In Case of Emergency, Break Glass [Closed]

[Grey Weston]

<Kaspar> "I can't believe I didn't just tie you to the ******* bed, Liebchen. This is ridiculous." He hissed under his breath, slamming the car door and ensuring the man was steady on his feet after hopping out. He locked the hulking black jeep, glaring over his shoulder at the mall that loomed ahead. "A mall... What a hideous word, and you mock German!" He repeated the word, letting it roll around in his mouth, trying to form it comfortably.

<Grey Weston> "I'm fine," he repeated. The words were barely more than a sigh; a short exhale that indicated he'd repeated himself half a dozen times that evening alone. He was slower to exit the car, pulling on the handle and allowing the door to swing outwards. He eyed the drop with mild skepticism; grimacing in anticipation of the shock it would send through his still-recovering frame. And then he jumped, biting back a hiss. "If it makes you feel better, it comes from the root word pallamaglio," he responded cooly, nudging the door shut with his hip. "Italian. And prettier."

<Vienna Torres> The woman in worn, anachronistic clothing stood in front of the mall, the lights casting strange shadows across her face and tangled hair. A hand stained with dirt and grime reached out to passersby, who mostly gave her a wide berth - though one or two paused, handing her a significant sum of money in exchange for a few whispered words. Not an uncommon sight in front of the mall. Today, though, she seemed to have developed a shadow. Vienna sat back against the wall, her arms folded. She watched the Oracle with thoughtful frustration - at least, until she sighted the jeep and those who left it. "Grey?" She rose to her feet, running toward Kaspar and Grey. Kaspar got only a brief look - her attention was upon Grey as she asked, "Are you all right?"

<Kaspar> "No." His tone was clipped, not bothering to elaborate as he helped the man towards the mall, noting Vienna as they grew closer. His body tensed as if ready for a fight, the man not really willing to look her in the eye, a quiet anger still boiled within him. He caught the brief glance, and it only served to fuel his frustrations, her thinking it acceptable to dismiss him. It was not. His arm about Grey's waist remained, in a way that basically dared her to try and pry it free.

<Grey Weston> He seemed to sag with the weight of his relief; frame collapsing in on itself, as if it were a struggle to keep upright. He flashed a grin at Vienna's approach; it radiated warmth, despite the circles that collected underneath his eyes, pooling like shadows. It lent them a bruised look; like the punched out headlights of a car. Stark and full of a yawning lack. "Vi!" He greeted. "I'm..." He began, a low, defeated chuckle slipping from him. "Tired of that question, honestly." He paused at Kaspar's curt response, briefly stretching up to press a kiss against his cheek, despite the way his skin caught, pulled taut. "Schnucki." It was casual, but just sharp enough to be both warning and admonishment.


<Vienna Torres> She gave Grey a searching look - it was hard to believe that he's safe and well. Mostly safe and well. But at his words, her mouth began to lift in a smile. One eyebrow rose slightly at the 'schucki", but when she glanced back at Kaspar, her smile faded. She studied him, something uncertain flashing in her eyes for the briefest moment, before her expression became guarded. "Hey."

<Kaspar> Kaspar had the good sense to look briefly surprised before giving a resigned groaned at Grey's affectionate term, and the touch of lips against his skin. It was tempting to melt, to nuzzle in close and allow himself to give in to the comfort, simply be glad he was boyfriend was up and about in one piece. He might've, if the cause of the initial drama was not now addressing him. "Hallo." His voice was tight with tension, his gaze only glancing her before looking over her head, as if distracted by something he saw beyond her inside the Mall itself.

<Grey Weston> The sound coaxed the corners of Grey's lips to quirk; the smile a slow, gradual thing. It was mildly smug, for the briefest of seconds. The endearment had been hushed and even, despite the reluctance of his lips to form the drawn out harshness of the sentiment. He pulled away a second later, offering a mildly apologetic shrug. "I would've hung out sooner, but this one --" he indicated Kaspar with a jerk of his chin, "might have had an aneurysm. How have you been?" He asked.

