The Sangruis Society

"Oh, hush. You're a busy man, Forrest, you always have worked hard. It's nothing new to me. I know you love me so you working so hard and not being around as much doesn't sadden me. I'm proud of you; I know you're working for us and our future. A little time with you would be nice, but I'm well aware that you have plenty to sort out in London. We need a house and you need a job - and while you don't want to pay the elites attention, it's important we mingle with them," she pointed out with a wise smile, brushing her hair from her face with a flustered giggle at being paced down onto the bed. She had never experienced anything overly passionate or lust-fuelled in her relationship, but she didn't feel she needed that - she believed her husband loved her and that was all she felt she could ask for.

"The opera tomorrow night would be nice, though," she admitted as she calmly stood up and wandered to the bathroom to dress into her nightgown, slowly undoing the various strings at the back of the dress she had on. It wasn't an easy job, especially without the handmaids she was used to helping her, but she could just about manage without pestering her husband. "I know you said you're busy tomorrow night, but you also said we could catch an early showing. That would be wonderful, actually. I've never been to an opera before. We never had a chance in the countryside-- I'm only now realising how utterly mundane our lives were there."
 
"Yes, well, I do miss our 'mundane' life to an extent. The streets here are abhorrent and the people make me nervous, but... let me just assure you that I don't intend to live here permanently. I do agree that soaking up the culture would be nice and I'm more than happy to stay away if it means it will heal the wounds of my parents' passing. Perhaps it could be a summer home, or a place for vacation - I just don't want you to get in your head that this is our permanent household," he reminded quietly as he adjusted the buttons on his own nightgown.

"The matinee will be just as enjoyable as a night showing, I promise. I know I don't have to say this but don't forget to look fabulous. If we want to make a noise Around town, it's the least we could do - look like how our parents would want us to. I can flash my brand new coat to the world - the colors will contrast how gloomy it is out these days."
 
The woman's lips pursed at the sudden news, finding it made her more miserable than she perhaps thought it would. The last thing she wanted was to return to the country home, even though it had been somewhere she had adored being until recently. Now she had had a taste of London, she wanted nothing more than to remain in the city permanently, engaging with society and working on her writing desires. Going back home had its advantages, being the lady of the house with staff to help take care of her every need, but a part of her was enjoying the independence away from the maids and cooks that did everything for her. She had always been pampered, and while she knew she'd always be prone to that, she was liking being away from it.

But she couldn't stay without her husband at her side, and she knew that, which is why she reluctantly mumbled in agreement as she returned to the bedroom.

"What happened to your wrist?" She asked quietly, her brows furrowed in confusion as she set the candle down at the bedside table. "It looks heavily bandaged-- did something happen?"
 
"I-Oh, Ah - yes, I-I... was... I was bit by a cat on the way here..." he explained meekly, his voice cracking as he stammered out his answer, his cheeks growing beetroot in embarrassment as he tugged the sleeve of his nightgown further to hide the bandages.

"I should be fine, Obediah's friend is an established doctor," he continued, the fact that he lied effortlessly shocking himself. Hopping onto the bed, he continued to fiddle with the sleeve with a smile. "Don't worry, dear. What matters is that we stay more safe out at night, I couldn't live with myself if you were hurt by some pesky stray."
 
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"Are you sure? I don't want you getting an infection from a stray cat, Forrest. Besides, I don't think Obediah's friend can be trusted, do you? Or your brother wouldn't have arrived to us in the state he was in. I only assume he's staying with that doctor friend now, given how ill he was last night," she murmured with a tutting noise, combing her fingers through her long hair before sliding into bed beside him, finally allowing herself to relax a little after the spike of panic she was hit with at her husband's bandaged wrist. That relaxation only last mere seconds before she was hit with something she had been meaning to inform him of, turning to glance at him with wide eyes.

"Oh, that does remind me, you saying you were bit-- some awful man attempted to bite me tonight," she huffed, absently rubbing her neck at the memory. "Poor man appeared sick, he was awfully pale. I managed to get away, thank the Lord, but it was terribly frightening. He was drunk, I suppose. London is... wonderful, but goodness, it's rather scary too."
 
"You're okay, right?! You don't feel ill yourself, do you?!" He quickly questioned in sudden panic, sitting up in bed almost instantly as he carefully took her cheek, making sure to be gentle as he inspected her neck and shoulders. A deep sigh of relief escaped once he noticed nothing unusual and offered her a peck to the forehead, holding her close. Was it an overreaction? Perhaps, but while he didn't feel much for Isabelle on a sexual and romantic level, the woman was easily her best friend and he cared about her wellbeing more than his own brother.

"Don't... I don't think you should go out at night unattended," he firmly declared, his brows knit in concern. "Please, for my sake. You may do whatever you like in the daytime, just... please don't go outside alone. If something were to happen, I... I would end my life, easily."
 
