The Sangruis Society

[potassiumboron]

​

When Obediah Crownfield had been thrown from his home at the tender age of 16, he had never anticipated returning - nor had he particularly desired to.

His father had always been a cold man who unsubtly played favourites with his children and who had been the one to suggest (or rather, force) that Obediah leave the country home after the discovery that his youngest was in a relationship with one of the home's many staff. That along would have been a reason enough to punish Obediah - the fact that the servant had been a man was the thing that pushed his father over the edge, unable to fathom how his son had ended up in such a situation. Desperate to keep the Crownfield reputation as high as it had been for centuries (and completely incapable of even sharing the same house as his son now he had learned of his 'deviance'), Obediah had been sent away with nothing more than a few clothes and enough money to get himself to London; as far away from the countryside village he had grown up in as possible.

Obediah had lived a sheltered life, and so moving to the city was not easy for him, but it had been the only option he felt he could take, despite how daunting a task it was for someone like him to suddenly become independent and capable enough to defend himself from a lively city and all its dangers. He had always been naive and incredibly nervous; someone whose own shadow often caused him to jump. Surviving in a city he was not accustomed to was a task that he thought would kill him.

Four years without hearing from their son, his family thought the same, his mother (who he had always been the closest to, and who probably favoured him a little more than her other children) fearing the worst. Little did she realise that her son wasn't dead - at least not in the traditional sense. He very nearly could have been killed, had he not been fortunate enough to be looked upon favourably by August and Padraig, and later, by the other 6 men at the infamous Sangruis Society.

Even though Obediah had spent two weeks on the streets before he was taken in by the Society, he had heard about them through whispers of passing Londoners. Word spread fast in the city, he learned, especially when it concerned some mysterious, elitist society who hundreds of men were presumably eager to join (most not even aware what it was about), only to be turned away because they didn't fit the criteria. Obediah had never paid such whispers much notice, assuming that the Society was just one of many in the city where gentlemen could go to discuss politics and play poker.

He could never have imagined, like many that knew of the Society's existence, what really went on behind its closed doors. Only those August sought were invited to join; only the men he deemed capable and determined, with the right amount of potential, could join - and of course, they had to want it. There was no point in recruiting men who didn't want to become vampires, like they were; not when the entire point of the Society was to share experiences and help one another, whether that be with feeding or protection from hunters in the city. Obediah was an exception, he was told; he was taken into the Society without being forced to make a choice straight away. He was deemed 'special'; someone August was quite happy to remain human as long as he wanted. Why August felt that way about him was something Obediah never figured out, but he was grateful nonetheless - grateful enough to throw himself into the running of the Society. He helped them out in the disposals of the humans they had drunk dry during the night and, able to walk in the sunlight during the day without fear of burning, he would often go about the city, passing along messages and setting up potential victims for the men at the Society who had become his family - the family that never once judged him for his gentle, nervous disposition, and who seemed to accept his sexuality without one ounce of judgement. They even responded with fury when he finally told them his story; of a father who had beaten and abandoned him, with sisters who turned from loving to disgusted in seconds and a brother who, while he never doubted his love, didn't stand up to protect him.

It was the feeling of acceptance and being around an actual family again that helped him make his mind up. Admittedly, Obediah new that the main pull factor of sacrificing his humanity was his boyfriend, the idea of being at his side for the rest of eternity being too tempting to turn down, even if it meant going through a horrible transformation and receiving the same cravings the others at the Society all displayed. He had seen with his own eyes throughout those four years, where he lived with them as a human, how difficult it was, even for vampires like August and Padraig who had lived for more than a century with the affliction. However experienced they were, the cravings could become so intense that it made them act more monstrously than they cared to be - and while that terrified Obediah, who couldn't bear to see anything hurt, let alone consider himself causing that pain, he was willing to undergo all of that to be a permanent member of the mysterious Society, and be in the lives of August and the others for as long as the Society was around.

It was cruel, then, that the moment he was brave enough to take the change on and prepare himself for the following horrors as his body adjusted to the newfound vampirism, his mother's letter would arrive at the doorstep of the Society. He had only just been turned by Padraig when he read the news of his father's death; a brief line about the funeral, followed by entire paragraphs of his mother begging him to come home; saying how she had never wanted him to go in the first place and how, no matter what had happened, he was always welcome home whilst she was there.

