The Sangruis Society

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"The eternal, immortal thing was why I decided to do this, Forrest. It took me four years to decide, but eventually, I had to. Or I'd grow old and... die, and miss out on spending decades upon decades with someone I loved; with the family I made here at the Society. I know it's a lot to take in, I... completely understand how... overwhelming it is," his brother quickly nodded, pressing his palms against the table and breathing quietly in an attempt to control how uncomfortable he was with the conversation. He wanted to speak honestly with him, get to a point where, as brothers, nothing remained hidden, but the topic of his vampirism still made him uncomfortable, as if talking about it with Forrest threatened the potential of a proper brotherly bond. He knew that was probably his paranoia at work, but he couldn't help that.

August, meanwhile, wasn't one to hold back. While he wanted to ease Forrest in slowly, he simultaneously didn't want to hold back on the details, deciding that honesty was the best policy now the romance between them had actually begun.

"I'm over a century old, actually. Probably a little more than that, I can't quite recall. Unlike Obediah, I didn't have a choice. I was dragged into the alley when I was a human, one who was verging on homelessness in fact, and turned there and then. I suppose I'd have been drained dry, but the vampire got spooked and fled. I didn't have a family growing up so I created myself one, recruited men who wanted immortality and... who believed in my vision here. Really, it's not some murderous little club, Forrest," smiled August, tapping his nails against the table as he reached for the champagne to concoct his favourite cocktail, mixing it easily with the rich blood in his glass. "Your brother may be the only member to join for a few decades; we don't recruit that often. I suppose that only encourages the secretive reputation we have-- you'll find that the Society is on most people's lips. Most are eager to join, not knowing what we are, just to get a glimpse of what happens behind our doors. It's very amusing, really. You're one of the privileged few who know about us and isn't a member."
 
"A century old?!" He blurted in shock only to clear his throat and quickly clean his lips when he realized he spit out a bit of it. Coughing hard, he reached for the wine and took a hearty sip. "I guess I just... I didn't expect that. I don't mean to seem rude but this is a lot to take in, I feel nauseous," he admitted, though remained his seat.

"Take a deep breath, it's a lot to take in," Padraig reassured, sitting up in his seat when noticing Forrest's heartbeat increase. When Forrest gave a side-glance, he only sat up more. "I know it's a lot to take in, really, but we're here for you. You may not trust me but you can trust your brother."
 
"Would you have preferred I lie to you? Because I think I've done quite enough lying to you, Forrest. I'm respecting you enough to be upfront, and... as hard as that is for you, I think that's the best way to be, isn't it? Now eat your soup. I worked hard on crushing all those tomatoes-- hell, do you know how difficult it was to find good quality tomatoes given the season we're in? Please don't put all my good work to waste; I don't work hard for just anyone, you know," the vampire teased playfully as he nodded to the soup remaining in the bowl, resting his head on his hand as he nudged the bread basket closer to him in an unsubtle attempt to have him eat up as much as he wanted to. He realised he had probably gone overboard with the portions too, but he wasn't in the habit of cooking for anyone - this was as new for him as it was for Forrest to be sat amongst vampires.

"...I do like what you're wearing," he murmured in an attempt to change the topic, glancing the other over with a growing smile. "That fur coat of yours is to die for. I may have to borrow it from you at some point, actually. You can take what you want from my wardrobe in return, though I doubt my clothes are to your taste. Nobody shares my enthusiasm for fashion in this house, it's so disappointing."
 
Once again turning red in embarrassment, he did obediently drink more of the soup. He didn't want to be disrespectful, especially when it was clear that everyone had gone so out of their way for him. Taking a piece of bread as well, he dipped it into the soup, nibbling in it. To be the only person eating felt foriegn to him.

"Oh, thank you. It was given as a gift and I know you appreciate fashion, so... I got some assistance. I didn't really know what else to wear so I wore my favorite suit, so... I'm glad to at least impress you a little," he admitted with a nervous laugh, his hands shyly cuddling with the bow tie. "It's not like what I wore the other night, so I hope this is nice enough."
 