The sudden concern wouldn't ordinarily surprise her, not when she herself had been frightened by what she had experienced, but the sheer extent of his worry was striking and, evident from her arched brow, confusing. She found it sweet but she also found it a tad dramatic, though her naivety and obliviousness to the 'savage' vampires that roamed the streets at night explained that.

"Forrest, sweetheart, don't be so dramatic. The poor man was probably a drunkard, London is rather full of them, what with all these pubs and taverns and whatnot. Really, calm down. I'm absolutely fine. I whacked him with my bags and headed straight to the hotel," she smiled, reaching to take his face in her hand to try and ease him a little, overcome by the sheer extent of his worry.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't want to go out at night alone anyway. The city is still overwhelming and, at night, it scares me, I'll admit that. I promise not to head out alone, alright? Now relax - honestly! I know you worry about me, but I defended myself rather well. I was proud of myself, actually. He was an awfully large man, he could really have hurt me, and yet here I am, unharmed. A little shaken, but otherwise unaffected - so have some faith in me at least."
 
"I'm... just being over dramatic, I'm sorry," he admitted after a long pause, his lips pursed warily. Offering a careful kiss to her forehead, he moved to lay back a t ad, reaching over to blow out the candle on his side. He didn't really want to actually sleep, his mind now racing from the day.

He didn't want to have a panic attack again, one was enough for a day, but it was hard not to as he laid beside his wife. He cared deeply for her but he wanted something more, which was where August came in. He didn't want to hurt her and he didn't want her to lose her status and subsequently her happiness, but how do you approach your wife about the whole thing? He wasn't a great liar and he certainly didn't want to become a good one.

"We'll have fun in the morning, we won't have to worry about all of this," he reassured after some time passed, turning his head to face the other with a shy smile, even though it couldn't be seen.
 
Isabelle wasn't entirely convinced that his reaction was purely a result of his worried nature and the stress he was under, but she knew better than to call him out on it. He had a tendency of clamming up and keeping things to himself, and she didn't want him to grow even more reserved when she was enjoying the honesty she felt she was getting from him on most days, unaware that most of what he was telling her lately was a bunch of lies Instead of talking further to him, she returned the quick kiss, murmured to him a goodnight, and shut her eyes for sleep.

Unbeknown to her and, evidently, to Forrest, the vampire that had attacked her hadn't done so randomly; it wasn't a chance encounter by a savage vampires looking for a quick meal. In fact, the vampire hadn't been a savage at all. He had donned cheap clothes and roughed himself up a little, but that was purely to avoid the association Forrest would make to the Society if Isabelle had told him that she had been approached by someone of a higher status.

That said, August hadn't employed one member of his Society to attack Isabelle. After the conversation with Padraig, he had decided to take his advice and have one of their friends in the Society charm Isabelle. It didn't matter if it was a vampire - he had specifically told the man not to harm Isabelle, simply to charm her and gain her affection to lead up to the break-up of her marriage.

As morning approached, with the friend having yet to return to the Society, August was nervously pacing in the living room, watching as the sky lightened and the sun threatening to break through them at any moment. He held his favourite silk gown closer, carefully taking the blood offered to him by Obediah who was watching on from the armchair.

"...I'm sure Percival is fine, August. I'm sure he did his job and charmed Isabelle wonderfully. He probably left her and went to that dinner party the others were at last night--"

"It's almost morning. He'll be burnt to a crisp, Obediah. This was a dreadful idea. What if he killed Isabelle and-- and he's afraid to return in case I'm mad at him? I'll be furious, of course. I want her gone, but Forrest will mourn her and... he might not want to be with me and... god, this was a dreadful idea, Padraig. It's your fault for suggesting Percival. He's an utter moron. Nice as pie, but utterly stupid."
 
"Relax, August. He's not the brightest fellow but he knows where he can go when he's stuck in the sunlight. As for Isabelle, Percival couldn't hurt a bloody fly, he's never been the type to make a mess of things. Put more trust in your friends, " Padraig drawled in response as he watched August pace, forcing back the urge to chuckle at his concern. August was always the type to be confident and calm so to see him freaking out both amused him and, in a sense, made him worry.

Luckily for them, Percival did push in just in time, going as far as to help when a bit of sun had hit his exposed ankle. Closing the door behind him quickly, he adjusted the far from flattering outfit, grimacing as he took himself in the mirror.

"So, good news and bad news," he began with a laugh. "Good news is that Isabelle is safe but scared, bad news is that I obviously couldn't charm her while looking like this. I need more time." He started simply with a nervous smile to the others.

