Cast: Sasha, Sam, Cyrus, Hendrik
Location: Huntington Elysium - Quinn Room
Time: 19th of December, Year 15
Synopsis: Different ages discuss how they handle the death of a brother, followed up by an argument on the need to 'behave'.
Quinn Room - Huntington Gallery - San Marino
Secreted away in the depths of the east wing lies an elegant drawing room, Georgian in design, furnished with British pieces from the 18th and 19th centuries. Despite the room's size, it is an intimate setting; the furniture grouped in conversational arrangements upon a large, burgundy, Imperial rug. A walnut cabinet stands at the back, its doors fastened open to reveal a message board; nearby, several talking points decorate the surfaces of ornamental tables: jet and marble statuettes, silver tea caddies, Bone China and other objects d'art. A crystal chandelier hangs centrally from the high ceiling, providing a golden light which warms the room. The walls, featuring minimal rococo plasterwork designs, have been painted a soft honey brown to pleasantly offset the intricacy of the contents.
The sense is that this might once have been a room for statesmen or nobility to while away the evening hours, and as such, it is particularly well-suited to its current patrons.
A sharp, familiar tapping announces Sasha's arrival as she stalks her way towards the message board, a bare glance given around the room for any occupants. Dressed for an evening out, she doesn't look as if she's intending to spend any great length of time here, eyes roving over the various bits of paper pinned to the board.
Sam's on one of the tables in the room, going through a pile of paperwork, reports and pictures. Paperwork that has 'LAPD Confidential' written all over it.
When Sasha enters the young man glances up, offering a nod-smile; "Evening Sasha. All's well, I hope?"
Instead of answering immediately, Sasha flickers a finger at one of the old messages on the board. "I missed that court," by the tone of her voice it wasn't an accident, either: "Did anything interesting happen?" With an exhale she turns and makes her way over to join Sam, leaning against the edge of the table, glancing down at the paperwork there. "You heard about Bob?"
The paperwork seems to be about 2 murder-investigations. Two woman, found dead in alley-ways; "I missed it also." The young man admits; "And I didn't hear anything about it.. just that both the Prince and the Seneschal didn't attend it either." The last question leaves him a bit puzzled; "About Ice? No. Did something happen?"
"Well, it can't have been that fascinating," a hint of humor creeps into Sasha's tone; she's leaning against the table that Sam's seated against, dressed for a night out. Her attention is - partially at least - on the paperwork scattered on the top, frowning noticeably before Sam's words draw her attention back towards him. "You didn't— god," she breathes, a hitch in her breath, angry. "Ask the Cowboy. Or your assistant— I'm sure she'll be happy to throw it at you without warning. I'm surprised she hasn't already, in fact."
A frustrated grumble heralds Cyrus's arrival. He's burdened with a few books and documents which he's shuffling through, dissatisfied with every damned page of it. He's not about to go storming into a tea room uninvited. He lurks by the threshold, leaned against the doorframe as he glances within- He's seeking Sam, but it's Sasha's voice he catches first. A sigh. He wasn't planning on an easy night.
While Sam's attention is caught by something in the reports, Sasha displays a marked indifference after her initial curiosity is satisfied. Her attention quickly wanders, drifting over the entranceway by habit, and a scowl immediately surfaces, hands folding across her chest. "Speak of the devil," she mutters, loud enough for him to hear; "The chief was just asking about our mutual friend. I'm sure you'd be -happy- to explain to him what happened… no?"
Auspex on Sasha notes:
«A hint of satisfaction in those pointed words; anything to cause a reaction.»
Sam quickly jots something down on the paper notebook in front of him.. offering an absentminded; "Ask them? It's often bad news when I can't ask the man himself. I bet it's not because he left town." A slight frown, then notices Cyrus, stands and offers a slight bow; "Mister Sedoso".
Cyrus blatantly winces as her voice turns to him, and shuffles his grip upon the books, "Mutual friend? Hmm, that's got a suspicious sound to it…" With a resigned shrug, he pushes away from the doorframe and stalks forth. The books spill down upon their table, his palm rest upon them as he leans there for a moment. "How can I help you, Sam?" He's tired, but there's a smile to greet them, and a curious light in his eye as he checks Sasha over.
Sasha keeps her gaze firmly on Cyrus; pale eyes guarded, though her posture is relaxed enough in her casual lean against the table. She's silent for once, content to let Sam speak.