Obediah knew how irresponsible it was to leave the Society's door when he had just been turned. Being out around humans was difficult for even the oldest of vampires, who knew how to control themselves - a new, fledgling vampire was never going to cope all that well. Yet, Obediah opted to leave that very night, leaving behind a letter explaining why he had left and when he planned to return. As dangerous as it was for him to go, he knew he couldn't leave his mother at home, never to see him again. And so, he left, taking a horse and carriage overnight until he arrived at the family estate, fortunately a few hours before morning arrived. The journey hadn't been without its difficulties - in fact, he ended up demanding the driver to stop in order to feed from an unfortunate highway thief. It hadn't ceased the thirst, even when he drained him dry - all it had done was mess his linen shirt and stain his lips, which was far from the good impression he wanted to make to his family after years apart.

He was naive to the fact that, however clean he was, a good impression wasn't possible when he had just been changed. He was paler than a sheet and shivering and shuddering constantly; his eyes dark, wide and sunken. The changes had yet to settle; the more he drank, the quicker the sickness would disappear. Now he was home, however, the chances of feeding from anyone were slim: he had already told himself countless of times that he wasn't going to hurt his family, which only made enduring the sickness an unfortunate certainty.

It was his oldest sister Eva that opened the door to him, her eyes widening at the hooded, shivering figure of her brother on the doorstep. Despite her mother's letter, she had never expected Obediah to arrive, fully expecting him to be dead. Her initial belief was that he couldn't be far away from death, his appearance, to her, seemingly reminiscent of a corpse. Even though her final words to her brother years ago had been ones of disgust and disappointment, she quietly welcomed him in, too shocked by his state to utter anything, besides the news to the family at the dining table. Wisely, she opted to do this before allowing Obediah through, deciding a warning was suitable to lessen the shock.

"Obediah is-- he's-- home-- Obediah's here. He doesn't look good, Mother. He's sick, I'm sure of it-- Forrest, go and see to him first. If he's sick, he can't be near Mother; she's sick enough as it is."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

Much like the others, Forrest had very low expectations. He knew better than anyone of just how naive and weak his brother was and while it was dark, he hadn't thought Obediah would last more than a month. To be met with his brother face-to-face after hurrying from the drawing room down the expansive staircase, he froze in shock. He filled the blanks, having assumed that his brother had somehow survived the best he could on the street... though clearly, his best wasn't great. Pursing his lips warily, he couldn't keep back his tears as he tugged his brother into his arms eagerly. It wasn't proper but his father was dead and he gave himself a break from the forced manners as he buried his face in his brother's neck.

"You... how? How did you survive?" Forrest quickly asked once pulling away, his cheeks red and his eyes watery as he took his brother in up close. "Oh my Lord - let me get you some blankets, you look horrible," he babbled out, sniffling as he led his brother away from the door. "I wouldn't recommend you see mother yet, you look sick yourself. She... hasn't gotten any better since you left, after all. I'm sure this will lift her spirits but I want to make sure you won't hurt one another. Eva! Have the cook prepare a hot meal for our brother, will you? Mother kept your room intact, even after father wanted the damn place burned down. You knew him, he had a flair for the dramatics," he drawled, his babbling now growing quiet as he led the youngest through the foyer to one of the many rooms, offering him a seat in front of the fireplace. The weather had been atrocious, the rain cold and heavy enough to kill someone with a low immune system. For all he knew, that was what had influenced his brother's illness.

"How have you been? You... I'm just stunned that you survived," he admitted with a laugh, his head shaking. "You're... very lucky, Obediah. You'll be pleased to know that father is rotting in his grave as we speak, as I'm sure you read in the letter. The funeral procession is at dawn if you care to take part. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't, though. Hell, I would be surprised if you didn't spit in the man's grave. That is all over now, though. Now we can be a proper family again. Our sisters are... still quite bitter but they don't matter, do they? They have husbands they can rush off to. Speaking of which, I'm sure you remember Isabelle, yes?" He explained, holding back the urge to just spill everything that had happened in the last four years to his brother then and there. Pursing his lips, he let out a deep sigh. "Please, tell me about what had happened! You... must have had quite the adventure, huh?"