<Vienna Torres> At Kaspar's tense, tight greeting, she gave him a long look, her lips pressed together. As Grey spoke, she glanced quickly back at him. "I'm okay," she said, shrugging a shoulder. Her chin dipped slightly. "I'm glad you're better." There might be a restrained apology in those words.

<Kaspar> "Better... He is better, but he is not alright. He's right about the aneurysm though, i'm quite sure something might have burst in my brain. Though, being what I am, I would get to survive through the unpleasantness unlike my darling, fragile boyfriend here." His point was made, and he was ushering Grey forwards. "We need to find somewhere to sit."

<Grey Weston> “Okay,'" he echoed. He should have been pacified by the response. Content with it, at the very least. There was something about the hesitation in her voice - the way her gaze slid away to lock with Kaspar's - that left him dissatisfied. His stare was pointed; unconvinced. He didn't have time to question it before Kaspar was guiding him forward, urging him through the parking lot. "Don't mind him," he settled on. "He's just upset that we have to avoid 'strenuous activity' for at least another week. Which means my flexibility's fucked. There go the early morning blow jobs."

<Vienna Torres> At Grey's words, she glanced back at him, unable to help letting out a breath of laughter. After a moment of hesitation, she trailed after Kaspar and Grey. "Maybe you just need to find a new early morning routine that doesn't involve you bending over or straining those muscles."
‹Kaspar› "We have," He chimed in, fingertips tracing idly over his partner's side, nuzzling a soft kiss down amongst his hair. "Now i'm just his tragic little love slave, and he gets all the attention. Well, that and his hands aren't injured." He tried for later, but there was still a lingering hint of irritation in his voice.

<Grey Weston> The careful touch of Kaspar's fingertips against his side was at once a comfort and a distraction. A low snort escaped him a second later. "He enjoys it," he replied smoothly. He was silent as they made their way across the pavement of the parking lot, Grey slowing in response to the barest brush of Kaspar's lips. He reached back a second later, blindly searching for the man's hand, fingers lacing through his with a quiet ease. He gave his hand a brief squeeze of reassurance as they neared the main entrance to the mall, the doors sliding back at they approached with a brief rush of chilled air. "Have you eaten?" He asked suddenly, gaze cutting to Vienna.

<Vienna Torres> As they passed the Oracle, she cast a brief look toward the woman, before she smiled at Grey's words. "Of course he does." She watched the two of them for a moment, before she stepped into the hall of the mall, zipping up her jacket. She turned toward Grey and Kaspar. "Not yet. You hungry? We can get something, my treat."

<Kaspar> Kaspar shrugged in a non-committal manner to Vienna's question, toying with Grey's fingers, concentrating on the hand in his. "Mm, I could eat." Whether he would or not was another matter, sure it still tasted good but it wasn't a necessity. "Though i'm not sure i'm hungry for Vienna tonight, maybe just something else hideously bad for me, like cheese fries."

<Grey Weston> He was half-tempted to bring Kaspar's hand to his mouth and bite down; teeth sinking neatly between the first and second joint of his knuckle. It would have been too severe of a warning for the man, however; despite the strangely flat, clipped responses that countered Vienna's, he was remarkably poised. He would have to see about rewarding him later. "You will not," he informed Vienna sternly. He allowed his fingertips to brush along the inside of Kaspar's palm."They've got a churros cart," he said abruptly. "You should try one."


<Vienna Torres> The reminder of Kaspar's true nature might have been more discomfiting a few weeks ago; as it was, she only rolled her eyes, her mouth pulling into a frown as she wondered what the **** his problem was. No - that wasn't true. She knew exactly what his problem was. Grey's admonition left her uncertain if he'd expected her to snap back at Kaspar - which was a tempting thought. "Are they actually good here?" she asked. "They're expensive here, even for mall food."

