The Sangruis Society

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"We can always ask him about the inheritance tomorrow. As long as you stop me from getting too angry, of course. I don't think I'm an angry person, but this means a lot to me. I deserve to have my mother's belongings-- at least some of them--"

"Not an angry person? Do you not see the burns you inflicted on me and your boyfriend? These'll take months to heal. I hate the sight of them," groaned August as he held his hand up for reference, grimacing to himself at the unsightly burned flesh. At least, it was unsightly to him - he desired to look as perfect as he could, and the burns, to him, impacted that. More than that, they hurt - if he so much as brushed his hand against something, the pain intensified and would sting for several minutes before calming again. "...I forgive you, as does Pat I assume, but you're angry when you want to be. It was rather frightening, actually. And you punched me earlier. You're stronger than you were, Obediah. It actually bruised me."

"...Yes, well, I apologised to Pat for that. I didn't... think before I acted. I suppose my father's temper had to be passed down to me. Forrest certainly doesn't display anger from what I've seen," he grimaced, avoiding glancing at the burns in order to save himself from the guilt that would inevitably arise. "I... hate the fact I look like my father. But I do. My mother always said that I was his double. Forrest isn't; he has my mother's looks. Fortunately for him. All my sisters follow her, too. Of course one of us had to look like that monster; it's just my luck that it fell to me."
 
Padraig tried to not bring notice to his own burned arms, instead keeping his eyes locked on the fire. He too felt the pain every time his skin grazed Obediah's or the chair but he knew how to keep his physical pain to himself. Emotional was a little more difficult, as was evident by his reaction to the break up.

"If your father looked as handsome as you do, then I must thank him for passing on his appearance," he murmured, preferring to lock on that topic rather than on his own appearance. "As I said, the Crownfield's are very attractive. Must be that whole 'higher society' sort of thing. I was horribly ugly before I was turned, really."
 
"Well, that's not true. I was an orphan, Pat. I had no experience amongst the higher classes, and I've always been attractive. Perhaps not as daring as I am now, with my fashion sense and whatnot, but ugly? Oh, god, never," laughed August, eager to move the conversation onto something he had a lot to contribute to - he could gladly talk about his fashion and his overall appearance for hours. Fashion was easily his motivation in life. Outside of the business of the Society, he put all his energy into his style, wanting to push boundaries and mix up what he was 'supposed' to be wearing wherever he could. If people thought he was odd or weird, as Forrest presumably still did, that was fine - it just showed him he was doing the right thing, and doing it well.

"Speaking of, I need to go back to Paris soon. For my annual Springtime haul. I would extend an invitation, but the last time you came with me, Pat, you embarrassed me in front of my friends there. Telling them how boring fashion is to their face wasn't very... tactful. It didn't help that you snickered, Obediah. You encourage his awful sense of humour. So no, I won't extend the invite this time. I'd like to keep my connection in France. For humans, they're remarkably interesting. I'd like to keep them as friends, and you two coming along with me really risks that. Forrest, however... I'm sure he'd adore the trip."
 
"This 'fashion' you're oh so in love with is ridiculous! Who cares what you wear? I certainly don't. I only wear what I do because I'm supposed to or god forbid you pass out in horror," Pat easily replied with a chuckle and a dismissive shake of his head. If it were up to him, he would settle on a lovely pair of pants and sturdy shoes, nothing else - Perhaps a fur coat. He was proud of his toned chest and loved parading them when he could do a shirt sort of blocked that.

"As for Forrest, he doesn't seem to know about fashion, either. Though if he's willing to accept you into bed, I can only imagine how easily you could convince him to somehow be interested in this whole 'fashion' thing," he continued before getting to his feet after adjusting Obediah from his feet. "I did quite like Paris, I would love to fog with you again. I'm disappointed that I've been banned."
 
"It's called having a hobby, Padraig. I don't see why you enjoy sailing so much, I'd be bored senseless, but I'm not criticising you for it, am I?" The other vampire retorted defensively, eyeing the other's clothes in distaste. Obediah had been brought up in an environment where he was expected to wear expensive clothing, but money didn't mean the clothes were to August's tastes. As much as he adored splashing the cash, he also knew that expensive clothing wasn't always necessarily good - he often paired the most expensive of trousers with a cheap flared shirt. As long as it fit his aesthetic, he could care less about the price tag, which was why he was dismayed at both Pat's cheaper clothes and Obediah's more expensive ones.

"...Yes, well, you can come if you promise not to embarrass me in front of my friends out in Paris, of course. And if you respect my hobby to not talk bad about it in front of shop owners. It's awfully embarrassing. Maybe I can convince Forrest to take an interest. It'd be nice to have someone to discuss all my ideas with. I'd certainly love to change his style up. He'd look gorgeous in something colourful; all those browns and beige he wears is so bland."
 