 

[potassiumboron]

Being met by his oldest sister (who had, at one time, been a mother-lie figure for him when their own mother was too ill in bed) and then his brother wasn't remotely easy for the youngest sibling, whose only response to signal that h was taking in what they were saying being the faint smile on his lips. Being back inside the home was difficult fro him, given the contrasting emotions he had experienced growing up there. On one hand, the home was where he had played with his brother and sisters, and where he held all the dear memories he made with his mother. On the other, he couldn't help but be reminded of the last time he was under its roof, where his father had uncovered the taboo relationship and made his feelings quite clear - the scar Obediah now bore was a permanent reminder of that night, but being back in the house only brought on more of those emotions.

If it wasn't the overwhelming emotion he had to deal with, it was the urge he had to shut his brother off from rambling by sinking his teeth down as hard as he could into his throat. The urge horrified him, naturally, even though he had already acted on those urges before arriving at the mansion. There was a difference in attacking a thief, however, and imagining himself hurting his brother who, from his emotional welcome, clearly was pleased to see Obediah alive. He had spent years thinking his brother hated him, so seeing how happy he was only made those thoughts about hurting him all the more disgusting, cringing visibly as he sunk into the chair and held his hands out to the fire. It was a futile attempt at warming himself up - even if he thrust his hands into the flames entirely, he wouldn't dispel the coldness his body now held.

Eventually, he zoned out from listening to Forrest. He wanted to listen to him, but the sound of his heart beating (and the heartbeats of the others in the house) became too cacophonous to ignore. He could hear everything now, even the sound of his sisters whispering upstairs amongst one another. To him, their whispers were as audible as if they were yelling right beside him, which unfortunately let him hear Eva tell them how 'horrendous' he looked, and how he was 'clearly close to death'. If only they knew that, technically, he was already dead - unlike the heartbeats he heard from all of them, his own heart had ceased beating a good couple of hours ago.

He was only brought back to the reality of the present when noticing his brother had stopped talking, jerking suddenly and forcing a smile as he peered across at him, albeit briefly to avoid holding eye contact. The less he looked at his brother, the less he would notice the veins in his neck and just how rosy his cheeks were, which only reminded him of the blood inside the other's body and how good it probably tasted.

"I... made some friends; joined a Society who helped me out a little. I'd be dead without them, I... suppose. London is awful, Forrest. It's loud and so grey and... it's overcrowded. You know how I feel about crowds and people and... it was all rather... well, an adventure, I suppose. Quite unlike me to embark on an adventure like that but I had no choice, I-- forget about me. How's Mother? I came for her; not for the funeral. I... I don't want to sound horrid, but I... could not care less about our father dying."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"A society? Sounds very elite!" Commented Forrest, it being difficult to hide the concern in his eyes as he forced a smile. To watch his brother dissociate without subtly was confusing and terrifying, to say the least, and while he could say it was because he was so deathly ill, there was a part of him that felt... uncomfortable. He didn't know what, chalk it up to brotherly intuition, but he didn't want to bring too much attention to just how poorly the man looked. Darting his own eyes to the foyer nervously, he pursed his lips.

"Things have been... slow. It wasn't until recently that I was hit with a sudden wall of responsibility, to be honest. Now that father is dead, I'm the head of the estate. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, though you and I both know that this was something we craved for years now," Forrest reminded, his hands resting on his lap. It wasn't until a servant hurried to the room with the soup resting on a silver platter, the butler bowing obediently once setting it carefully on the side table. It wasn't polite to eat anywhere but the dining room but this was a special occasion. Hell, he was willing to completely put away any previous rules their father had drilled into his brain if it meant that he could help Obediah to the fullest. Motioning his brother to eat up, he locked his eyes on the other cautiously.

"Listen, I understand if you say no but I would love if you could live with us again. Our door is always open, you should know that. I... just want us all to be a proper family. I care deeply for you and I dont want to lose you. I... should have defended you, I'm sorry. I know I was a horrible brother, I was just... scared," he whispered, sniffling.

 

[potassiumboron]

"...I never expected you to defend me or my actions, though I'm not apologising for them. I never apologised back then so I won't start now; I have nothing to be ashamed of," he declared openly, biting his lip hard in spite of the confidence he spoke with. He had spent the early weeks of his abandonment often wandering whether it was worth being abandoned by his family for something as small as a kiss and whether, in fact, those feelings were normal. Everyone in the society around him would argue that they weren't, that it was an example of some mental deficiency that would ultimately send him down to Hell. It was only when he joined the Society that he gradually grew to believe his feelings were perfectly valid. In fact, it was the only thing he would declare with confidence, at least to his family now his father wasn't around to beat him for the confessions again.

