The Sangruis Society

"...Oh, well, I don't want you to lie. You may find yourself quoting Wuthering Heights and attributing the masterpiece to Dickens, which really would be a disaster. That'd be awfully embarrassing for you, and I'd rather not be responsible for getting you in that position. So if you must mention literature, do so generally. Mention the more popular of writers and change the topic before she asks specifics. She does enjoy sewing, from what I recall, and she's prone to shopping... I don't think you two have a lot in common actually," he admitted as he carefully set the outfit aside, doubt creeping in the moment he remembered just how opposed the older vampire was to reading. It would be one connection Isabelle would be able to have with him, and would encourage a bond to develop, but Obediah didn't want to rattle off some plots of some of the famous Victorian novels if there was even the slightest possibility Percival got mixed up and made a fool of himself.

He cared for the man too much to put him in a situation like that. He could pull it off, but the likelihood was that he would get confused, as anyone who didn't like to read and had little to no knowledge of the century's famous authors would.

"I suppose you'll just have to charm her with wit and humour; she has a good humour, I admit that. Hopefully you won't get too stuck in trying to find something you both enjoy because I admit, I don't know too much of how she spends her private time. There was never much to do in the country..."
 
"Oh, yeah, I remember Pat mentioning a country home. You know, I had a lovely country home when I was younger," he admitted, sitting up a bit from the bed to take in the outfit. He ought to at least try the whole suit on if he was going to step out and seduce an elite, right?

"If her whole personality is books, we're not going to click, but I know there's more to her than that. There's always more to someone than one hyperfixated thing, right?" He reminded as he slipped into the shirt, humming in contemplation at the sight. "Sewing? I'd rather try that out. Maybe I could make my own clothes, wouldn't that be fun?"
 
"If you say so. I don't think making clothes sounds fun at all, but my idea of a good time is relaxing by the fireplace in Padraig's arms, so what do I know about actual hobbies? Give it a try, you might enjoy it, and sewing is a valuable skill. My mother taught me when I was a young boy to sew; she used to say that it would help me charm the ladies. It was nonsense, obviously, but she was sweet enough to believe it-- I'm babbling, aren't I? Look, you'll do just fine with Isabelle. She's nice, a little bland, a tad pompous... but overall decent," he smiled, realising when he was all but forced to talk about the woman and describe her that he really knew very little. He was guilty of not spending time with her when he had lived at home as a human, but it had never felt appropriate to do so - and anytime he did try to get to really know her, all she did was gush about Forrest, so naturally, Obediah gave up attempting to build a connection.

His faith in the plan was decreasing the more obstacles he foresaw, the major one being that he didn't deem Isabelle interesting enough to keep Percival's attention, and he didn't think they even had anything in common to even talk about. All he could see was an evening of awkward silence if the two did, somehow, find themselves alone together. If Percival even got that far, Obediah would be amazed.

"...She isn't... your type. Why August picked you is beyond me. I honestly think you're a wonderful man, Percival, but you and Isabelle are not compatible and this is a waste of your time, really. The least you could get out of this was a fun time with a beautiful woman, but I doubt you'll have fun, so this feels awfully unfair on you. Perhaps... Oliver can step in? He's a bore sometimes, so he'll have that in common with her."
 
Percival's pretty consistent smile faded upon hearing how the other truly felt, his hands stopping from finishing the buttons. He knew he wasn't the brightest, nor when there were scholars and businessman in their Society, so he knew there was a chance the others would change their mind for someone smarter. The fact that he wouldn't at least have a second chance made him instead frown deeply, a sight rarely seen.

"Oh, well... I... guess you're right," he murmured, looking away from Obediah in embarrassment. "I know I'm not... great, at stuff, but I was really looking forward to this. It's fone, you know her better than I do. I guess I was just excited to meet a lovely lady for the first time in awhile."
 
"...In my defence, you did have a meeting with her last night, Percy. And she hit you with her purse and, I assume, ran as fast as she could in fear for her life? I... really do doubt that a second meeting with her would go well if she recognises you," he pointed out as gently as he could to try and bring the other to his way of thinking. He wasn't against the second chance because he thought the other didn't deserve one. Sure, he had messed up, but Obediah had been the most vocal in defending him, going against August and his own boyfriend to do so.