"Now I can agree with you on that, the poor boy's only ever worn such boring colors, I'm sure it's got something to do with his father. I don't know, it's all very complicated and I've never been one to deal with familial issues," he casually admitted, knowing that August felt the same in a way. Stretching his arms until a faint 'pop' was heard, the vampire began towards the kitchen.

"What is like to see is for him to dress as freely as you, darlin'," he declared once returning with his own glass. Raising it towards August, he hid his grin through the glass of blood. "I'm hoping you'll be a positive influence on Forrest, much like how I hope to have been for Obediah - right, love? Anywho, when do you plan on leaving? Not soon, I fear? If so, I need to make the proper arrangements and whatnot. I can't just stroll into Paris unprepared, I need to leaks plans. I know you consider my old career as a 'hobby' but I would really like to take you both on a trip me me at some point."
 
"In two months or so, I imagine. There's plenty of time to prepare, assuming we even go. I can't leave the Society if it's in a shambles, can I? John almost got himself killed when we went to the country, you know? Almost walked right out into the sunlight. I need to be here to ensure these idiots don't all do that. They need me and I can't take time off whenever I'd like; I feel bad doing that," he admitted with a quiet glance up at the ceiling at the faint moving about from the other members in their bedrooms. They were all his friends -his family, really- and while Padraig was his best friend, he couldn't face abandoning the other for a month or so, always fearing that, without his leadership, they'd only get themselves into some sort of trouble. He didn't want to spend the next few decades harbouring guilt if one or more of them did get killed without him there to prevent it.

"...I'm sure we'll see how things are in two months. Prepare for the journey nonetheless, it won't do any harm to get things organised in the event we do go," he nodded, easing his head back against the chair with his eyes closed. He didn't sleep, but it didn't mean he couldn't shut his eyes and relax as though he was preparing to do so. "Why are you two here, anyway? I'd have thought you'd go out and absorb the nightlife after being shut away in the countryside?"
 
"After Obediah's stint at the hotel room and on the street, I'd rather he stay in a little while. I know I may not seem it but I've been a vampire much longer than you have, August. I know how to ration out time to cause trouble and I think Obediah has caused enough trouble for tonight," he explained simply, his rare but stern tone making an appearance. He preferred to hold a casual tone and have everything be fun but he was an elder amongst the Society and he treated that role seriously.

"I don't mean to sound demanding or anything, sweetheart, I just know how this works. Perhaps tomorrow night we can head out and I could show you how to hunt without really hurt anyone. I know you learned not to drink from a drunk, not until you can stop from being as messy as you were," he reassured as he motioned lazily to the youngest vampire.

"Hey, maybe we could even go out on the town tomorrow night, make sure you have at least a little time alone as a new lovebird. I'm not heartless, I know you want to have another heated night with your dream boy."
 
"You don't need to patronise me. I'm well aware that I'm not good at this; it's partly why I came back, to get help. You don't need to openly embarrass me through your chastisement, Pat. Although I think you're a little hypocritical; you've killed people over the years. I should know; I'm the idiot you all made carry the bodies and bury them, if they weren't already torn cleanly apart," he reminded with a faint pout at what he thought was a telling off, feeling like a student being shouted at by their teacher. He understood that that was the case when it came to hunting and feeding; he was being taught how to do that appropriately without causing too much attention.

That didn't mean he had to like that dynamic. He struggled with it, openly so, though the fact he was at the Society was proof he wanted to get everything under control. Another incident like the one in the hotel room was something he desperately wanted to avoid, after all.

"I also don't think it's wise to bring my brother here, really; he's hardly going to relax in a home full of vampires, is he? But you do what you want. Neither of you can blame me if he ends up having a panic attack; he's prone to those when he's stressed. I imagine coming here would be very stressful."
 
"I never understood how one could face hysteria in stressful situations. Not to say I have the most level-head and yes, I have messed up even now. That being said, I do have more experience on fixing my own mess. You being here helps more than you think, granted," he admitted, smiling affectionately to the other man.

"He's a fragile one, really. As are you, Obediah, but in a different way. You both are emotional people, it's nice to see that. Not to say that the other members are heartless but it can be hard to keep a sense of humanity. That sounds so dramatic, doesn't it?" He drawled, laughing. "We're welcoming, aren't we?"
 
