Chloe points out with a snap.
Then she becomes a little more composed. "My brother is marrying his Fellowship of the Sun sweetie, and as the wedding is during the day I can't exactly bring the date I want to bring." The laptop is flipped around to show off the e-invite. "You, on the other hand, are safe. You have no interest in me, so won't garner Will's potential ire by being all touchy feely… and as you can wander about in the daylight…"
The sly smile returns. "Beyond which, I do believe Mr. Wright will be there, so you can gather whatever information you want on him for the Sheriff."
Gregory stares at the woman for just a moment. Then, however, his eyes narrow as he considers her words.
First of all, there's the fact her brother is affiliated in some way with the FOTS. That's got a make for interesting dinner conversation over the holidays when the family gets together.
But, she's not wrong: A chance to cozy up to Wright in some way might be a good thing. Or to cozy up to his aides at the very least. Too, Isobel would expect him to take advantage of the opportunity to do so.
"Alright," he agrees, all business-like. Because, really, that's what it is. And underneath that playboy facade he wears like an old sweater lurks a sharp business mind.
Not to mention a bit of a schemer.
Doesn't that just figure.
"It's a date." A bit of that smug smile returns. "Still won't be cheap, though."
Chloe makes a rather big show of rolling her eyes and exhaling a sigh. "Fine. Name the cost." She'd sooner not have to owe the man anything, or let on more of what she knows about the Wright campaign, considering her soon-to-be sister-in-law is pretty much Wright's Girl Friday.
"I think you'll be able to give your employer much more information from attending this event than you would by spending years studying the man. Just trust me on this." The laptop is flipped back around, the invitation closed off and she brings up a list of the polls. Her nose wrinkles again, and she reaches into her bag to pull out a notebook and make a note.
Then she flips the page and scribbles her address and the wedding details onto it. Tearing it out, she offers it to him. "Just make sure you keep your hands off my ass, alright? I'd hate to have to make a scene at the wedding." She does seem like the type to make a scene if she needs to.
Gregory isn't actually foolish enough to make a play for the King's girl. In fact, there's very little of the fool about him.
"You wish, babe," he says, barely swallowing the snirk that accompanies it. That's not to say he won't play the dutiful date, but he was raised upper class. He knows how to work a party, and how to play by the rules when he needs.
He also knows which rules to break. The ones that involve him ending up lunch meat for a vampire are not among those.
Taking the address from her, he glances at it and then puts the paper into his pocket. "You can pay for my suit," he says. "I left my best ones back in Boston."
"Keep it under fifteen hundred," Chloe says eyeing him. She's still got a bit of the money left from the 'rescue', so she won't be in need. Plus she'll be selling her mother's house soon enough. Still, she doesn't want to wind up broke either.
"If I wished? You'd know it." She's not exactly the type to hide how she feels about things. Not these days. "Chances are I may have to stand in the wedding to fill in for my flake of a fangbanging sister. I'm trying to avoid it, because I'll look awful in pink." That and her dress she bought already is a killer.
Gregory doesn't bother trying to hide his thoughts. The woman probably would look awful in pink. It's that red hair. He's seen its like before.
Of course, his head does cant some at her description of her sister. Isn't she, herself, a fangbanger? The King does have fangs, after all. And if she's his girl, well… it does stand to reason.
"Flake of a fangbanging sister?" he echoes curiously. What? It runs in the family?
"Sounds like you've got an interesting homelife. Your brother's marrying a FOTS convert, your sister and you are into vampires… Anything I should know — in order to make navigating this little shindig a little easier on both of us?"
After all, any mistakes he makes will reflect on her, as well.
"There's a vast difference in having a relationship with a vampire, and dressing like a gothic vampire fantasy wannabe, begging to be bitten and used for pleasure." In Chloe's estimation, Mellie was more or less like a prostitute, selling her blood to the highest bidder. "So while I am with Will, I don't whore myself out to any vampire that wants a bit of blood."
See the difference? Most don't.
"My brother is part of the Fellowship of the Sun. So is his fiance. Mellie won't be in attendance." Thankfully. "If mother shows up, she's a werewolf. Victim of those attacks a few months ago. Don't ask about daddy… and try not to bring up vampires at all. Pretty sure the place will be packed with religious zealots."
Gregory gets the difference. He wouldn't be working for Isobel, if he were incapable of grasping subtleties. For all that he doesn't mind working for the vampires, however, he's not so inclined to exchange bodily fluids with them. In any way, shape, or form. It's not so much that he has any prejudices against them — he'd never have entered into Isobel's employ, if he had. It's rather he finds them somewhat icy… and he prefers fire.