"Father wouldn't have been too harsh on you had you tried to defend me, though. He adored you, Forrest. You could do no wrong in his eyes. I... admit it wasn't easy, handling his anger with nobody but Mother in my corner, but that was four years ago now. I'm fine, I promise. I'm a man, I can... see things differently. I left my anger go a long time ago," he promised as he, without thinking, reached across to take the other's hand as a show of his sincerity, which wasn't wise on two counts. Firstly, it would only show his brother how unnaturally cold he was. Secondly, it only enabled him to feel the other's pulse beneath his skin, snatching his hand away the very moment he did.

His eyes soon turned to the soup as way of a distraction, grimacing at the pungent smell of the tomatoes and herbs. Just a day ago, he would have happily tucked in after such a long journey. Now, the soup hardly appealed to him, especially when he knew what the consequences of eating it all would leave on him. August would down champagne and get sick from it all the time, and that was just drink; that didn't make him as sick as food would. Even August wouldn't eat human food because of how dreadful the consequences were.

However, Obediah knew his brother wouldn't sit by and let him turn the food down; not when Obediah looked as sick as he did. Afraid to even attempt to reject the food, he reached over to place the tray on his lap and began to tuck in, every mouthful causing the grimace on his lips to deepen.

"I... have a life in London now, Forrest. I... would love to say here but it's not possible, not any more. I've... got a family in London who have supported and cared for me for four years; I won't abandon them."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

Cringing at the subtle snarkiness, his guilt only grew heavier. He had expected his brother to be mad and to hit him, it would at least be some form of getting what he deserved. To hear that his brother had accepted and forgave him only made him feel worse. His cold touch didn't help either as he shyly moved his hand away, once again deciding it was because of the cold outside, though it was still pretty suspicious to him. He said nothing, letting some silence between them as Forrest struggled for some words to say.

"I understand, I do not blame you. If I were you, I wouldn't even have answered the note. If you plan to leave, I understand... but I do wish you would at least visit us, Obediah. We finally have you back, I don't want you to leave forever again," he explained urgently, his voice cracking. "Look, it doesn't really matter. What matters is that I have you with me now and I want to make the best of it. Then you can hurry back to London with your new family. Speaking of this, tell me about this new 'family'. Have you found a lover? Are you happy? That is all I care about really, Obediah."

 

[potassiumboron]

"I-- I am not talking to you about... lovers, Forrest. That is... it's... I've accepted the way I feel isn't conventional or understood so I... appreciate the effort, I do, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I know it can't be... easy for you, so let's not even get into discussing my love life, it really isn't worth getting into. Just know I'm happy and that might be because I have someone in my life who makes me happy, but that's all I'll say on that. I... I'm not too good with all of this, Forrest," he laughed under his breath, pushing the now empty bowl aside with his eyes settled on the fireplace. He had never been remotely good at discussing love or even something as simply as attraction. Back when he was younger, he had a reason for that discomfort - he couldn't talk about it with his brother when he asked him about girls he might have an eye on, knowing that if he did answer him every word would be a lie. Now he could be open, but he found it incredibly difficult to do that, fearing that any openness on his part would just make his brother uncomfortable. He knew that it wasn't exactly normal in their society to be discussing attraction and feelings for another man, so as grateful as he was to his brother, he didn't want to be the cause of Forrest's potential discomfort - he loved him too much for that.

After another few minutes of Obediah completely zoning out, the battle against hurting his brother or anyone else in the house being one he had to dedicate immense focus towards, he finally had enough temporary control to glance back over at Forrest with a faint smile. The shivers had only intensified and he could feel his stomach begin to churn from the human food, but he forced that away to appear as normal as he could... though normalcy wasn't achievable for him anymore. Even when the sickness faded and the transformation's consequences ceased, Obediah would be left with the reminder that he wasn't normal anymore: he was a vampire and there was no escaping that. There was evidence of that just through his enhanced appearance - at least, there would be after the sickness disappeared.