"Dramatic, but true. It's a miracle that they accepted Obediah when he first arrived. Four years without any of them attempting to kill you is a marvel, Obediah. I'm sure they can manage to do the same when Forrest comes for the night, assuming they'll be here. As I said, they'll all be at the dinner party. Your brother will only have to worry about three of us: I certainly won't hurt him, Pat won't, and neither will you. It's fine," confirmed August as comfortingly as he could. He understand the other's reservations, but that didn't mean he had to seriously worry about them himself. If he managed to stop himself from biting into Forrest and feeding from him during sex, he could certainly manage to get through an evening meal without giving into temptation.

In fact, the only emotion he was dealt with during the run-up to the dinner was excitement, going out of his way to ensure everything was perfect. He spent at least an hour alone on the table decorations, another few hours on Forrest's food, and the remainder of his time on himself, wanting to look as handsome as he could for his lover. Naturally, he wasn't content with a typical outfit, opting for a pair of almost iridescent emerald-coloured trousers from Italy and a white, flowing blouse he found cheap among the market-sellers. Only when he had poured a good hour into adjusting his outfit did he make an appearance back downstairs, growing more confident when the other members had indeed headed out for the evening - he didn't doubt that they'd behave themselves if they did stay, but Forrest would at least be more comfortable without them.

"You're fussing too much. My brother's not the Queen of England. If she was turning up tonight, then your ridiculous amounts of effort would be understandable--"

"He's a Crownfield, isn't he? That's near enough royalty," the vampire retorted to Obediah, rolling his eyes at the playful smile he was met with. "I don't think I should be shamed for making an effort for someone I dearly like. I want to show him that he means something to me. I'm a romantic person. I'm sure he'll at least appreciate it."
 
It was more than a bit difficult for Forrest to explain to his wife that he was visiting his brother and that it had to be just him, but he offered her a good wad of cash to treat herself and a quick kiss on her temple and it seemed to convince her enough. He wasn't very good at lying, the only time he ever could do it correctly was in front of his father's guests and even then he would often have to leave prematurely to calm himself down from a panic attack. He was proud of himself for not breaking the lie and apologizing and, after said wife picked a nice outfit for him, he headed into the light snow.

It didn't take much to find the society. If he was lost, he could easily just ask a passing citizen and they would point him in the direction under hushed breaths. Once finding the normal albeit huge building, he adjusted his fur coat anxiously before offering a knock.

Best case scenario, he'd have a lovely dinner with August and his brother. Worst case scenario, he would be the dinner. He was willing to risk it for his brother's sake at the least. He hesitated at first before knocking politely, pushing back all hesitation with an anxious smile. He knew he wasn't the best dressed compared to August but he did make an effort with the help of Isabelle.
 
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Obediah was the one to open the door, giving August time to fetch the chilled champagne for the human (and chilled blood for the vampires). All the nervousness he had had when waiting for his brother disappeared upon seeing him. He had feared that the other would be disapproving of his decision to move back to the Society with the men that had murdered their mother... though when Forrest had had sex with one of the said men just yesterday, Obediah figured that any criticisms might be a tad hypocritical.

"You came, then. I'm glad. I... worried you might have... decided against doing so. I won't say why, it's rather obvious, but you don't need to worry. Nobody's home tonight besides me, August and Pat. You'll be safe," he promised under his breath as he moved backward to let his brother into the lavishly-decorated home. "This is the Society, anyway. Where I've been the last few years-- the decor's a little... you know. It's very... August."
 
Taking in the over-the-top decor of the Society, Forrest stepped inside to escape the cold quicker than he expected. In comparison, the house was melting so he couldn't take his coat off quicker. Once shimmying it off and holding it on his arm, he dared to pull his brother into a hug with a wide smile.

"I do think this is the best place for you," he admitted, his own voice low. "I... I know I certainly am not the one to help you. That being said, that doesn't mean I won't try my best to help you when I can," he confirmed sternly before holding up his coat with a nervous smile. "So where can I put this? You said Pat is here, too? This... will be a strange dinner, but I'm certainly excited."
 
"Strange is the understatement of the century, Forrest. Even when I was human living here, we never had formal dinners like this. August would make me a meal and I'd eat it in my room with Padraig. This is... strange. But it'll be nice, won't it? The only other times I've had dinners at a table with other people was... well, back home when Mother and Father were alive, and they weren't the most enjoyable of evenings, were they?" He smiled, reaching to take his brother's coat from him to hang of the coat rack. "Pat's here too, yes. But really, he's on best behaviour, I promise. He might make a few awful jokes, but that's all he'll do, really--"

"Are you not bringing him through to the dining room? Honestly, Obediah! The champagne is getting warm," tutted August as he, impatiently, rushed from the dining room into the hall, smiling happily at the human. His instinct was to lean in for a welcoming kiss, but he withheld himself from doing so - he wasn't quite sure where they stood or what they were at the moment; it was easier waiting for Forrest to determine that. "Oh, you look fabulous, Forrest, you've clearly made an effort for me, hm~? Now, there's a soup for starters, a little recipe I picked up in Italy. I've prepared steak for main, I thought you might like a hearty meal like that. But first, there's champagne for you to drink; only the best for you, of course."
 