Auspex on Samael notes:
«He was mostly concentrated, a bit worried.»
Auspex on Cyrus notes:
«His mind is stressed by the work it's unaccustomed to. Fatigued, restless and frustrated. But there curious fondness for both of them, though of a different nature for each, subtlety spiced with good-humor and dread.»
Sam tilts his head, regarding Cyrus for a moment; "I think it's about 'Ice', mister Sedoso. Not really a friend of mine, yet.. anyway." A pause and a glance at the paperwork now; "Help.. actually, perhaps the two of you can, since the high and mighty appear to feel too good to respond to my requests.. again. Did you hear about these two girls found bloodless lately?"
"Ice Man. Of course," Cyrus accepts with a grimace. "What can I tell you, Sam? He's lost. We're just waiting to put an end to him. We should have the body in the Tower by the end of the week, and get the whole mess sorted out officially…" He regards Sasha darkly, sidelong, though his words remain directed at Sam. "Bloodless girls- Are we talking about that pile of dead whores they've been collecting? We've got people looking into that, but I haven't gotten involved, personally. Still busy cleaning up after the last ordeal. I can't help you there."
Sasha's aiming for guarded, but really— it's difficult for her to conceal her expression, and it's not something she's used to doing most of the time anyway; fine tension stiffens her posture as her fingers clench. "He -was- under the Cowboy's protection— supposedly." The heat is audible in her voice, and she matches Cyrus' dark look with a scowl of her own. A flicker of a glance to Sam, now, then across the paperwork on the table. "I heard," she says, flatly. "Is it a vampire?" Her phrasing is odd, and purposeful; not 'one of us'.
Auspex on Sasha notes:
«That brilliant, familiar anger suffuses her aura, coiling about her.»
Sam blinks, glancing between Sasha and Cyrus now; "Lost?" He falls back in his chair, face going expressionless; "How?" he asks. Lips are pursed before he repeats; "A pile of dead whoresss." A slight hiss there; "Yess. Why not call them that. Tell me mister Sedoso. These people looking into it, do they involve me? Because if they don't, that makes unlife easier."
Auspex on Samael notes:
«a realization he doesn't want to face, uncomfy memories stirring. It's pushed away. A rising anger helps pushing it away.»
It's her adopted sire that receives the redhead's attention now, with a frown; Sasha says curtly, "Hunters." A pause— an obvious hesitation as glance is slanted quickly towards Cyrus then back to Sam. "I've asked to see him. He belongs to Apolo and Cyrus now, for his debt to them. I'm told," a gritting of teeth is enough to indicate her grudging allowance, "That I have to negotiate to do so." She's silent on the latter topic, though sharp gaze does remain on Sam with the faintest tip of head.
Auspex on Sasha notes:
«Anger's still present, but there's an undercurrent of grief, of loss, and starkly— terror. It's under control, but it's there, riding her thoughts.»
Sam refocuses on Sasha; "I'll probably have to negotiate for you then.. Unless they acknowledge you doing it yourself." He pauses and repeats; "Hunters." shaking his head now; "But Ice can't help hunters, can he? You can't hide who you are from these people. They know. All that is required is running into them."
"They can do that?" Sasha asks, surprised— caught off guard, eyes distant a moment in consideration, before she refocuses with an audible growl accompanying the words: "Don't try and make excuses for him; he knows exactly what he did," she says sharply, talking of Cyrus now and not caring that he's right there.
Sam’s eyes search out Sasha narrowing; "Don't try and tell me what to do. You may have been through a lot, you may think you know everything.. but you really don't. You never encountered hunters." His voice remains calm and friendly regardless; "And yes. Some of them can do that, and more. They can burn you. Our 'powers' come from the blood. Their insights and protections are granted by God."
Cyrus watches patiently as his news works its bitter magic. "Did I hit a sore spot, Sam?" He's not intentionally cruel about it, as he tilts Sam a calm and curious glance. "Sorry. 'Don't mean to sound so cold about it, but I do get tired of cleaning up other people's messes." He pulls up a chair. "Wasn't the hunters that killed him… It was Ali and Maxine. He was already starting to come unraveled, and the two of them ganged up and just drove him off the edge. His will got beaten down, and the beast tore free and claimed him." He sinks gravely into the chair, his gaze falling to the table in an unintentional moment of silence. "These things happen."