"I want to see Mother now. I... would like to see our sisters but I know they're not happy with me being here. They... don't agree with my lifestyle, and that's fine. Mother doesn't care about that, she's the only one I know for certain accepts me, so... so I'd like to see her, Forrest. I'm not sick, she won't get sicker around me. I promise; I'd tell you if I was ill. I'm in perfect h-health."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"You are clearly ill, Obediah!" Forrest countered in shock. Either his brother was delusional or he was an idiot to think that he could just stroll into their sickly mother's room in the state he was in. It was already dangerous to be sick in her old age. He had seen much healthier and younger women die from just being in the presence of a sick child before and while they did have a private doctor, it wasn't like he could make a casual house-call if the woman was on her deathbed. In fact, he had to force back disgust at just how... how pompous his brother was acting, in his eyes.

"No, certainly not. You must be mad to assume I would let you just stroll up to her bedroom in the state you're in. You're... deathly ill, at least you look to be. You know how prone to illness our mother is, do you know how dangerous it could be if you even breathed around her? N-No, I... I won't allow that. As the head of the estate now, I can put my foot down. You should rest, you traveled quite a bit to get here. Now that you've got a full stomach of something warm, you can sleep - mother made sure to keep your room nearly the same, as I said before. Once you wake up, you'll hopefully be in a better state - and she will too, ideally. She... just... can't see you," he tried to explained, his voice firm and unwavering as he got to his feet.

"I'm sure a warm night's sleep will make you right as rain," he declared, waiving off any worry. "Come, now. Besides, wouldn't want to worry mother about your current state, would you? It would only make her condition worse and I don't want that for either of you."

 

[potassiumboron]

Obediah wasn't exactly sure how to react to his brother's assertive tone, taking Forrest's dominating words with a shocked expression. The words hurt him of course - all Forrest succeeded in doing, by stamping down his authority and declaring the status he had now their father was dead, was align himself to their father, at least in Obediah's mind. Hearing his father declare how important he was because he was the Lord of the manor and the family estate was something Obediah had heard countless times in his youth. Whatever he did that wasn't to his father's liking, he was told to stop simply because his father had that authority over him, being both his father and the head of the estate.

Hearing his brother sound eerily like the deceased man made Obediah cringe and step away from the other, his eyes instead locked back on the fireplace to distract himself from doing somewhere he didn't want to do. His first reaction was to genuinely fear his brother, the sudden connection he made between him and their father ultimately making him wary that Forrest was like the man in more ways than just verbal - that perhaps he might unleash some physical attack on him like their father had done if Obediah continued to protest and demand. His second reaction, however, was to snap the other's neck and drain him - fortunately, while he came close to doing that (his fangs even growing in anticipation of a meal), he forced the urges away. Admittedly, the fact he vomited up the contents of his meal was probably the distraction he needed, doubling over as he abruptly threw up onto the hardwood floors. The soup wasn't the only thing he threw up - the blood from the unfortunate highwayman soon followed, the sight of which only made Obediah grimace. He didn't remotely care that he had ruined the fur rug, nor did he care that the almost unnatural pool of blood he had thrown up would only convince his family he was dying.

He just cared that all the blood he had drank had now been spilled, placing him firmly back at square one, completely unfulfilled and more hungry than ever.

"...Get him to bed immediately, he's sick and-- he's not to come out of that room until a doctor has seen to him," began Eva, the woman having stood by in the doorway observing the conversation silently for a minute, though rushed forward the instant Obediah threw up and demanded a servant to aid him in heading upstairs. "Locking him away from us all is the right step, Forrest-- you shouldn't have invited him back here. If any of us get sick, it'll be down to you and Mother for bringing that... man back here."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"I-I... I didn't mean to make you upset!" Squeaked Forrest in horror, his face lacking in color as he froze in fear. He didn't care that much about the fur rug; he would most likely get another as a present or something from Isabelle's parents. What really made him uncomfortable was the amount of blood that he vomited. He had seen the same thing happen with his father and he didn't live much longer. Hurrying to his brother's side, he quickly moved to wrap his arms around the other to help stable him.

"Oh my, I... I'M sorry," he whispered, his eyes beginning to grow wet. Said eyes landed on Eva in disgust. "Eva, you get to bed. Your attitude is disgusting. He is our brother and you have the audacity to act like some... some disrespectful wench. I'll help our brother alone, you can go and whisper all you want, I won't have this when our brother is so ill." He scolded firmly. "It is late anyway and you certainly need your beauty sleep. Wouldn't want your husband to be horrified by your appearance now, would he?"