"Oh hush, what you were wearing the other night was perfectly fine. You've seen me in my nightgown at your country estate; it was only right that I see you in your nightwear too. Though I'll admit, however cute your pyjamas were, I much preferred what was underneath them--"

"How's the soup? Is it nice? It's... an Italian recipe, I think. That's what August said," interjected Obediah quickly, his forced smile indicative of how little he wanted to hear the unsubtle remarks. He didn't mind a little light flirtation, but August was never one to flirt lightly. Obediah knew that, and he probably should have braced himself for the inevitability of them, but it still caught him by surprise and made him flustered nonetheless. Apparently, growing flustered was something than ran in their family's genes - if he could blush, he would be doing so just like his brother was. "A-Anyway, ah-- you do look rather snazzy, brother. It makes a nice change for you. August often comes home at night with bags of shopping from his little clothing hauls; he goes to Paris every Spring for that reason alone. Speaking of, he wanted to invite you to go with us in the Springtime, if you can manage that? I imagine you'll be in some high-flying job by then, but... try and come along with us. It'd be nice to get you out the country, experience more of the world."
 
"Me? In Paris? I-I... I never would imagine I would even get the offer," he admitted with wide eyes, the genuine shock being clear. He had gone to Italy once with his father and that was the only real interaction he had outside of England, so the idea of going to Paris with the vampires was mind-boggling. "Well, I would need some time to prepare. I would need to make sure everything was alright here, in the estate and whatnot. I would need to collect the proper clothes and... and make sure everyone is alright. I never really expected it, to be honest-"

"Oh, loosen up, will you? It's just a quick trip. Ideally, I'd love to bring you all on a lovely cruise with my old crew but I know Obediah absolutely detests the idea of, perhaps, sailing to America. It would be a lovely couple's retreat, don't you?" He offered, his brows raised. "It would be nice, but that's a few months."
 
"I hate the idea of sailing, full stop. I detest the sail to France, and that's not even that long in the grand scheme of things. I'm not a sailor, and I never will be. I'm not stopping you from meeting up with your crew, Pat. You know I'll be here for you whenever you decide to come back to land," the youngest vampire murmured under his breath. Now wasn't the time to get into a serious discussion about the other's need and want to get back on the sea with his crew, though it was a discussion they needed to have at some point - Obediah knew that he wouldn't be convinced to ever join him on the sea, and so, a serious conversation had to be had at some point to emphasise that.

Naturally, at a dinner party with his brother present probably wasn't the time to get into a lovers' quarrel.

"The offer's extended to you, of course. It won't be until March or thereabouts, so try to get organised the month before then. I'll remind you, if you want and if you're eager-- I'd certainly love you to be there. I need someone at my side who won't embarrass me in front of my fashion friends, and who might be eager to learn a thing or two," smiled August, reaching to take his hand-- though he stopped himself and sat back in his chair. He had the feeling that Forrest would only get uncomfortable with their romance being broadcast in front of the others. Even though everyone in the room knew about it, making it obvious with tender hand-holding might be a step too far for the human currently, and August wasn't prepared to push his luck. "...Paris is wonderful, you'd adore it, I'm sure. I visit every year, when I can. For clothes and perfumes and whatnot; a little change in scenery is always nice, too."
 
"You're right, new scenery is definitely in my best interest," Forrest admitted, his hands fiddling with themselves when their hands missed. "London has a big change for me as is, though I suppose everything has been a big change. For starters, I was surprised to see Obediah whatsoever after years of distance, not to mention he's... you know, a vampire. Now I'm in London discussing the possibility of going to France or event America. It's not what I was expecting but I like it," he explained, finishing up his soup quickly after his words as he ignored Padraig's minor annoyance.