In any case, his demeanor changes noticeably as the woman gives him her information. Gone is the brash act. In its place is that shrewd business mind, absorbing, storing, and committing the information she gives to a well-practiced memory. "So, mind my P's and Q's. Not a problem." He purses his lips, slightly, considering how best to approach it, what sort of cover to contrive. Perhaps just simply relying on his heritage as 'one of the Boston Warrens' will suffice.
"The rich Bostonian background will be perfect to play up, if you don't mind." Chloe grins a little at that. "Though I'm going to apologize for Bobby ahead of time. I'm hoping he'll be too busy with the nuptials to be too worried about me settling down with someone 'normal'." There, she pauses momentarily. "Oh, and it's a secret he doesn't think that I know but my brother is a witch. Learned from Fontane's sister."
Since Gregory is well aware of the campaign, he'll know who Fontane is when she mentions him.
Gregory cants his head again, adjusting slightly to the idea that she can hear everything he thinks. Always hard to make that adjustment, at first. But, he's fairly resilient.
"I can do that," he concedes, regarding the Boston background. He cants his head at the telling of the secret. A brow arches.
"Witch, huh? Do you know what his strength is?" Which flavor of magic, he means. Always good to have some idea about such things going in… not that he wouldn't be able to figure it out, given the opportunity.
He is, however, quite aware of who Fontane is — not to mention his hereditary coven. And he knows to be very careful around the man, as a result. Whether he remains loyal to Umbra or not, Umbrans are not witches to be trifled with lightly.
There is a shake of her head. "No. Granted I've not really spent much time with him lately due to my 'allegiances'," Chloe points out. Fraternizing with the enemy, even if it is family would look very bad for McNaab's campaign. "I can find out though," she says tapping the side of her head. Won't be too hard to figure it out once Bobby's not focused.
"Ivan won't be there, I don't think. Things aren't exactly the greatest between him and the other-Tyler girl." The one not marrying her brother. "He's loyal to his family." Which should say it all without confirming she knows much about the covens.
"Well, if you do figure it out," Gregory says, tapping the side of his head in kind, "let me know. I don't like surprises." Not, mind, that he expect there to be any need for magic at an FOTS wedding.
The FOTS would probably freak if they thought witches were real, too. Not known for their tolerance, that lot, to be sure.
And, yes, he picks upon the message in her comment about family. He'd never have thought otherwise, really. Blood is thicker than water, after all.
"He is Fellowship," Chloe reminds him. "I'm pretty sure his zealot fiance knows all about mother, and witchcraft. Her twin was dating Fontane for quite a while, and I don't think that it was a well kept secret." The telepath also has no doubt that Bobby explained about her as well even though she asked him not to say anything.
"When I know, you'll know." For the first time she offers the man a genuine smile. "Thanks for doing this for me, witch. I appreciate it more than you know." It saves her from the complications of asking Mischa to the wedding, or grabbing Ivan as her 'date' and making things awkward for everyone.
"Just 'cause your soon-to-be sister-in-law has accepted the family secrets, doesn't mean she approves of them. And it sure as hell doesn't mean the FOTS as a whole will," Gregory notes matter-of-factly. "They're religious zealots, which are the worst kind of zealots." How many witches have died, over the years, at the hands of religious zealots, after all? "Yeah, they're human — so they'll accept inconsistencies on an individual basis, sure. But, don't go thinking just 'cause a handful of them are willing to turn a blind eye that the whole lot of them will."
Suffer ye not a witch to live, is a familiar indictment to most witches… truly magical or not.
Gregory's not given to fear of such things. But, neither his he an incautious man. He'll hedge his bets right through the final hand.
Still, his expression softens and he flashes her a grin. "Hey, I'm always up for a good party," he says, letting some of the brash facade flare. "Besides," the flashed grin becomes at once calculating and playful. "We'll be the best looking couple there."
A beat.
For her sake, he concedes, "Bride and groom excepted."
"Trust me, I know. The Fellowship on the whole…" Chloe wrinkles her nose. "Don't forget I can hear how hateful and spiteful the majority of them are. Their secret thoughts." The fact that not all are on the up-and-up and have reasons to be so fearful of vampires. Not all are even religious zealots so much as just people filled with hatred wanting to harm those that differ from them.
The softened expression and the grin cause her to laugh, even before the words are spoken. "No, you had it right the first time. I do love my brother and his bride, but like I said. The dress is killer." Far be it from her to upstage the pink princess but she's affording herself one bit of self-confidence boosting per day and this was it.
"I should likely get these files downstairs so I can transfer them properly." There is a thought that she should give him her number so he can send her the bill for the suit, but she refrains from doing so. He's a private detective, after all. He can always find her if he wants to.