<Kaspar> He scoffed at the pair of them, giving Grey a knowing look before reluctantly releasing the man. "Find a seat, make sure he doesn't land on his ***, if you wouldn't mind Vienna." The tall blonde slipped away from the pair, making his way over to the stand and giving the two a moment to chat while he ordered for them. While waiting he got chatting to a woman who passed by, someone who knew him from clubs and paused to take his attention with an enthusiastic, flirtatious greeting.

[Kaspar]

<Grey Weston> "'Good' is subjective," he began cautiously. It was tactful way of stating that they were twists of dough that had, in all likelihood, spent the better part of four hours baking beneath heat lamps. Declaring them anything other than a cheap indulgence - one long since dehydrated - would have been overly generous. Fresh, however, they were soft; heavy with the butter that saturated them. "But cinnamon." He shot Kaspar a mild look, then; one that did a poor job of communicating lasting annoyance. "Spare me the indignity," he muttered, even as he began to weave towards an open table, tucked towards the center of the food court. It was one that took pride of place beneath a skylight; a solitary tree extending anemic branches towards the cloudy glass. "So," he began, carefully easing himself into his seat with a wince, "what aren't you telling me?"

<Vienna Torres> That probably meant that those churros were terrible, then. Kaspar's words brought a frown to her face, but she gave him a short nod. She glanced at Grey, ready to offer him a hand - but he had already begun to move toward an open table. One of the farther ones, toward the center of the courtyard at that. She shot him a questioning look, staying close enough in case he needed a hand. When they reached the table, she took the seat across from him, her eyes widening at the question. She kept her gaze fixed on Grey's face, carefully not looking in Kaspar's direction. "What do you mean?"

<Kaspar> The blonde was laughing in response to something the woman was saying, though he was tactfully leaning back from the flirtatious batting at his chest with a hand and the way she moved closer had him peering across the room, watching where Grey and Vienna had settled themselves. He'd managed to use his natural charm to get a fresh batch made, with extra cinnamon sugar and dipping chocolate. Denying Grey his cinnamon had disastrous results, and as reluctant as he was to allow Vienna much of Grey's time, the pair probably needed a minute to talk and his distraction afforded them that.

<Grey Weston> His gaze was level as it fixed on hers. There was a hesitancy in her gaze; a subtle flinching when it settled on Kaspar, abruptly shying away. It would have been easy to dismiss it as guilt, but Vienna rarely expressed that particular emotion. A weight hung between them; shared reluctantly. “I’m not blind, Vi,” he said after a moment. “You’ve been avoiding eye contact with Kaspar since we got here.” He kept his tone light. “You can either tell me what’s going on, or…” He trailed off meaningfully. “I’ll ask him myself.” He rose from his seat a moment later, movements ginger. “I’m going to grab drinks, maybe an order of fries to split,” he announced. The fries were largely for Kaspar’s benefit; there was a kiosk that offered everything from white truffle fries dusted with paraan to cheese fries loaded with finely diced scallions and two cheeses, dusted with either parsley or bacon, depending on one's taste. “You want anything?”

<Vienna Torres> "Yeah, I want you to stop snooping, Grey." She shook her head at him. "You should already be used to Kaspar and I avoiding each other all the time, and that was before - " She stumbled over the words for a moment. "- I got you shot."

He was just barely out of bed and he already wanted to make sure that she and Kaspar were all right, taking it on himself to fix everything. Would he just give it a rest?

Of course he wouldn’t.

"I'll get the fries and the drinks." She rose to her feet, gesturing at him to sit back down with a sharp frown. From the way he moved, he looked as though he might already be in pain."What drinks and what kind of fries do you want?"

<Kaspar> The churros were almost ready, the cinnamon and sugar being dusted over liberally, the melted chocolate and spanish caramel ladled into little plastic containers. Kaspar watched with a detached sort of interest, trying to stop himself from staring over his shoulder at Grey and Vi, from trying to lip read. It was a pair of lips that managed to make the distraction genuine, too close to his ear, one hand gripping around his bicep as she leaned up to whisper to him.