"I trust you to know what you're talking about, but I can assure you I wouldn't embarrass you. I mean, I don't know much about fashion but I would love to explore it. If it comes to it, I just... won't talk. I've learned that it's the best way to deal with situations, you know? Keeping quiet just seems to work out, it has been brilliant during my father's old meetings."
 
"Oh no, I encourage you to ask questions if you feel the urge to! I'd love you to develop an appreciation of fashion; it'd be a nice mutual interest between us. What I can't abide is silly little jokes that make my friends wary, as Pat tends to do. Neither will I appreciate absurd observations that have nothing to do with fashion - your brother tends to daydream and blurt out whatever's in his head, which doesn't go down well in when we're amongst the cream of the crop in Paris' social scene, hm? I know you won't embarrass me like they do," he promised as he offered a quick, subtle wink, taking in the sight of the empty bowl in delight. It was his cue to excuse himself to the kitchen for the second course, leaving Obediah rolling his eyes at the slight chastisement he had endured. It was all playful, he knew that, but he wanted his brother to think he had matured. Being told that he still exhibited the day-dream quality he had always had tended to contradict that.

"...The steak is good quality, I'm sure you'll like that. I loved steak when I was... you know, capable of eating without getting sick," he smiled, glancing to the kitchen to ensure the other was busy. Without August, he felt free to embark on a conversation that might make his brother uncomfortable, but needed to be said. "I'd like to... talk to you about mother's belongings. August forbade me from mentioning it, he wanted you to be comfortable tonight, but... I need to get it off my chest. I... want some of the inheritance. I think I deserve half-- or a quarter, at the very least. I... won't be greedy by demanding too much, but I feel entitled to a little of it. I... was her son too. And father's."
 
"Oh... oh! Yes, of course!" Forrest replies without hesitation, frock the reliever sigh of Padraig as he watched the two curiously. The vampire had no use for money at this point can if he was really strapped for cash, he could just hypnotize some wandering drunk and snatch the cash then and there. He knew that the inheritance meant more than it just being money for Obediah, hence his concern. He didn't really know what to expect in the case of Forrest so he was at least pleased to know it was all good.

"Yes, of course. You do deserve some of Mother's inheritance at the very least. You were her favorite, after all." He murmured, his smile bittersweet. "Besides, I have our Father's, it's enough to line my pockets enough. Just... I have some of the money back in my hotel room, in fact."
 
"I wasn't her favourite; Mother had no favourites," he attempted weakly in an attempt to save his brother from growing too upset, even though they both knew the truth. Obediah was the baby of the family and his mother had often referred to him as her 'miracle', even going as far as to call her her little 'angel' who was sent to her. He had spent his entire childhood glued to her side, and it was only natural that she felt more protective of him as a result of his gentle nature than she did her other children. His attempt to say otherwise was commendable, but even he was aware that the truth was well known at this point.

"Father loved you, though. He hated me and our sisters, but he loved you dearly. As horrid as he was, he... did love you, Forrest. At least you have that," he smiled as he fiddled with the tablecloth, forcing himself not to ask about the amount of money his father had left behind. He had no doubt that his father owed far, far more than his mother, and while he felt entitled to take at least half, guilt set in.

Forrest had a wife who expected to live the high life and that wasn't cheap. He, meanwhile, had no real need for money - squeezing his brother out of his funds suddenly felt wrong and he let the guilt flood his face instantly

"Forget the money. You keep it all. I... just want some of mother's things. Her books, her knitting, those cute collectable dolls she had. I don't need money. You do."
 
"I'd rather not have this conversation in front of your friend, Obediah." Forrest responded quietly with a forced smile. When he couldn't hold back his upset, he dropped the smile and held his forehead in exhaustion. Bringing up his father always made him ill nowadays and that wasn't good given how often he seemed to have to talk about it. Giving Padraig a fearful glance, he sat up in his chair.