If anything, he was trying to save him the potential embarrassment of arriving home a second time with news of a failure. He didn't doubt at all that he would be appealing to Isabelle on looks alone, but when it came to personality and hobbies, he really didn't think the two would mix, and that wasn't Percy's fault. It was August's for deciding he would be the ideal suitor when others were more suited to the job.

"Oh god, please don't pout, you're making me feel like a total shit, Percy-- I'm trying to help you. I don't want her belittling you if you fail to connect with her, or if, god forbid, you attempt to talk about literature and get authors mixed up. She'll tear you apart. As boring as I think she is -granted, I don't know her that intimately-, she's also formidable when she wants to be. I... I care for you too much to send you to see a task through that could end up with you being... embarrassed. August isn't fond of failure, and... you coming home again without charming her won't go down well, so... I think Oliver would be boring enough to charm her. She's not the type to go for handsome, funny, adorable characters like you."
 
"You're right - you're right," he replied quietly, his hands now hurrying in reverse to get the shirt off as quickly as possible, the feeling of it suddenly being suffocating. "Look, it's - I'm fine. I'm... going to my room. As you said, I'm sure Oliver will be far more capable."

As he spoke, Percival's throat choked up a bit. He wasn't afraid of his emotions because he very rarely felt upset. He often tried to see the best once things but that didn't seem feasible when he was pretty much being told to not try again.
 
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"...You shouldn't get so upset over a woman who is really such an utter bore that my brother, the kindest man on this planet, is willing to risk everything to divorce her and follow his heart. My brother really isn't the brave sort, so the fact he's willing to take the plunge must say a lot about how horrid it must be to be married to her. Really, I'm doing you a favour by easing you off this assignment. You can go and charm all the other human women you want; I'm sure you'll get any one you want, you're so lovely," he praised, though despite the compliments being genuine, they felt hollow given they were more or less landing on deaf ears.

Guilt ate away at Obediah often, even over things he had no reason to feel guilty for. It was often usual to hear him apologise for something he hadn't even done, determined to keep the peace around the place even if that meant saying sorry for things he wasn't even involved in. This, however, was his fault; Percival's upset had been a result of his doubt in him. He thought he knew best by weaning him away from the plan, but apparently, his concern and cautiousness had only made things worse.

"You can't have found her that remarkable, she's... like any other woman in the upper-class of society. There are dozens like her in this area. I'm sure August has connections; he could set you up if you're really that... lonely."
 
"Let me say that I'm not that lonely," he began,growing embarrassed at the idea. "I don't need August to help me find someone. I just thought this would be nice, you know? I thought it would be fun to be able to pretend to be someone I'm not," he explained quickly before clearing his throat.

"I get it, it's fine. I'm not going to peruse her, I'm not deaf." He insisted, his face twisting in frustration and his brow knitting. "I understand that you care about me, Obediah. I'll keep out of it and Oliver can take my place. As I said, I want to be alone; I don't think I could show my face to August again for awhile."
 
"...I think that'd be for the best. Besides, you don't need help finding a woman; Oliver does. He needs all the help he can get," he laughed in a clear attempt at lightening the mood. Unlike the others, he hated upsetting anyone. He never sought out to do it, so harboured endless guilt when he did hurt someone's feelings because it was almost always accidental or unavoidable.

He found the atmosphere growing awkward the longer he lingered in the room, though he was determined to leave on what he considered to be good terms with someone who he had liked immensely for four years. He liked all the members of the Society, and while he had grown closest to August and Padraig, Percival was definitely someone he saw as one of his best friends. Leaving the room and fearing he was leaving their friendship unsettled wasn't something he wanted to do, even if the mood only grew more uncomfortable the longer he stayed.

The knock at the door downstairs did distract him. It was morning, so the likelihood of it being a member of the Society was slim - if anyone had been caught outside, they would be hammering urgently at the door to be let in, not knocking lightly and politely. It wasn't rare to hear an outsider approach, often a man who ranked high in London's society who was desperate to find out the secrets of the Sangruis members and join for himself, despite not knowing what the group did. Obediah assumed this was another outside hopeful wanting to be a part of their family, his eyes rolling when he knew the hopeful would be let down - August only accepted those he himself sought out and approached first. He didn't take kindly to men arriving at the building in an effort to bribe their way into the premises.

