The Princess and the Pirate

Medieval Times

bones_icon.jpg isobel_icon.jpg

Bones walks through the parking lot with his hands in his pockets, eyes focusing on the huge medieval walls in the distance ahead of him. He no longer wore his trademark leather jacket, his somewhat garish tattoos on display thanks in part to his faded 'night of the living dead' t-shirt. He cocks an eyebrow high as he gets closer, certainty understanding how an old European vampire might get just a hint of nostalgia out of this place, as fake as it was.

"Man, this better not be a waste of time.." he grumbled to himself as he made his way inside, pulling his hands out of his pockets only to get one of them somewhat caught against his jeans. His right arm is still tightly wound in what looked to be nearly a half roll of duct tape, the glue managing to snag on his jeans, unraveling a few strips of the gray adhesive when he pulls the hand from his pocket, and leaving them to dangle a few inches past his fingers. He didn't much care about appearances, and so he left the shoddy example of first-aid on display, tangled gray ribbons of his failure present for all to see.

"Yeah, sure. That'll impress the sheriff." He says with a chuckle as he steps past the moat and inside, his eyes constantly scanning for.. some evidence of vampire royalty. He didn't exactly have an appointment, he simply heard a rumor that the sheriff owned this place. She wouldn't be in the lobby, would she? Maybe the restaurant? He has no clue, but he heads slowly towards the ticket booth, intent on purchasing his ticket and heading through every section of the place untill something, or nothing, tips him off.

The injury may indeed impress the Sheriff, if she were privy to who caused the injury. Though wounds are not normally something she would ooh and aah over, having seen her fair share at the Battle of Culloden, the fact that her Whip could so easily dispatch another is always a cause to celebrate — even if the celebration is internal and minor.
The location is bereft of humans this late at night, the only ones present being those who work in the building with the animals, and the kitchen staff who are busily cleaning up after the last show. The ticket taker is clearly vampire. The pageantry that is put out for the human public has disappeared, and while some vampires do mill about in 'costume' near the bar, the sounds of swords clanging together can be heard in the arena.
On the dais generally reserved for the King, a lone pale figure stands. Though she is dressed in thirteenth century garb with a small princess crown upon her head, there is a clipboard in her hands as she goes over the inventory so that she can leave a note for the day staff to place new orders.

Bones looks around with an expression like that of a confused tourist, every strange sight and smell being thoroughly alien to him. Not only had he never been to Europe, he didn't really watch enough television or read enough books to have a very fleshed out stereotype of what a medieval castle should be. Eventually his eyes find a pale woman on the dais across the room, and he shrugs his shoulders.

Might as well start with her. She seems to know her shit.

He crosses the room, and makes his way to the platform, which he looks down at for a second with a chuckle. "Man, this thing makes me feel like I should me kneelin' in front of you or somethin'. Or maybe the crown's doin that eh? Hehe." He looks to meet her eyes, big grin plastered across his face. "So uhh, this might be weird, or rude, or both, I dunno. But I heard a rumor that the uhh…" he pauses, briefly forgetting the actual title of the person he's looking for. "… the sheriff owns this place? I had a run in with her shaved blonde monkey recently." He holds up his duct taped arm, to showcase how that little encounter went. "And right before snappin my arm he said I should meet up with a sheriff and let her know I'm in town. I'm a few hundred years overdue I guess."

A slender eyebrow arches up above an icy blue eye. Isobel looks down at the man, at the duct tape, and the matted hair and without changing the neutral expression upon her face asks, "When was the last time you bathed?"
The fact that such a cretin is calling Marius a shaved blonde monkey is not lost on her, and the eyes narrow considerably. "You will address the Whip with respect. If he did that damage to your arm, then there was a reason for it. He does not merely wound without just cause."
Indeed, he generally leaves people dead.
"Administration has changed recently. Did you not make yourself known to the previous Sheriff?"

Bones looks confused for a second. "Bathed? Uhh, yesterday I guess, if being out in the rain for an hour or two counts." He looks down at himself, re-confirming to that his clothes were the cleanest and newest that he had. They were.
"Hey, I didn't disrespect the guy till he started tryin to scare me. Just told him that I don't scare, and he took offense to that." That was a half truth, considering that calling the man 'Blondie' would have been considered disrespectful to most. To Bones, that was just being friendly. Still, this woman clearly was in the same mold as Marius in that she cared a great deal about the hierarchy, and so he tones things down.
"Uhh, I didn't make myself known to anybody. Didn't know I was supposed to. I checked my uhh.. records, and I been here since 1827."

"It does not." Rain is hardly a bath, and those should be have with soap and clean water, as opposed to the acidic droplets that fall from the sky these days. A quick note is jotted onto the clipboard before a cellular phone is extracted from somewhere within the folds of the skirt.
"Ruby. Arrange a room at the hotel. Ensure it has a large bath and plenty of soap." Even so, Isobel is neutral enough to not wrinkle her nose at the man.
"Everyone scares, Mr…?" There was no name given, and so she cannot address him as anything but that. "It merely takes a bit more with some. You should be lucky that you are vampire, else chances are you would have been dead rather than wounded." Chances are if the insult was grievous enough, Marius may have killed him despite his 'origins'.
"Did not know you were supposed to? These laws have been in place since before our kind came to this section of the world."