Auspex on Cyrus notes:
«He's not as cold as he'd have himself appear. A sickened anger twists inside him as he relates the story. A lingering, metallic tinge of dread.»
"By God?" There's a definite snort from Sasha, clearly disbelieving. "If He really hates us that much, thinks we're that evil; more power to them, then." Her gaze travels towards Cyrus, jaw clenched, silent.
Auspex on Sasha notes:
«A weary sort of acceptance.»
"The beast.. huh?" he repeats softly. Sam glances away for a moment, breathing. The expressionless mask is re-enforced. When he looks back his eyes glimmer; "Maxine and Ali?" the names are pronounced slowly; "That figuresss. Perhaps Chance can behead Ice also then. Lost anyway. Another Toreador neonate down, and no-one cares enough to return the favor." The voice becomes a bit less chilly again; "Not that I would know what to do.. We're wiser than jumping into that. Like.. Yes. By God. I doesn't have anything to do with 'us being evil'. It has to do with 'us being astray'."
Auspex on Samael notes:
«old sore and distress, pushed away in favor of more hate and a wish to lash back.. pushed away in favor of calm and a wish not to feel anything at all»
Cyrus considers Sasha quietly as Sam speaks. A sigh for her, steady and patient, before he lets the topic rest. "We have both the hunters in our possession," he assures. "It seems their God has forsaken them," he reaches out and flips absently through the stack of documents, his eyes upon the text, through unseeing. "Last I saw them, they were broken and defenseless. Hadn't even the will to pray, and not God nor his angels would lend them the strength to fight us…" He drawls, dragging to a grave silence- He slides Sam a sly look, and wants to smile, but can't manage nothing more than a bitter, joyless smirk before his gaze falls again. "There's no winning in this game."
"I care," Sasha says abruptly, with a heated kind of vehemence; she's on her feet, pacing away, as if the sudden burst of energy needs to go -somewhere-. Cyrus' description of Ice earns him a dark look, expression determined— but underneath that, that notable trace of terror, a hint of unsteadiness to her cast as she paces the length back towards the table.
Sam offers Sasha another faint nod-smile; "Which is commendable". When Sasha starts to pace he turns back to Cyrus, picking up that conversation. His lips twitch; "I don't know about these hunters.. if they are the religious kind or no. The religious kind only tends to root out the worst of us. There's others, that simply lash back for personal reasons. Settling a score." And.. His eyes defiant suddenly "Yes. There is.. winning, but we've talked about this before. We disagree. You can't sense how it was. How it is."
Auspex on Samael notes:
«religious righteousness, reinforcing the calm»
Cyrus turns that grave gaze towards Sasha, though he can not focus upon her, as if there were miles of distance between them. "She does care, god-help-her. We're going to allow her to say her goodbyes. If you'll allow it," he casts back towards Sam. "…For these hunters, it was personal. They were going to take down whoever they could get, and Ice was easy prey. He made himself a target. His young friends would be next… Sakura, innocent as she was, barely escaped them, when Ice fled and abandoned her. Not to speak ill of the dead…" He grumbles, leaning back from the table as he scratches his jaw impatiently. "I just want this over with."
Sasha moves back up to the table, fingers brushing along the edge in studied distraction for a moment before she folds arms across her chest, leaning her weight against the table again. "Winning?" she echoes, a curious cant of head at Sam. A low exhale escapes her as her chin tilts upwards, gaze darting to Cyrus as she accuses, "You just want it forgotten, behind you, like all the other bad things that have happened."
Sam nods; "Of course I allow it." the young man confirms; "Perhaps you would extend this favor to Sakura and Tinkerbell. I could.." he considers that; "I think he was more or less religious. I can bring one of my priests. Sacrament of the dying. His soul probably needs all the help it can get. When he's awake, we can rap a goodbye for him or something."
He nods back at Sasha; "There's winning from the beast." he explains; "Meaning that it need not be a downward spiral. There are costs though. And people your age don't see the need for them as much. I know I didn't."