 

[potassiumboron]

"You can talk down to me as though I'm one of the maids here, but that doesn't mean I'm going to allow you to. Our brother is ill; he needs to leave home. I will not have anyone here -including you- grow sick because he's selfishly living under this roof. Do you want him to have us all come down with whatever illness he's caught? Do you want our mother to die because of him? Your protectiveness for him has come four years too late, you know that. The least you can do is save him from killing the rest of us with whatever damned disease he has," the eldest sibling of the family snapped in response, her arms folding across her chest as she watched her youngest brother disregard the efforts of help and climb the stairs himself.

Of course, the pitiful display did tug at her heartstrings; she loved her brother, even in spite of the disgust she felt knowing he was attracted to men. She couldn't just stop herself from loving and caring for him... but she also had her own family to protect now, and like hell was she prepared to get sick and die because Obediah was around, potentially spreading the disease that she thought was quickly killing him.

"It was irresponsible that he arrive here. You can insult me all you want but it's best that he remains locked in that room where he can't contaminate us. The doctor can be called and he can inspect him tomorrow. Until then, I think he ought to be away from us all - if you think that's somehow a bad idea, you're deluded, Forrest. He is dying and-- I for one don't want to be the next to drop down dead because of it."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"If we let him go back out, he'll surely die in the street. He is our brother, Eva! Does that not mean anything to you?! Are you really going to just sit back and disregard him all because he loves another man? If that's true, then you're no sister of his. As for him staying here, if you have a problem you have the right to leave. I'm the one who helps tend to mother the most while all of you enjoy your homes with your husbands. The fact that you have the audacity to tell me I'm putting mother in danger is beyond disrespectful and frankly, I don't want to hear anymore of this. Obediah is staying until a doctor can properly take a look and if he says it's critical, I want our brother to at least feel like his family cares about him in his final moments. That is final, understood? If you have a problem, you are free to leave."

As he spoke, he hurried behind his brother with flustered cheeks. It was all so overwhelming and he would prefer to just slink in bed but that would not only be a poor image for a Lord but for a gentleman and a brother as well.

"Obediah, please slow down!" He begged as he hurried to follow. "This isn't good for your health! I'll... tell mother you've arrived but I do recommend you relax for the night, at the very least! I'm sure you'll be bright and dandy come morning."

 

[potassiumboron]

"And I have told you that there is nothing wrong with my health. The fact you don't believe me is... i-is astounding. The least you could do is believe me, Forrest. I... dislike how you're acting right now. You are no better than I am. Just because you have the family estate doesn't mean you get to speak to me as though I'm nothing; I... don't... my friends I made in London have helped me a lot with my self-esteem and my confidence. I am not allowing you to ruin that for me by... thinking you're somehow more important than I am just because you have all of this to your name. This is all meaningless, Forrest; I'm your brother. That ought to mean you don't throw your title at me-- but I'm sure father would be proud of you for it. I'm sure he's smiling up at you from the fires of Hell right about now."

The speech came to an end with Obediah calmly turning around on the staircase-- at least, the calmness was in place until he glanced at his brother. Immediately, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides, his jaw clenched and his eyes appearing a shade or two darker in his anger. He was never good at maintaining anger and, eventually, it would disappear - but for that brief moment or two, he had been angrier than he had been for months, maybe even a solid year or two. He didn't like feeling angry and nobody could really say that they often saw him displaying that, but he felt he had a right to be angry with Forrest. The elder brother, however, was fortunate enough to be loved by Obediah or the latter might have lost control, which he had been perilously close to doing.

"...I''m sorry, I apologise for the outburst, I just-- being back here isn't something I anticipated happening, it's overwhelming and the one person I know can help me adjust and feel comfortable is off limits because of your saying so. It's unfair and... and I just... I want to see my mother, as I have a right to do. I'm not sick; she's under no threat around me."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"How can you look me in the eye and tell me you aren't sick when you just coughed up blood?" He replied with a laugh of disbelief, his head shaking as he set his hands on his waist. "You're... are you daft? I'm not crazy, right, Eva? That wasn't a healthy amount of blood to cough up, Obediah. You're... wow. I'm just..." He babbled in response, one of his hands holding his head.