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Obediah attempted to motion for his friend to stop talking, waving his hand helplessly behind August's back, though gave up on the signalling when it became clear that the other had said enough to both catch August's attention... and evidently anger him. August was the Society's founder and, therefore, seen as the leader. He didn't treat himself as such, much preferring his other members to think of him as an older brother who wanted to look out for them all, but there were inevitably times when he needed to emphasise his superiority... and now was one of those times. He had given explicit instructions and chosen Percival specifically for the job. Feeling like he hadn't done what he had asked was infuriating, and it took him a few minutes to regain his composure.

"...Why would she be scared, Percival? I thought I asked you to charm the woman? You could do that in whatever clothes you wore. I asked you to wear commoner's clothing to avoid suspicion from Forrest. He's smart; he might guess that I had a friend charm his wife. I needed you to look different from everyone who is here. That shouldn't have prevented you from charming her. You'e still handsome," he began calmly, though the fact he downed his blood in one go and his fists promptly tightened as a bad sign. "I do hope you didn't deviate from my words of advice, Percival. What exactly did you do? Corner her? Feed from her?"
 
"No, I.... there must have been some miscommunication here, mate, because I figured that you wanted me to scare her a bit and then change quickly and pretend to be someone else to charm her and protect her. I didn't have enough time because she whacked me pretty hard with her purse, I wasn't expecting it," he replied, his smile wavering as his eyes darted back to Obediah. Swallowing hard once realizing just how much he had messed up, he put his hands up in defense.

"I can fix this, really! You're seeing Forrest tonight, right? Just convince him to get Isabelle out again and I'll, ah... come up with another idea. I promise I didn't feed from her whatsoever, though I'm super peckish, aha... this is fine, August, don't bust a vein."
 
"Oh, no, you've effectively ruined everything. See, she'll be too scared to be alone and Forrest, as her husband, will want to comfort her and ensure that she's safe. Ultimately, he'll spend more time with her and I'll be missing out on the affection I not only desire, but deserve after being so goddamn patient. It's my fault for agreeing to send you in. You mess everything up. I chose you because you're handsome and charming. I should have taken into account how idiotic you can be, Percival--"

"...I'm sure he can fix things, August. He deserves another chance, doesn't he? Everyone deserves a second chance," reminded Obediah quietly, uncomfortable sitting to the side and watching August lose his temper, and Percival taking it all without anyone attempting to help him out. It wasn't his place to intervene, especially when Percival seemed to be in the wrong, but he was as sympathetic now as he had been when he was human. He cared for everyone in the Society, so standing up for him came naturally, especially when August was unnecessarily mean.

"Isabelle is... isn't difficult to charm. I'm sure he'll manage. Just let him at least look half-decent this time. You barely gave him a chance when he was dressed like a drunkard," he continued with a smile over to Percival. "Forrest is out tonight. You have a chance to work things out, I'm sure you won't mess up again."

"Fine. Fine, one more chance. If you fail again, I'll have Oliver take over." August relented, letting his anger fade, reaching out to carefully wipe a little dust from Percival's shoulder. "I... apologise. But this is important to me, Percival. Take it seriously, please. Just get that horrid woman to warm to you and make yourself more appealing to her than her husband, okay?"
 
"Listen, you know I've made mistakes in the past but I always fixed them eventually, right?" Percival reminded, almost immediately relaxing once he noticed August letting up. In response, he flashed his notoriously charming smile and stepped back to tug off the coat. He wasn't as fashion-forward as August but he did appreciate a nice outfit, and this was not it.

"Look, we all know it isn't hard for me to charm a lady, and I have no problem doing so if it's a beautiful one. Evidently, your brother has a good choice in women, Obediah," he commented, sighing in content once he was out of the frumpy coat and happy to unbutton the wrinkled button up to expose the tank top sort of shirt underneath. "She's feisty, too, which is a nice quality. Being the only one amongst us that is happy to dedicate me to a woman only, it's not like there's a real restriction on choices, huh?" He noted with a wink to the others.

"Yes, yes, we all get it; Isabelle is beautiful, blah blah blah. Of course, she would be, I figure that Obediah and Forrest's father wasn't one to fall in love with 'inner beauty', I'm sure he wanted only the prettiest girl for his son," Padraig drawled in response as he motioned Obediah to his side as he sat on the couch. "I think this could go severely wrong but I trust you, Percival. I don't know how, but you always seem to fix your mistakes. I just wish you did it right in the first place."
 
"This was partly your idea, Padraig. And it won't go wrong. Isabelle isn't receiving any affection from my brother. At least not the affection I know she expects from a husband. All Percy has to do is charm her and compliment her, and she'll fall for it. With Forrest's absences, she'll turn to anyone who's offering her their undivided attention. It's not even that cruel of a plan when my brother has already betrayed her-- so to speak," smiled Obediah, obediently resting on the arm of the chair beside his boyfriend and leaning in to wrap his arms loosely around his shoulders. The distrust he and August now appeared to have was disappointing.