Cyrus focuses upon Sasha at last, cold, sharp, and sober. "Exactly." He scoffs. "When you get to be as old as I am, you can't afford to hold on to these things. It's a burden that'll crush you in due time. There's a few tragedies I still hold dear, but this isn't one for the books. He just ain't worth it. Once I drop this, I'm not giving it a second thought." Sam's words draw forth a weary growl, "That's mighty generous of you, Sam, but he really isn't worth the fuss. The soul's all burned up, and there really is nothing left to mourn. This isn't a sight for the young and impressionable, so you'd be kinder sparing them the trauma. I tried to warn Sasha, but she insists upon being brave and stubborn. You know what she's like."
Sasha leans against the table that Sam and Cyrus are seated at; her arms are folded across her chest, her demeanor a mixture of stiff anger and notable unsteadiness. "If they want-" she catches the sharp words, her tone softening, "If they want to negotiate with Apolo for rights, -they- can. And that's-" her arms unfold, and she points an accusing finger towards Cyrus, tones heated, "Exactly why you just don't get it. God. Some things are worth pursuing, some burdens are worth carrying. You just -do- it."
The east wing of the Huntington is rather quiet tonight, and the Quinn room seems the only place with any notable sounds at all. Or maybe, there's just someone listening. Whoever that someone is certainly isn't going to any means to conceal themselves. The sound of boots on hardwood floor echo through the halls loudly. And then the double doors open, revealing a lithe man in a swanky suit. Yeah, that's Hendrik alright… except he's missing the cigarette and carrying a guitar case.
Auspex on Hendrik notes:
«Curiosity. Chaotic feelings attacking one another in some kind of strange balance.»
Sam shakes his head; "Mister Sedoso already told you that he would allow you to visit your friend, Sasha. He acknowledges your need. I bet he recognizes it, like I recognize it. It's just that.. when you continue to loose people, when people put daggers in your back, you become very careful about whom you dare to care about. I'm angry about the way of things, but I catch myself not feeling too much." Following up on Cyrus now; "It's not generous, mister Sedoso. Caring is not bad when it doesn't cost you anything. When you don't grant these youngsters this favor they will scoff you for it. There is no effort for me. His personality may be lost in the turmoil, but his soul is un-affected. It's a Christian duty and I'm sure Father Matthew will be more than happy to drop by."
Sam has not noticed Hendrik yet.
Cyrus glances up, surprised to hear Sam speaking in his defense, and thanking him with a hint of a tired smile before his gaze shys again. "Please, Sam. We've had enough drama in the Tower, recently. If I allow it, I don't think they'd forgive me. Besides, I swore I wouldn't let myself suffer this needless ordeal any further. I'm making an exception for Sasha, but as far as I'm concerned, the kid's not worth it," he insists this for a final time, his voice stern but his gaze mild, not even bothering to look at Sasha as he says it. "No, we will not be negotiating with them. I am doing a personal favor for Sasha, and I in turn had to beg the favor from Lord Apolo. I convinced him to give her the chance she deserved. It wasn't easy." He glowers, "I can't even guarantee it, after the sass she gave him last night."
"Better not to feel than to feel too much? I don't buy that. You might as well give up; give in," Sasha says with a sharp shake of her head. The redhead's uneasiness doesn't fade, and she's watching Sam with a hint of trepidation as he mentions the priest; she doesn't look particularly happy about it, either. "He was playing with the kid," she interjects sharply at Cyrus' comment, clearly not liking it. It's probably the sound of boots that draw her attention, something familiar in it that eases her tension and draws her gaze with a growing smile.
Hendrik steps into the room when he's finally noticed, as if it was some kind of queue he's been waiting for. Fashionably late, or just simply fashionable in that rugged, rockstar kind of way. A smile and a nod to Sam and Cyrus, but his attention is first on Sasha, whom he approaches and embraces without further ado. "Mmm… what did I miss?" he asks abroad, seemingly careless and worry free.
Auspex on Hendrik notes:
«Concentrating deeply. His thoughts are a mess of entangled concepts, tugging at the strings of possibilities of the conversation. He is *not* careless and worry free, just the opposite. This is usually the case with Hendrik, as his aura betrays his outward expressions.»
Sam frowns; "Cyrus. No matter what your personal feelings are.. this is a brother you're talking about. Life-boons may allow you to request services, they don't allow you to -own- someone. If anyone can claim Ice it's his blood. When he's as 'gone' as you say he his, there's no reason at all to be possessive about it. There's no need for this neonate to torpor in the Tower. He can torpor here for all I care.. I'll free up the basement. He can torpor anywhere where he's no burden, until he's released."