"Oh, how dare you compare me to our father, Obediah. I-I'm worried for the sake of our mother and it's clear that you're in a state where you can't make intelligent decisions. Am I really not making any sense? I just - you aren't seeing mother. I'm not letting you, not when you're coughing up blood. "

 

[potassiumboron]

The continuously assertive tone didn't do much to help Obediah relax, his jaw tightening again at his brother's words. He had an urge to just blurt out the truth there and then; to tell him the reasoning behind his sickness and how it was far from contagious. Yet, he also knew, deep down, that if he admitted to what the Society was about and what he had signed up to by permanently joining them, his family would never allow him near his mother again. Hell, he doubted they would want him under the roof as them, and their inevitable fear of him if the truth ever came out would only spur Obediah on to hurt them - he had been told countless times how intoxicating fear was in a victim to a vampire; it fuelled their predatory instincts. As tempting as it was to blurt the truth out and gain a little power over his brother, the consequences of it was dire.

Snapping out of that did allow him to recognise how close he had once again come to hurting the other, blinking in surprise once taking into account how close he had stepped up to Forrest. It was only when he was in that position that he realised how he was now taller than him, and while he could have used that to his advantage, to try and assert some dominance of his own, he predictably backed down with a meek nod. Obediah was never someone who could defend himself properly, even when he was in the right. Recognising just how meek he still was made him miss his boyfriend more - if Padraig was present, Forrest would never get away with acting like he was to his brother. He was the person that had instilled in Obediah a feeling of self-worth. The fact that had now all but disappeared made him cringe in disgust with himself.

"...I don't need a doctor, though. I... I'll go to bed and I won't see Mother, but promise me, Forrest. Promise me no doctor will be called. I... I just need rest," he murmured, casting a quiet glance behind him at their sister, who merely scoffed in disbelief. "A cup of tea and some sleep will do me good, I promise. Tomorrow's the funeral; it isn't about me. If I'm still... sick after tomorrow, I'll see the doctor myself."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"I... I'm not doing this to be cruel, Obediah, I'm simply thinking in the best interest for our mother. If you feel better come morning, there's... no reason for you not to see her, I just - while I don't believe anyone here misses our father, I don't want to lose any more family," he admitted, his body tensing from the close proximity at the most likely shared memory of their father doing much the same before instilling punishment.

"That's all I ask, Obediah. All i ask is for you to rest. No doctors will be called in, I promise you that - nor will any of our sisters or Isabelle. Once our father's funeral is over, we can relax more, yes?" He confirmed quietly, his hands behind his back as he struggled to keep a calm composure. "I don't mean I sound overbearing or controlling."

 

[potassiumboron]

Obediah had plenty he wanted to say in response to his brother, from emphasising just how sorry he was for causing so much stress to unleashing just how angry he was with him for being so overbearing and believing he could throw his status around and be obeyed immediately because of it. Instead of uttering anything, no matter what emotions were behind it, the only thing Obediah wanted to do was get some sleep - even if he knew that sleep was now impossible for him, he wanted to at least lay in a dark room and pretend for a while. He didn't regret the decision he had made to go through the change, but being in a house full of humans wasn't easy. For a little while at least, he wanted to try and feel normal, like he wasn't too different from they all were.

The night hadn't been the easiest - though Obediah naturally didn't expect it to be. He had heard from the other men at the Society that the change was notoriously difficult and the sickness that came with it didn't subside until a few feeds had been completed. Obediah had had no intention of hurting anyone whilst at the house, deeming it far too risky in fear of someone discovering what he had done. He had intended to wait until he got back to London, to have his boyfriend, August and the others help him adjust.

By the time morning broke, he had gone back on and broken that intention. He barely recalled the night's events, spending most of the last few hours in a daze. He only really broke out of the disassociated daze when feeling sunlight on his skin, the burning sensation immediately bringing him out of his thoughts. As he shut the curtains, he took into account the state the room was in and, thus, remembered instantly what had happened during the night - how he had spent hours biting at his own arms and smashing things up in an effort to control himself, before giving in and making victims of two unfortunate maids. Their bodies were now lying in a shallow grave in the nearby fields, a fact that made Obediah panic the moment it hit him... though he wasn't going to pretend that feeding from them hadn't helped him considerably, the thirst, for now, a little less unbearable. He was still pale, his eyes were still dark and he was still ridiculously cold, though those were all characteristics he knew he would have to deal with for the rest of his life.