Isabelle's voice caught him by surprise, as it did August when he heard the usually unruffled, calm vampire sound shocked at her presence. To Obediah's further surprise, she was let into the building, August far too curious to turn her away despite the risk he was imposing upon her and the danger he was willingly letting her into.

"My husband doesn't know I'm here. He thinks I'm shopping while he's having a lie-in due to his exhaustion," she began calmly as she trailed into the decorated living room, her eyes observing every surface with a surprise at the decor - though taking in August expelled that surprise. The interior had him written all over it, and she found herself smiling to herself, ridiculing her own earlier surprise. Setting various bags down, she took a seat in a free armchair, eyes drifting between both August and Padraig quietly.

"I came for two reasons. One, to see Obediah. I care deeply about my brother-in-law and I know he's here because you know his illness better than we do, but that does not mean I will be shut out and prevented from seeing him. Secondly, I want my husband to be a part of this Society. He deserves to be. As reluctant as I am to admit it, your Society has a marvellous reputation as being somewhere all the elites want to be, and my husband is certainly an elite, so... it makes sense, does it not?"

"...I'm open to him joining, I've proposed the idea to him myself, Isabelle. It is his decision to accept it or not," began August as he smiled politely hiding the annoyance he had for the woman. "Pat, be a dear and make our guest some tea. I think we have some left from when Obediah was... able to drink it."
 
Padraig had to spend most days trying to entertain himself and usually it was spent with Obediah in some way. To have him spending time with Percival instead with him, he was impatiently tapping his foot as he tried to pretend he wasn't beyond bored. Looking up from his book at the familiar voice of Isabelle, he couldn't stop from letting a wicked smile curl on his lips.

"It's lovely to see you again, Isabelle, I was hoping to be able to talk to you more," he admitted smoothly as he sat up from the comfortable chair. For a brief moment, he shot a curious glance towards August though brought no verbal attention to his curiosity towards it all. Nonetheless he motioned Obediah to follow him to the communal kitchen.

It was rarely used, hence why it was relatively barren bar the ultimate necessities. The fact that Obediah hadn't been a vampire for more than two months at the max so of course there were still a few little snacks and plenty of tea. Starting up the usual process, he peered around the corner to take in August and Isabelle, his eye narrowing.

"Oi, should I get Percival? What did you tell him, by the way? I would think he would be trotting about all eager," Padraig murmured quietly as to not accidentally bring attention to them. "Oh, this is so... fun, Obediah. I'm glad something is going to happen today."
 
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"I discovered how little he and Isabelle have in common and I wanted to spare him the embarrassment of an inevitably awkward encounter, Pat. I... I care about him too much to send him off trying to charm someone he has absolutely nothing in common with. It'd be cruel of me to stand be and actively encourage it, wouldn't it? So I suggested that Oliver take his place. It isn't even like this is a big deal. It's merely to drive a wedge between her and my brother. Once that has been completed, there's really no need for anyone to talk about Isabelle again, so... the fact he's making such a fuss about it is... bewildering," the new vampire admitted as he obediently followed his boyfriend out to the kitchen, casting his own glance out at Isabelle as he tried to fight the urges he was hit with. Instead, he reached for the bottle of blood left out after last night's dinner party and poured himself a hefty glass, thankful to have that to distract him from the much more tempting offer of blood from the vein.

"...I'm sure Percival will forgive me when he realises I was right to dissuade him. And I really do hope you calm the excitement down a little. She'll be gone in a few minutes; none of this is as fun as you're seeming to make it out to be," he reminded as he side-eyed his lover curiously, the wide grins over what he himself thought was a pretty tiring situation being a little confusing - until he realised that Padraig was so bored usually that this was a welcome distraction from the usual tedium.

"You should go out sailing with your old crew soon; you're starting to find life here boring. It's good for you to... you know, break up life on land with a few months on the sea. I know that's where you feel at home, isn't it?"
 