That's when Hendrik is noticed and greeted with a slight bow and an; "Evening Sir O'Neil". It doesn't keep him from giving Sasha a looong stare however; "What. did. you. do.?"
Auspex on Cyrus notes:
«He calms somewhat, at Sam's understanding words, but he remains uncomfortable with the topic at hand, and wearily attempts to squirm free of it. Had he the energy to be truly stubborn, he'd end it right there, but instead he compromises. That remark about Sasha is offered up as a decoy.»
Auspex on Hendrik notes:
«Not surprised at the mention of Ice. He delves deeper.»
Cyrus grits his teeth. "It's not in my power to say where he is or isn't held. As the his clan elder I've tried to do the responsible thing, to the limits of my abilities, but the fact is, he's lost now, and it's only this sentimental bullshit that's keeping him from becoming a tidy pile of ash. I'm done discussing it. You want him, send a request to the Tower, but I wouldn't recommend it."
Sasha pushes up off the table, throwing her arms around Hendrik's neck, taking in a slow, deep breath as she returns the embrace. Pale eyes shining, she cants her head to study him for a moment, Sam's words slowly drawing her attention away with a pause to collect scattered thoughts. "Nothing- not, anything specific. I didn't bow and scrape, but we were in public- there was a mortal-" she casts a look at Cyrus as if daring him to contradict her, "What did he expect?" She frowns briefly Cyrus' comment- but that's all.
Hendrik joins the group of people including Sasha.
Auspex on Sasha notes:
«A brilliant flare of heat suffuses her, sweeping away earlier emotions— and fades— but isn't entirely gone. Unrepentant, unapologetic for her behavior— it's Sasha being -Sasha-, after all.»
Auspex on Cyrus notes:
«Irritated. Strained. Done with it.»
Hendrik whispers to Sasha, "I'm proud of you."
Hendrik whispers something into Sasha's ear, and squeezes her shoulder for a moment before speaking. "As much as it pains me to do so… I agree with Cyrus. As far as I know, Ice lost himself to his beast and is no better than a shovelhead Sabbat now. Yes, he is our blood, but he's become more of a monster than he ever was. And I was inclined to clean up after his mess more than once. And I never even met the kid. Surely, Sakura may have mentioned it?" he waits moments for a response, then shrugs it off. "Remembering him as he once was is important, as it will teach you control over that part of you that strains to get out… the darkness that we fight every night. But don't hold the baggage too close to your heart. The things elders do are fucked up, but each and every thing fuels the fire to make a change. This incident is no different. It disgusts me. But I'll not raise a barrel to their heads. Their time will come, and so will /ours/."
Auspex on Hendrik notes:
«Pride that Sasha didn't bow.»
Cyrus kicks his chair aside as he stands to face off against Hendrik. "You've got some fucking nerve, coming here, to Sam's own Elysium, and praising her for that behavior… Those manners are going to -ruin- her." He reigns it in with a ragged breath. "Yes, there was a mortal. I guess your all your snide comments and bravado were intended to impress him? It doesn't matter where you are, or who you with, or even if you respect the status this city has granted him. You do not insult an elder. They are /dangerous/." He sets it down in the gentlest terms he can manage. "You don't know Apolo. You don't know what he can do. And you /will/ be at his mercy. You better pray that he doesn't hold a grudge."
Sasha's gaze moves back to Hendrik, attentive, silently musing on his words for a moment. One hand drifts down, settles against his shoulder, and her chin lifts. "If it keeps back the beast, then I'll carry the baggage; it's what I do- it's part of who I am." She exhales at Sam's question of Cyrus, but doesn't interrupt until he's done. "Impress him? God-" a bark of laughter escapes her. "-you're right. I don't know him. I don't -want- to know him. I don't care to curry his favor, or be his best friend- seems like you've got that position nicely filled anyway."
Auspex on Sasha notes:
«Pleased, at Hendrik's praise; bristling stubbornness at Cyrus' comments.»
Auspex on Cyrus notes:
«His pride is there, and the strong impulse to defend an honor. But there's something protective in the scolding lash of anger. He knows Apolo, and knows what he can do, and the thought leaves him sick with dread, for her sake.»
Sam considers Sasha's words, then listens to Cyrus' explanation; "I might send a request mister Sedoso, but not before Sasha's visit."