The blonde was a pretty, bouncy creature, the sort that was easy to have around as she rarely sought to challenge you beyond a point. Teasing, smart remarks on occasion but nothing ever particularly cunning or cruel. She seemed somehow to often end up in his little crew when he went out, and was welcome to hang backstage. At one point she’d dated his bandmate and friend, but it had been a fleeting thing as most of the dude’s relationships were.

Her words were what caught him rather than the closeness, that wasn’t unusual or anything to read into, it was her solemn tone. The churros were put onto the countertop, Kaspar thanking the worker but not taking them yet, instead staring into pretty green eyes as if seeking confirmation that she was being serious.

<Grey Weston> “Sit. Down.” The words, though measured, were hissed; escaping through his clenched teeth. The tension in his jaw, though fleeting, was obvious. He took a moment to slide his fingers into the depths of his pocket. The casual observer would assume he was blindly fishing for his wallet; possibly his phone. His fingers closed, instead, around a rather absurdly bulky pill bottle. He took a moment to untwist the cap, upending a capsule into his open palm with a brisk shake. His tone evened out a moment later; a sly edge to the words. “Before mother hen over there jumps on my dick about the fact that I’m not supposed to take more than one every six hours.” It was a desperate scramble to insert levity.

He brought his cupped palm to his lips a second later, head tipping back just slightly, the swallow rough. “Vi,” he started again, more gently. “Your finger wasn’t on the trigger.” That he’d been shielding her from the worst of the volley was a minor detail, in his mind. Unimportant. “Secondly…” He started, gesturing her back into her seat with an impatient hand gesture, “of the two of us, I’m the one with a big, strong ma--noble protector.” His gaze lifted above Vienna’s shoulder, narrowing slightly as it settled on Kaspar. “****’s he doing?” The last was a muttered aside. “Let me decide whether or not I want to get involved.” He paused, taking a cautious step back. “I asked you first.” He didn’t give her the option to argue, already making his way towards the nearest restaurant.

<Vienna Torres> Grey had saved her life. He'd been a friend when he didn't have to be, when she'd given him plenty of reasons not to be. But like hell was she just going to let him order her around, let him just pry into her secrets like he had a ******* right to. She glared at him, shaking her head.

She frowned as he spoke on. He was right: it hadn't been her finger on the trigger. She hadn't drawn the vampire to her, and she wasn't the reason all the cops in this town were trigger-happy psychos. But she'd been the one to call him, to ask him for help even though she'd known there was trouble. She hadn't meant to get him shot - had only thought to ask him for advice - but the fact that he didn't blame her for any of it made it worse, somehow. She would have liked it better if he'd blamed her, if he'd lashed out or acted the way Kaspar was.

The side mention of Kaspar was almost a relief: she turned, looking back at Kaspar. What was he doing? Getting churros usually didn't involve having a pretty blonde clinging to his arm? Was there anyone in this town Kaspar hadn't slept with?

She frowned, shooting Kaspar a questioning look, though her attention was soon called back to Grey. She snorted in response to his comment. Please. If they were playing that game, she'd said that she would buy first.

She bit back her words, falling in after him, her steps clipped, her mouth set in a deep frown.

At last, she sighed.

"Fine, she snapped. She held her head high and kept her voice hard: it had to be that way. "But I can't tell you here." Trahir would kill her if he found out. She tucked her hands into her pockets, giving him a sharp, searching look. "And you can't do anything about it behind my back."



<Kaspar> His reply was murmured, hushed and accompanied by a soothing brush of hand down the woman’s back. After a moment he pulled back, capturing her gaze with an earnest smile, though strained around the edges. “Thanks, we’ll speak soon, I have to get back.” He spoke louder, gesturing to where Grey and Vienna were standing, heading towards… What the hell were they up to? She followed his gaze, frowning and questioning it. She’d seen the others he’d been spending an awful lot of time with, and she’d glimpsed the guy maybe once or twice but Kas hadn’t introduced him. “My boyfriend…” He clarified unabashedly, almost straightening a little, daring her to comment. “And Sig actually adores him.” This had the blonde laughing, a rather encouraging sound, patting his arm.