"Between the both of us, you know there's nothing I would love more than to head back on the seas and explore again. That being said, I've already made it very clear that I'm not leaving you alone," he reminded with a dramatic sigh before resting a hand on the young vampire's hip, the sight of him hungrily drinking back the blood sort of cute in a way.

"You like it on land and I've already told you that I'm willing to make the sacrifice for you," he reminded quietly before leaning down to offer a soft kiss. "That is, unless you're saying that to try and get me to leave me alone for good in which, that isn't happening either. Ideally, I'd have you by my side as we traveled, finding new places to spend time together with. I'm sure my old crew has been to every corner of the world by now, huh?" He teased, though more towards no one in general. He knew his boyfriend couldn't care less about his love for sailing and he at least wanted to respect his discomfort of it all.

"I just need to try new things, yeah? Maybe go to more operas, or... learn to paint. It is true that I need something a little different."
 
"...I just don't want you to be bored here, that's all. I intend to stay in the Society for the next few centuries, I have no desire to leave London. If you're bored after a few years, I... can't imagine how the next few decades will fair for you. If you needed a break, to travel and cut up the monotony, all I'm saying is that I'd understand and that your happiness is important to me. Besides, I wouldn't be alone. I'd miss you dreadfully, but I have August and the others-- but you're right, it's your choice and I respect that," he nodded quickly, sensing that this wasn't the right time to get into the intricacies of a private, personal debate about what to do with their time when the two obviously had different ways of entertaining themselves. Padraig liked to travel and explore, whilst Obediah was happy to spend every minute inside with a book by the fireplace, having no desire to even leave the city.

While it was a conversation that needed to be had, now wasn't the right time to do so.

"Maybe you can go and fetch Oliver down? Make sure Percival is unaware of it, I don't want him trailing downstairs and feeling awkward about... us effectively cutting him out of the...plan."
 
"I'm just... suggesting it, Obediah," he grumbled in response. He detested the fact that the man was so goddamn stubborn about the idea of heading out into the world. Even just leaving the country for a day or two would be enough for him, enough to be able to quench his thirst for a new location. He didn't face the other, instead focusing on pouring the hot water for the cup of tea, humming as he brewed it. Motioning to Obediah to finish up the tea, he was fully intending to head upstairs to grab Oliver... only to cringe upon seeing Percival walk down the stairs, a frown still on a lips as he fully intended to pour himself some blood to make him moping at least a little more enjoyable.

"What's everyone crowding - oh. She's here?" Percival confirmed in shock as he peered down the hallway, childishly hurrying into the small kitchen with an awkward laugh before snatching the blood and pouring himself a glass, hiding his anxiety the best he could.

"She's even prettier than I thought," the vampire whispered under his breath, the faint semblance of a blush grazing his cheeks. Pouring himself a tall glass, he took in the couple anxiously with a furrowed brow. "I... should head back upstairs. This is a mess - I shouldn't have done this to begin with."
 
"I'll just go and see what's taking them so long. If you can't get something done, do it yourself, hm?" August could be heard saying, executing his false laugh perfectly as he walked from the living him, his equally false smile disappearing when he made it to the kitchen to see the three men looking at a loss. He had no idea that the plan had changed, that Oliver was the one now deemed best to charm Isabelle. As far as he was concerned, Percival was still responsible for pulling that plan off, and having Isabelle in the building was a good chance for him to get started on it.

"Oh, you're downstairs-- marvellous. Go and take her in her tea and say that I'm making myself coffee; entertain her for a few minutes until I arrive in there. I'll give you ample time to make an impression on her. Talk about books, I heard she enjoys reading--"

"He doesn't know anything about literature, August," began Obediah quietly, his eyes wide as Percival was all but pushed into executing the plan. He was already in August's bad books - if he said that he didn't think he could charm her as well as Oliver could, then the mood between them would only sour. Obediah knew that, which was why he held back from saying anything, for his friend's benefit.

"Oh, he'll have to make something up then, won't he? I really don't care how you do it, Percival. You owe me after your pathetic attempt last night. Just hope that she doesn't recognise you and start crying for the police, or we'll have to shut her up and I really don't want to have to spill blood on my new Indian carpet."
 