"I wasn't our father's favorite, he didn't love me. He didn't love any of us, and sometimes I wonder if he ever loved our mother. He only gave me the small fraction of the respect I was given because I was the only heir. If I hadn't been born and you were instead, he would have been kinder to you. It was all about power and continuing our 'legacy', it had nothing to do with love." He firmly declared, his expression stoic as he took in his brother beside him. Very rarely was he a strict person and preferred to take the path of least resistance. One exception to that rule was the discussion of his father.
 
If their father was the topic that angered his brother, having his relationship downgraded to mere 'friendship' was one that irked Obediah, understandably. He had to constantly downplay his relationship when out in public, pretend that he and Padraig were nothing more than good friends. Just because he understood why he had to pretend didn't mean he liked it. In fact, it naturally infuriated him: all he wanted was to be open with Pat and not hide how he felt

Having his own brother reference Padraig as a mere 'friend' was the one thing that could trigger Obediah's often uncharacteristic anger, his fists clenched before he could stop himself.

"In front of my friend? Don't... how can you remain so ignorant of how much I love him? He's my boyfriend, Forrest. My lover. He's not just a friend. I don't... have to hide how much I care for him when I'm here. I won't have you downgrading my relationship so casually, understand? I won't bring up Father; you won't make the mistake of disregarding my relationship so flippantly. I think that's fair."
 
"Oh, Christ almighty..." he sighed, his hand now pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache started to form. His eyes even began to water as his anxiety began to accumulate finally. He had expected to have a panic attack once getting back to the hotel but it was evident by his shallow breathing and his refusal to make eye contact was proof of his growing nerves.

"Obediah, I... I didn't - I didn't mean it that way. I just - this is a lot to take in, if you haven't noticed," he explained with a nervous laugh, his fingers anxiously tapping against the table. He then pushed to his feet and quickly observed the room, only to realize the only semblance of a window was the front door. It made sense, what with vampires being sensitive to sunlight and all. Pushing past, he headed straight for the cold to at least try and get some fresh air to stop himself from escalating his panic attack.

"... he's so sensitive, it's annoying," admitted Pat in hushed tones as he watched the man get up and step away. "Has he always been like this? It's a hassle to deal with, better yet it's a hassle for August to deal with," he drawled, watching in curiosity as he heard the front door open.
 
"You do realise that I'm just as sensitive as he is? It's probably a result of our childhood, I suppose. I'm not a psychologist, I couldn't tell you why we both have issues. Though it would be interesting to find out why I'm the way I am. You said it yourself when we met that you've never met someone as reserved and gentle as me. Forrest has issues as do I. I probably shouldn't jump down his throat, but it's my trigger; having people downplay what you mean to me. I'll apologise later. I still think I'm in the right to defend my relationship, but...I forget I'm intimidating to him now," he sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand as he unsubtly took in his boyfriend, taking advantage of the empty room that they had to themselves for the time being.

The only thing that prevented him initiating a kiss was August's reappearance, the vampire frowning as he set down the main course in front of a now empty space. He gathered that the human was getting some air, though the fact he felt he had to didn't sit well with August, who sat down with a forced smile.

"...This is probably all too overwhelming for him. I forget what it was like being human; being so worried about my own mortality and the dangers to it. He's scared for his life, isn't he? Being around us-- this was a bad idea. He clearly isn't ready to be around... us; around me."
 
Padraig was more than happy to kiss Obediah, feeling that lack of touch becoming overwhelming. It could be considered a bit obsessive to some, how much he relied on Obediah being by his side, but that was psychology that he didn't want to talk about. While he couldn't get a kiss, he did at least manage to brush his fingers across the new vampire's cheek affectionately.

As for the 'friend' comment, he chose to keep quiet on it. On one hand, it infuriated him just as much as it did Obediah. On the other hand , he knew just how foreign their relationship was to others and while he didn't know much about Forrest, he knew he had no malice when he said 'friend'. He didn't need to think about that when August appeared, causing him to groan bitterly when their quality time was cut short.