After cleaning the room free of blood, and himself too, he finally dared himself to leave the room, confident that the overcast skies would conceal the sun enough. The late-night feeding had, apparently, subdued the sickness just enough for the benefits of his vampirism to take effect a little more. As he settled at the dining table for breakfast, he had to listen in to maids in the kitchen quarters gossip amongst themselves about how 'handsome' he supposedly was now he wasn't so sick. Hearing that his looks were advancing as good to hear, and he wasn't so shy that he hated compliments, but he didn't want to hear maids compliment him - he only wanted to hear how handsome he was from his boyfriend, whose absence only made him miss and love him more than ever.

The silence at the table could only be ignored for so long, the youngest brother growing uncomfortable as all his sisters' eyes seemed to be on him in shock at the sudden change in him - the advancement in his appearance was hardly subtle, but he already had the excuse of it being a result of a good night's sleep, however impossible that seemed. He had grown unquestionably more handsome over the course of a few hours, and sleep being the reason seemed illogical, though that was the excuse he was determined to stick to. It was better than saying he had killed two women and drunk them dry.

"...What time's the funeral? I'd like a bath before we bury our father," he began calmly, running a hand through his hair with a tired glance up at the family portraits on the wall. "...Where's my portrait gone? I... would like to have it back, to give away as a gift to someone I care about."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"It's in the cellar. Father insisted on burning it but mother urged him to at least keep it out of sight. We haven't had the time to put it back up, naturally," Forrest explained as he took a sip of his tea, his eyes only then avoiding his brother's nervously. He was just as shocked by the suddenly new appearance as the others but decided not to bring any attention toward it, deciding it was just the result of healthy sleep. Offering a small smile, he nodded.

"You look... much healthier. No need to call the doctor, hm? Has your stomach settled a bit? I don't want you to attend the funeral - which is in two hours - if you're feeling ill. Mother will most likely be down an hour before the funeral, try and insist that she wants to help before getting exasperated and having to return to bed," he drawled, shaking his head st the routine. "Things will go smoothly, ideally. The service will only be family so no need to put on a facade for others to try and impress them... I'm sure our father is turning in his grave at the idea. For now, please eat!" He urged, his smile growing a tad to offer encouragement.

 

[potassiumboron]

The confusion and surprise from his family was noticeable, palpably so, but it hadn't come unexpected to Obediah. He had realised that the advancements in his appearance would generate confusion from his family - how could it not when he looked drastically more beautiful than he had just ten or so hours ago? That didn't mean he had expected the nervousness, glancing up in his own surprise when he practically heard just how nervous his brother seemed to be, able to read the expression like a book. The nervousness, at first, horrified him, unable to fathom the idea that his brother was wary of him - and if he found the appearance difficult to comprehend, then learning the truth of what his little brother now was would hardly go down well at all.

However, that horror soon became something else, Obediah's brow arched and a small smirk pulling at his lips, his fingers delicately and nimbly picking up the china teacup to take a sip. It would make him ill, but he wouldn't violently throw up like he did when he ate - a little discomfort and the feeling of nausea from drinking tea wasn't too bad a sacrifice to make if it helped him look normal.

"...Why are you so nervous, Forrest? You can't even look at me," he noted aloud, to the shock of his sisters who were far from accustomed to hearing Obediah speak so confidently. In fact, Obediah briefly took himself by surprise, though it disappeared instantly, replaced with the confidence instilled in him by the Society. "You have no reason to... be nervous of me. I'm over the sickness; I look like I always do when I'm in good health. You last saw me when I was 16; I'm 20 now, I'm a man. I've grown up. If that makes you nervous... I'm not sure there's anything I can do about that. Anyway, yes, I'm feeling much better. A good night's sleep was all I needed. I'd like to see Mother; maybe you can have her attend breakfast with us? I have so much to talk to her about."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"You just look... completely different compared to last night, is all." He explained quickly, though it wasn't the complete truth. The real reason he was so nervous was the fact that the idea of the other being so ill that he was vomiting blood to being this stunning modelesque person was like whiplash. It wasn't natural but he could hardly imagine that it would be appropriate to bring that up while amongst his family. Cutting a piece of his sausage, he used it to be able to properly think of something to say.

"Yes, well... since you're in such high spirits, I don't see why you shouldn't see her. I know you haven't seen her in the last four years and have no idea what her condition is, so... just please be careful. You most likely forgot about just how fragile she can be," he reminded, his own feigned confidence returning to his voice. "Don't spend too long, don't forget the reason you're here, technically; the funeral."