It is no secret to any that Jesse has a temper. It is a volatile creature always curled in his gut, ready to spring. Over the past couple of years he’d discovered things about himself, the least of which being that he was fiercely protective of his own blood. And his own blood would all testify that the other thing that he is fiercely protective of is the Masquerade. If harm comes to them by way of a Hunter, for example, he shows no sympathy and no mercy. Because they are his blood, it does not mean they will get any lenience from him in regards to any Masquerade violations. As far as Victor’s recent progeny is concerned, and the argument had at the last Andras gathering, he did not see it has a breach. The law itself, as a singular thing, was something that he disagreed with. Not the Masquerade as a whole.
As Blake speaks, Jesse’s eyes narrow to sharp, hardened flints. Any smile that might have been lingering upon his lips disappears. There’s the familiar roar in his ears that is indicative of rising fury. He holds it. He holds his breath and he bottles it. He leans back in the very pose of relaxation, his arm slipping up onto the couch behind Renee’s head, one ankle resting on the opposite knee.
The fact that Reanna had asked for strengths and weaknesses and Blake had all but dismissed any answer that might be given by Renee or Jesse by asking whether there are any other thoughts or opinions to be directed at him was, to Jesse, highly ******* disrespectful. As if they were all just minions in his little scheme.
Renee answers anyway, much to Jesse’s satisfaction. And by the time that she has, he himself has a better handle upon his anger – though of course it’ll be sitting there, just below the surface – perhaps a hint of it in the husky tone of his voice.
“Damned right I’m competent at rituals,” he says, smoothly. “And as far as I’m aware I haven’t fucked up anything important in the past, Blake. Not that you’d know. You have my word,” he says, voice dripping with disdain, a sly grin curling the corner of his lips.
“If you’re such an expert, then you’d be aware that there’s been a fae in this room all along. With us,” he says. There’s a glint in his eye as his head cants to the side. “As for getting to work, I should think we need a plan, first. Have you got one for us?” he asks. Though this last question isn’t directed at Blake. It is instead directed at Reanna.
As Blake speaks, Jesse’s eyes narrow to sharp, hardened flints. Any smile that might have been lingering upon his lips disappears. There’s the familiar roar in his ears that is indicative of rising fury. He holds it. He holds his breath and he bottles it. He leans back in the very pose of relaxation, his arm slipping up onto the couch behind Renee’s head, one ankle resting on the opposite knee.
The fact that Reanna had asked for strengths and weaknesses and Blake had all but dismissed any answer that might be given by Renee or Jesse by asking whether there are any other thoughts or opinions to be directed at him was, to Jesse, highly ******* disrespectful. As if they were all just minions in his little scheme.
Renee answers anyway, much to Jesse’s satisfaction. And by the time that she has, he himself has a better handle upon his anger – though of course it’ll be sitting there, just below the surface – perhaps a hint of it in the husky tone of his voice.
“Damned right I’m competent at rituals,” he says, smoothly. “And as far as I’m aware I haven’t fucked up anything important in the past, Blake. Not that you’d know. You have my word,” he says, voice dripping with disdain, a sly grin curling the corner of his lips.
“If you’re such an expert, then you’d be aware that there’s been a fae in this room all along. With us,” he says. There’s a glint in his eye as his head cants to the side. “As for getting to work, I should think we need a plan, first. Have you got one for us?” he asks. Though this last question isn’t directed at Blake. It is instead directed at Reanna.