"Oh, why, thank you!" Forrest responded with a nervous laugh, taking in the sight of August with the same intrigue and curiosity he felt towards the house itself. It was all so strange yet exciting; a life he never thought he'd be able to experience at all, let alone as up close as he did. With a bashful smile, he curiously followed the vampire into the dining room with more curiosity, only to grow flustered at the praises.

"Oh, this really wasn't necessary," he insisted as he took a seat, scooting in his chair politely. "I was expecting just some wine and something light, no need for a full coarse meal, August. Thank you nonetheless, I've... never been treated this well before," he admitted before letting out a chuckle in shock.
 
"I... don't get to cook very often. Even when I did for Obediah, he survived off small meals, nothing extravagant. I wanted to test myself. Besides, this is the sort of food I'd love to eat if I could without getting sick; at least you can experience it all for me," he nodded, easing into his own chair and taking in the sight of the decorated table and the other's bowl of soup with an unsubtle proud smile. He wanted to at least be a little subtle when it came to his own meal for the evening, but there was no hiding the expensive glass jugs of the aristocratic blood. He figured that it might also help if Forrest became accustomed to that sort of thing, even if, preferably, he'd have eased him in slowly.

"...I suppose you handed Isabelle a wad of cash for the evening?" He questioned as he poured himself a glass, nodding for the other two vampires to do the same. "I... am sorry you had to lie to her, I can't imagine that's easy for you, but... well, let's be honest. You'd rather be with me. Sometimes lying is unavoidable in the pursuit of what the heart wants~"
 
"I-I... Yes, well, I suppose so. I gave her enough to buy herself a nice new hat to keep her warm and perhaps a nice coat," he explained, his eyes avoiding his brother as he spoke as his cheeks grew red. He hadn't really thoguht about the fact that Obediah might know about their blossoming relationship. It was okay for Obediah for love another man, it wasn't something he was told was right. For Obediah to know only caused him dread after all, and if he were to learn the truth, he most likely would pass out in embarrassment.

"I'm glad we can talk in more of a positive environment, Forrest," began Padraig as he leaned back in his chair once pouring himself a glass. "It's nice to speak to one another like men, over a pleasant dinner. It was nice to watch August try and cook you up this meal. If you didn't know, we can't really ingest human food. It's sweet - August, you should cook more often!"
 
"I'll certainly cook if I have an excuse to do so, and the only excuse I have at the moment is if Forrest takes it upon himself to visit me. I'm sure you will, won't you? If only to visit your brother, though I'd selfishly like to think you'd also visit for me-- they are aware of how much I like you, Forrest. Don't be nervous or anxious," the vampire smiled, catching onto the other's panic easily. He had anticipated it throughout the evening for whatever reason, but to witness it so early on was a tad unexpected, hence his abrupt change in conversation in order to tackle it. The sooner the anxiety was quashed, the sooner they could move on and enjoy the night.

"...Isabelle's horrid, I'm far more supportive of you pursuing something with August. You shouldn't be ashamed to admit that to me. We're brothers, aren't we? I'd like you to tell me what goes on in your life, and if that's talk of a romantic interest with one of my best friends, I'm wholly supportive of that. I'm not likely to be the person to disagree with you developing feelings for a man, am I? I'm no hypocrite, Forrest," reminded Obediah from his chair, licking the blood from his lips as subtly as possible. "...Anyway, I'm glad you came here tonight. August founded this place himself decades ago--"

"...Yes, let's not remind him how old I am. It's rather embarrassing, actually. I'm not as old as Padraig, of course. He's the oldest in our Society-- though I'm still the head of the place. Technically, he's under my orders should I desire to order him about."
 
"You wouldn't dare," Pat drawled in response, his nose wrinkling in emphasis at the mention of his role. "I'm not some little servant to be ordered around. It's an honor for you to have me in your Society, August. That being said; yes, I am the oldest."

"Decades..." replied Forrest, locking on that comment in shock. Taking a careful sip of the soup to give him time to think, he inevitably offered a smile. "That's... insane. I can't believe you've been alive for so long and you look so... young. Is that what's going to happen to you, Obediah? You never age? That... is so strange to me. As for... as for Isabelle and I, That is something I would prefer to speak to August about alone."
 
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