"I - uh, alright," replied Percival, his eyes quickly darting to Obediah for some sort of help. When he was already out of the kitchen with the cup of tea in his hands, he cleared his throat as he approached the woman, a charming smile on his lips to make up for the fact that he was only dressed in an under shirt and slacks, having changed when he assumed he was going to be alone. Setting the glass of tea down in front of Isabelle, he took her in with curiosity.

"Sorry about that, Miss. August is quite fussy, I'm sure he's gotta make his coffee just right," Percival explained. "I hope you don't mind me replacing him for awhile as he gets himself together. My name is Percival, by the way."
 
"...It's a pity you didn't get yourself together before heading downstairs. You're not really in the attire suited to meeting a lady for the first time, are you? I thought this Society welcomed in gentlemen of a high standing?" She questioned with an arched brow, her lips slightly pursed as she took in both the casual appearance and the other's accent and turns of phrase, which, again, didn't seem comparable with that of a gentleman, or what she assumed to be a gentleman at the very least.

Waving her hand to put the excuses aside, she motioned for him to take a seat as she retrieved the cup of tea with a faint 'thank you', nodding her head in approval at the taste - not too milky, and on the sweet side, as she had always taken it.

"And how long have you been a member of the Society, Percival? I'm attempting to get my husband in here, you see-- not a permanent in-house member, but a member nonetheless. It'd do him wonders-- he's a Crownfield, you see."
 
"Not long, just about a year and a half now," he lied with a smile, having become well adjusted to lying about his age. In reality, he'd been a vampire for around a decade. Time just sort of seemed to stop when you were immortal so to him it did truly only feel like a year or so.

Once taking a seat across her, he took in her neat and unsurprisingly fancy attire and compared it to himself, the realization that he was more than just a little underdress causing him to nervously laugh. Putting his hands up in defense, his smile turned crooked - a sign of both cockiness and anxiety on his part.

"In my defense, I was simply passing by," he explained, looking down at his casual appearance. "I can assure you that in no other situation would I look like this, I promise! Anyway, now that I've made a fool of myself, may I ask you how you're dojng?"
 
"...I'm fine. A little uncomfortable, admittedly. Obediah confuses me, he said these people here were monsters and yet now he seems fine with them. I was rather nervous coming here, but you all seem perfectly nice. I'm sure his sickness is confusing him, causing him to say things he doesn't mean. I brought him a few items, I thought he could do with cheering up," she explained as she motioned to the bags at her side, containing some clothes she had bought for him during her shopping spree the previous day. While she hadn't wanted Obediah crashing at the hotel with her, wanting private time with her husband, it didn't mean she didn't care for him.

Her arriving at a place where he had told her was full of dangerous monsters was a testament to how deeply she cared.

"Oh, you two seem to be talking up a storm. About literature, no doubt? Has Percival told you that he works at a publishing company?" Cooed August as he arrived back, purposely to let that lie sink in to give Isabelle a reason to want to see the other again. He didn't care how Percival carried on the lie or what bullshit he spewed - as long as he had a reason to see Isabelle, the chances of her growing close to him would inevitably increase. "Oh, 'll fetch biscuits! Can't have tea without some custard creams."

"You-- work for a publishing company here in London? Well, that's some luck! I've got ideas of writing, you see-- I could do with all the advice you're willing to give me on this whole journey," she grinned, too excited to even notice August's devious smirk as he scurried out to fetch the few snacks that remained in their cupboards. "I really should have guessed you'd have a good job; you speak very well, hold yourself properly. That's a sign of a well-to-do man."
 
"... of course I am." Replied Percival, his eyes narrowing at August in anger while trying to keep a calm disposition with Isabelle. "I've been taking a bit of a break from work lately, enjoying our little club here, but I'd be more than happy to help you with your writing, ma'am. Does your husband know, about your book idea?" He offered, the combination of anger and curiosity simmering below the surface.

"Let's discuss your book when I'm not indecent," he chuckled, motioning to himself to try and lighten the air. It also gave him an excuse the see the woman again, all the while realizing it would maybe be enough to read at least half a book. He didn't have the best attention span, hence why he struggled, but now he was determined.
 
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