He starts to gather the reports on the table now, preparing to leave the room; "You may not care about the consequences mister O'Neil. Everything for 'your cause'.. using people. Like you bought Sasha's life, granting this boon to Lord Ibanez, merely so you could be 'friends' for the purpose of spying on your enemy, Valentin. Do your cheering somewhere else where it doesn't put her, my and Lord Cesare's head on the line. Continue it and I promise you will share the consequences."
And at that he starts to pace out.
"Who are you to tell me how to feel? Yes, I am /PROUD/! Proud she does not bow to the enemies of us all, who whether you'd admit it or not… each of us holds contempt for. I am proud she does not bow to him for what he and his did to Ice! Oh, how clear it is to me the irony, the bittersweet feeling that makes my insides churn! You wish her to bow, to give herself into servitude to someone whose taken so much from each of us. A piece of our clan. A piece of our blood. A piece of our /soul/. No, if I taught her anything, I taught her never to get on her knees for someone whose only wish is to see her suffer." Hendrik's words are ablaze, and his eyes show this. "I /never/ said she should not respect him. I never said she should not /fear/ him. Apolo is dangerous and should be regarded with caution, and care. But servitude? No. If I know Sasha, nothing I could say would ever push her to do such a thing. And that's why she's my blood. And Sam, who are you to explain that boon in such a derogatory way? Do you know what was running through my head that night? No. I cannot stand to see a mortal killed, especially for a fault of my own. It brings out my /personal/ beast. That she happened to be Valentin's at the time was why we began our chat, not why it ended." He looks to Sasha now, this part directed towards her a bit more softly, but still firm. "And I trust she will take a lesson from me and learn to keep her thoughts to herself around those such as Apolo. Charm for your enemies goes a long way, and leaves them open for stealth. Do not insult him, even if you have to distance yourself from him. Be charming if you have to. Hell, even lie. But /never/ bow. And never forget why you are here in the first place."
Hendrik shakes his head. "If only I were at the Rhino an hour earlier." He takes a deep, automatic breath.
Auspex on Hendrik notes:
«Anger. Reeling, fuming anger at what Sam said. Righteous fury focused on a point he feels prevalent.»
Cyrus closes his eyes and weathers Hendrik's speech with a patience trained by familiarity. "Was I asking her to bow? No. I was asking her to mind her tongue, and not to give him the excuse. I know the price of pride, I know it damn well, and it cost me more than my standing- It nearly cost me my existence on several occasions." He looks to Sasha now, the ice in his gaze holding his anger hard and still. "If you want to know him as an enemy, that your choice, but bear in mind… He will be your host at the Tower. You will be seeking his permission. I suggest you change your tune." And he leaves it at that.
Sasha falls still at Sam's words, icy countenance a mask for the sudden anger underneath, posture stiff. She is markedly - unusually silent - pale gaze following Sam's departure wordlessly. Even Hendrik's words do not distract her initially, her gaze on the other Toreador until he departs. "Not an enemy," she finally says, voice sharp: "But not a friend." Her fingers against Hendrik's shoulder loosen and run down the length of his arm, head lowering.
Auspex on Sasha notes:
«Pure fury, barely contained.»
Auspex on Cyrus notes:
«That anger runs deep, sparks provoked by more than a few of Hendrik's comments. But control is key tonight, and by the time he looks to Sasha, his intent is steady and true.»
Sam hehs; "Really? It's not what you whispered to Jose, in that alcove Hendrik. And for your information; Ali and Maxine killed Ice. But you wouldn't dare to blame them don't you? No. You run to them to betray those who believe them your allies.. like you betrayed Valentin when he came for your aid against Ali's tyranny and Isabel's madness. Then take Valentin's land. When idealism doesn't keep you from bowing to greed and power, it certainly shouldn't keep you from bowing out of courtesy and survival instinct."
A bow is extended to the room at large; "Good Evening."
Auspex on Samael notes:
«actually, not very angry at all. Calm and calculated to some degree.»