He had been in the Society for four years now and had always witnessed the members sticking together like glue, having one another's backs and displaying the utmost trust in one another. It was true that Percival wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was a part of the family nonetheless, and, as far as Obediah was concerned, deserved to be trusted if he said that he could fix things.

Right now, Obediah felt like he was the only one who had his back.

"...I believe in you, Percy. You'll be wonderful," he promised with a polite smile, ignoring the soft grunt August gave. "How about I head upstairs and help you with an outfit for tonight? I know what Isabelle admires in a man when it comes to apparel."
 
"Well, that would be fantastic!" Eagerly replied Percival, his hands on his hips. He had always been dangerously optimistic, which often led to some trouble on his end. It didn't matter much, though, as he would simply laugh it off and find a way to fix everything, as he planned with his current mission.

"You've got quite the style yourself, Obediah. It doesn't quite compare to August but you're at least number 3 in the best dressed folks around here. I'd like to think I'm second," He praised himself before offering Padraig a nod, not to much upset by his roll of eye. As long as one person was willing to believe in him, what did it matter what the others though?
 
"Oh, that's a compliment. The third best dressed in the Sangruis Society... I'm almost tempted to put it on a certificate, frame it and hang it up over the fireplace. Hear that, Pat? I'm the third best dressed," the new vampire beamed proudly, taking the compliment the moment it was given and forcing himself to remember it - it would be a good thing to boast about to the other members who were, apparently, not as well dressed as he was, according to Percival.

With a quick kiss to his boyfriend, and a hushed apology for leaving their comfortable position on the couch, he headed eagerly up the stairs after Percival. Only when he reached his bedroom did he allow himself to consider talking openly with him, having neglected to do so in front of August. He knew he detested Isabelle, so asking for details about Percy's first impression of her was only asking for trouble - he doubted August wanted to hear any compliments about the woman that was keeping Forrest from him, after all.

"...So, Isabelle then... She hit you with her purse?" He grinned, taking a careful seat on the unmade bed. "She is rather... feisty, I suppose that's the word. It's why Forrest and her match so well. If anything, they're great friends. It's a shame they were forced into this marriage. Without the strain of it, I'm sure they'd get along well as friends."
 
"Oh, yeah, she's a true fire cracker, huh?" He replied easily, his finger taping his lips in contemplation. "She isn't too ugly either, of course, which is also a plus. Look, I'm really not worried about it all, you know? If August really has this man wrapped around his finger, I feel a bit bad for her, yeah? I don't know what I'd do if I learned my wife was cheating on me, especially with another woman."

Taking a seat on the bed, he eased back on his hands to take in the bedroom. What he said wasn't meant with an ounce of malice, in reference to the possibility of a same-sex relationship, he really only experienced it for the first time upon joining the Society and while in his former life, he would most likely be uncomfortable by it... he was a vampire now, so two men or two women being with one another was far from the strangest thing he's ever experienced.

"If I'm going to get in her good books, I need to look fantastic. I know August is mad at me so I can't ask help from him but you know a good amount of stuff on fashion, right?"
 
"August is the one who really has a love for all of this. I admit, I like a good suit now and then, Pat's a big fan of those, but I think I'm also happy in a comfortable sweater and some pyjama pants. I'm rather simple. But I have a good eye, yes, and I certainly know what catches my sister-in-law's. You looking as you do will attract her, I'm sure. Everyone here is handsome, naturally, and while you don't come near my Pat's level of beauty, you're certainly up there, Percival," he praised as he wandered to the other's closet, his finger laying lightly on his bottom lip as he took in the sight of the inevitably expensive clothes.

Padraig and August were the only members of the Society who had come from humble beginnings. The others who had been recruited were often gentleman ranking high in society at large, who responded positively to the idea of vampirism and gave their mortality up willingly. August wasn't elitist, he'd accept anyone he felt would be a good fit, but thus far, a pattern of recruiting in higher-class men seemed to have developed.

"Here, she adores royal blue, this would look dashing," he began as he held out a dinner jacket, reaching for the matching trousers. "Slick your hair back, find yourself a white shirt to go underneath that highlights those muscles of yours, and you'll be set-- and oh, try and talk about literature. I know she's always been interested in writing, she would tell me so when I was human and living at home. Bond with her over that."
 
"Now that's where I'm not going to be able to lie about the whole literature. I just find reading boring, I would much rather watch a sport than read it in the paper, yeah?" He commented as he watched the young vampire talk, finding his interest in helping pretty sweet. To him, Obediah was like a little brother so to see him happy was nice, especially when it was with him and not just August and Padraig.

"So she's smart, eh? Never met a lady who wanted to be a writer. Hell, I don't know many women who like to read," he admitted casually. He knew women of higher status could read, what with his mother's relatively hefty library while he was growing up, but commonwealth women? The idea was ridiculous. "I mean, what does she like? Don't make me read, mate."
 
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