Bones sniffs himself in a very unsubtle way as she picks up her cell phone, trying to pick up precisely what was so offensive about his odor. He doesn't spend precisely all that much time investigating though.
"Ruby?" He questions, mostly to himself, deciding almost immediately that he doesn't need to know. "Bones" Is his one-word introduction. "And I don't scare." He reiterates simply, but quickly adds an addendum. "Well that ain't precisely true. I saw this one movie one time about these giant mosquitos? Well that…" he stops in his tracks, partially in realization that she probably wasn't a fan of horror films, and partially because he just realized she mentioned giving him a bath."
Bones says, "Whoa whoa, I don't need a hotel room okay? I Just wanted to get in and get out real quick. Isn't there a form I can fill out or somethin? Throw my info in some kinda computer and we're done?" He looks down at his duct-taped arm, and tries to re-wrap the few ribbons that had managed to split off. Failing that, he simply tugs them off, giving a grunt at the brief flash of pain that the action causes. "My maker just told me about the sun, and silver, and needing invitations and all that stuff.""

"Unless you are going to be living in a cave, you will need to bathe before being in my presence." Strange though it is, Isobel is very fond of the saying 'cleanliness is next to godliness'. Even after her forays with the Whip, she bathes. It never suits to have viscera in her hair or decolletage. "You will go there after leaving here tonight, and you will bathe." What he does after that will be his own business.
With the cellular phone still in hand, she fires off a quick text message, and then slips it back into the folds of her skirt.
"Your maker was obviously a fool." A slow smirk appears upon her face. "I do believe that I shall send Marius to teach you the ways of our kind." Which may just earn her a little ire from both men, but she doesn't look as if she cares overly much.

Bones says, "Before bein in…" he trails off for a moment, and then points at her, his brow furrowing. "You're the Sheriff?!" He looks her up and down, and the grin comes back almost right away. "That's awesome! You're up on a thrown, wearin a lil crown? Haha, that's so perfect. I'm a dumbass for not figurin that shit out." Even with the powerful aura of disdain she gives off, he still can't help himself but to laugh. At least a little bit.
"Hehehe, sorry, sorry. So yeah, okay sure, free hotel room aint too terrible a trade for a bath. Course no offence lady, err.. ladyship. Sheriff. I'm gonna do my damndest to avoid havin to meet you or your whip anytime soon."
He kept grinning, though it fades at the mention of his maker being a fool, and further still when Marius is mentioned. "Oh you're fuckin kiddin me. Really? What'd he ever do to you?""

There is a slight twitch in her eyes, and her voice rises just a little. "Language, Mr. Bones. It does not suit me to have such spoken in my presence." There are quite a few humans who have seen just how ired she can get in regards to certain words.
When further language comes, it is easy enough for her to swiftly send a hand out with a reprimanding backhand. "Though I do not expect you to change your ways, I will expect you to speak to me with respect, and such language is not something I will condone in my establishment."
Afterward, she's back to her gentle mask of neutrality. "Your maker is a fool for not actually teaching you our ways." The rest is not commented on. It is obvious to her that this vampire will need a heavy hand to be taught properly, and she herself is just not up for the task of continually beating one of the King's subjects should it be necessary.

Bones 's head recoils at the slap, but he quickly looks back at her with an even larger grin. At least this time he wasn't sent to the floor. "Right…" he says in a growl. "Keep it PG-13 around the princess." He licks the inside of the cheek that she had struck, checking for blood but finding none.
"So, when's my first lesson with Marius eh?" He rubs his palms together and looks over his shoulder, clearly looking forward to tormenting the whip with his continued presence. "I just can't wait to learn all about what it is to be a vampire."

His words, while meant to insult her, are not wrong. Technically, Isobel is the King's child. While in vampire hierarchy that means very little, she lets it just wash past without much interest.
"After you see to your bathing. Someone will be in touch." The attitude is not at all welcome, though rather than slap the man again she slides the clipboard under her arm. "You may know the basics, Mr. Bones, but while you are in my Area, you will need to learn a more appropriate way to behave." Which, at the moment, means 'be on your best behavior'.
At least until certain matters can be discussed fully with the King of Texas.

Bones turns back to look at her, watching her slide the clipboard under her arm, but then affixing his eyes back up to her face. "You mean like, manners?" He chuckles, and looks back down at his arm, just double checking that the tape was staying in place. It was.
"Imma be honest with you Sheriff, I kinda like the way I am right about now. Yer probably real fu-" he catches himself. "Yer probably real effin busy, but lemme just add my two cents here and tell ya, fear aint much of a motivator for me. Pain aint either. Your whip's got his work cut out for em, since I'm pretty sure that's all he knows."

"I hardly expect a man like you to actually comprehend the proper use of manners," Isobel replies icily, "But you will learn about how the hierarchy of vampires work on this continent."
Without much else being said, the extremely young looking woman heads off the dais. The only movement she has besides walking away is to motion two of the night guards over to leave Bones with directions to the hotel. Then she is slipping between the walls, seemingly disappearing quietly.
She is a busy woman, but that does not mean she will not be slipping away to see that the special area has been set up for the ceremony to take place at the end of the week.

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