Hendrik growls. Death metal at it's extreme. "Valentin betrayed South Central, Sam. As did you when you chose Emerson as your master. /Valentin/ was the one gathering weapons to use against my neighbors, however tyrannical or mad they may be. And Jose… well, let it suffice to say he wasn't too happy I had Sasha in my sights to begin with. If you haven't noticed, what I say and think tend to be very different until I get ANGRY." His hand twitches near his waist, tenses, then relaxes. "How /dare/ you, Sam. Your words cut like a knife. I considered you friend, but so eloquently does the truth come out?" Hendrik's blood pumps hard and fast. "Valentin delivered Isabel to Santa Monica with the aid of Cassius and Cyrus, or do you forget? His plans were treacherous, and I did what I did for /justice/. Ali and Isabel have shown me their true colors after the circus, and perhaps I moved too quickly in aiding them. But I do not regret it. And as for who did the deed to Ice, it does not matter. It needed to be done. But who holds him now, Sam? Who keeps him in the tower?" He turns away from the Keeper, and lets him leave. A long moment of silence. "…. My words fall silent on one long lost."
Sam hmms, his gaze skimming the room; "So much to talk about and so little time. Drop by another time. I owe Sasha the South-Central-talk. Why not make it a party?" He offers a wink, turns and leaves.
"That's a fair compromise," Cyrus mutters to Sasha in agreement. He was turning to go, but the history intrigues him, Sam's words holding him with a stunned admiration, and by the time Sam is finished, the tension is inescapable, and he steps between Sam and Hendrik, with firm authority in his poise. "Careful," is his only warning, with a fearless snarl.
All that inescapable fury has to go somewhere, Sasha's posture stiff with it, teeth gritting against the words the two exchange. Silently, she moves to stalk off towards the door— not in pursuit of Sam, but of the exit.
"Oh, save it cowboy. What do you think I'm gonna do, shoot the place up?" asks Hendrik. He shakes his head, melancholy and closed-eyed. "A painful past he tears from the hinges, bent and shaped like a dagger to hurt my Childe. So much he is ignorant of… I'd rip his head off if it was on my lands. Interesting how he perceives the Fuerza, no?" A growl. As he sees Sasha stalk off, he makes to follow her outside.
Cyrus's attention cuts past Hendrik to the departing Sasha- The victim of all that tension. He can offer nothing more than a pained snarl for her- He can not reach out, he does not call to her. He does, however, catch Hendrik by the arm as he moves to follow her. His grip is ruthless and firm. "Let her go," he suggests, "Enough damage has been done tonight." He meets his clanmates gaze, seeking his agreement.
Sasha doesn't wait, nor even pause- she's off through the door, the sharp clip of heels ringing out her mood as she disappears.
Hendrik glares at Cyrus, but doesn't move to fight it. He watches Sasha leave, and once she has left, he tugs himself free of Cyrus's grasp. A nearby chair gets kicked into empty space, doing nothing but releasing heat from Hendrik's rage. His fists are tight… but they soon give. He finds a seat, his head falling into his hands. "Sasha…" is all he can muster from his lips.
Auspex on Hendrik notes:
«Genuine, for once.»
Cyrus is left speechless for a time, staring at the empty doorway, before he hangs his head and turns back to see the aftermath. "…So the choirboy has venom in him. I'd 've warned you if I knew…" He wanders past to gather up the pile of books and documents he had spilled there. "I don't know what to tell you, brother," he mutters meanwhile. "If you know her, you know she won't forgive you."
Auspex notes on Cyrus:
«Overwhelmed. A sympathy he can't quite grasp. He feels the pain.»
"She knows my story. I've never kept it from her." Hendrik remains seated, still shaking his head. "Part of me hopes you are wrong, but the rest?" He leaves that unanswered. When he raises his face, there is a bit of blood on his hands, though it's watered down strangely with what appears to be.. clear tears? Though one cannot be sure, of course. He takes a deep breath. "It took her a long time to forgive me about Valentin, and I feel there will always be a part of her that resents me for that. But for Sam to bring up the past in such a way… to demonize me for what I believe to be just… and in front of her? I could take it. You know my balls to be brass enough to not let something like that phase me. But her… she brings out the human in me. Something long forgotten. In front of her, I'll always have something to prove." He stands up, and watches the door one more time before adjusting the guitar strapped to his back. He looks ready to leave.
Cyrus makes no move to stop him as he shuffles the books into order, but decides to leave them there. "If you've been honest with her, then the worst already over. If not…" He shrugs, respectfully allowing Hendrik his space to depart, not even looking towards the door. "She's not human anymore, Hendrik. You saw to that."