"Isn't this the perfect time to swoop in and comfort him?" Pat suggested, his hands dropping to his side with a grimace. "Don't blame yourself, the kid has issues. All the Crownfield men do, apparently," he noted, offering a wink and a light nudge to tease Obediah.
 
"No, because then I'd be taken advantage and I don't feel comfortable. I'd rather let him calm down and come back when he's feeling ready to. I won't lie and pretend this isn't mildly irritating after the hard work I put into his meal, now it's sitting there getting cold, but I also can't be angry. It's not confusing that he's so overwhelmed, is it? This isn't a normal situation," he remarked with a smile, ignoring the plate of food -the sight only irked him further- and, instead, moved to top up his glass of blood with some more champagne. Adding more would risk him getting sick, but he felt he needed something to take his mind off how badly the night was going, and champagne certainly did the trick.

"It's not easy, Pat. Just because you lucked out finding someone who was eager to be involved in our world doesn't mean Forrest will be. It might take years before he's even comfortable recognising me as a vampire and using the word without grimacing. Hell, I'd love to tell him about my life, but I can't do that without differentiating between me as a human and me now, and god knows he'll just get flustered over it," he groaned, resting his head on his hand as he ran a finger along the rim of the glass, his forced smile finally breaking into a frown. "I like him, I just-- wish he'd relax. I can't force him to, it's entirely down to him and I respect that, but it's... I'm not patient, I can't wait years just for him to be comfortable around me. It's a waste of both of our time."
 
"I'm just saying, there are plenty of ways to make this all move along faster-"

"I apologize about that," came Forrest's voice as he stepped into the dining room, an apologetic smile on his lips. He always felt he was to blame for his panic attacks and he always regretted them afterwards, that feeling only grew more intense when he spotted how annoy the three looked. Once taking a seat, he took in the roast with an impressed nod, hesitating to make the first cut.

"This looks delicious, August, really. I'm... sorry to have caused a ruckus, it was rude. I feel embarrassed, in all honesty. Now to have all this meat to myself? I'm truly spoiled," he continued quietly, deciding to rationalize that the whole reason the others weren't eating wasn't because they couldn't, but rather that they simply weren't hungry. It was a lie and he knew that but it made him feel a little less out of place.
 
"...You don't need to apologise, not at all. I just want you to enjoy the evening, Forrest. I understand this is all difficult for you to take in, but we're friends and this is simply a nice evening meal; it's perfectly normal, aside from my... affliction," he smiled politely, doing his best not to be too unsubtle about his vampirism. He wanted to be up and honest about it all, feeling that that method would help normalise it all to Forrest. Clearly, the human disagreed, so if he had to be subtle, he would.

So much so that he decided the blood on the table was only going to do more harm than good, so he quietly retrieved the glasses despite Obediah's protest to carry them to the kitchen, leaving the youngest in the room scowling irritably.

"You are aware that I have to go hungry for the next hour because August is trying his hardest to appeal to you and accommodate your wants and needs, aren't you?" He murmured to his brother, already feeling his throat burn now he knew he would be deprived of blood for an hour. He could sneak off to the kitchen, but he had the impression August wouldn't tolerate that. "...He likes you immensely, Pat said he's never put so much effort in for anyone for decades. I want this to work for you, but you need to compromise a little. He's a vampire. Ignoring that isn't going to help you or this blossoming romance, brother."
 
"Do not blame me for a condition it brought upon yourself, brother." He countered with a grimace at the mention of his hunger. Continuing to cut into the meal - which he noted to be genuinely delicious - he set down the silverware.

"I appreciate what he's doing and I don't know how to repay him," he admitted, dabbing his lips. "This is so much, I... feel obligated to give August something in return. I can't invite him to dinner because that would just end miserably. As for our relationship, you don't need to pretend to understand my situation just as I won't pretend to know yours. I do plan to.., perhaps let Isabelle go, but I need time. You all live forever, don't you? A... a few months won't be the end of the world."
 
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