Final pleasantries were exchanged and Kaspar was free to gather the churros and catch up to the pair, his long legs making short work of the distance between them. “Tut, tut. I believe I told you two to sit your backsides down while I fetched the food, hm? What do you think you’re doing?” His brow raised, looking between the two, “... What’s happened now? Vienna looks like she is about to be the one brain bleeding.” He quipped, offering one of the churros baskets to her. “Fresh, and extra cinnamon for Prince TongueBurnIsBest over here.” He nodded to Grey, eyes rolling.

<Grey Weston> The cashier - some distance away - shot the pair a wary look, her smile faltering, turning more hesitant as her gaze shifted between Grey and Vienna. “Keep your voice down,” he cautioned, shooting the young woman a tight smile over his shoulder in response. It was far from reassuring, but his focus was on Vienna. She had a habit of spooking; of running from anyone who got too close. “Fine,” he conceded. “But we will be talking about it,” he finished, before placing his order for the carton of cheese fries. They were absolutely saturated in three different kinds of cheeses, bacon and scallions neatly crumbled on top. The flimsy paper that held them sagged underneath their burden, turning the white, checkered squares a dishwater gray with grease. Despite Vienna’s insistence, he was first to reach for his wallet, quickly handing over the cash before rather unceremoniously proceeding to the next mini-restaurant on the agenda.

The second place was dedicated to fusion. He took a moment to gesture her forward, graciously allowing her the chance to place an order if anything appealed to her. His gaze settled on Kaspar as he drew closer a second later. “Getting more food?” He offered, shoulders tucking. He had least had the decency to look mildly sheepish. “I called her out,” he said flatly. “On her ********. Went over about as well as you’d exp--hey!” He snorted a second later, taking a moment to fish one of the dripping fries free of its confines, pinching it between thumb and forefinger as if it were morally offensive, before abruptly forcing it against Kaspar’s lips. “Shh.”

<Vienna Torres> The fries that Grey ordered looked dubious - yellow fries lank with grease drowning beneath a landslide of cheese, but they smelled good.

When Kaspar joined them, she gave him an unrepentant shrug - though privately, she was of the same opinion as he was.

With a grunt of thanks, she snatched the churro basket from Kaspar and grabbed one, biting the top off of it. It tasted better than she expected - warm and soft, bursting with the taste of sugar and cinnamon.

[Vienna Torres (DELETED 8181)]

Not enough to stop her from giving Grey a stung look, though. "I am not full of ********!" she said, mouth full. She eyed him and Kaspar. “I can hear both of you.”

And they’d better not start making out over the cheese fries.

<Kaspar> He gave a sharp growl of protest, his lips had parted to argue when a chip coated in cheese was not so delicately shoved into his mouth, followed by shushing. He chewed it, eyes narrowed on Grey, swallowing like a good boy and licking his lips. “She is… You are.” He spoke to Vi then, finally looking at her properly. “So you still haven’t told him all about the complete psycho who thinks he owns you, hm? Which you DEFINITELY have not got under control, might I add.” He scoffed, grabbing the basket of fries and the churros back, turning to carry them off to a table that was further into the place.

He dropped into a seat, placing the items on the table and leaning back, just waiting for the pair to take the bait and join him. He was ready to lay it all out on the table, and ensure they all understood how dangerous the games they played were.

<Grey Weston> Satisfied that Kaspar hadn’t immediately spat the morsel out, he withdrew his fingers, kissing them lightly before pressing them to Kaspar’s lips once again. It was more cheeky than apologetic. He glanced between the pair, one brow making a show of arching slowly. He was in the process of turning to retrieve the light cardboard tray that held an assortment of drinks when Kaspar spoke again. The end result was that he nearly dropped the flimsy tray in his haste to pin Vienna in place with a hard stare.

“Table,” he managed, when he could trust himself to speak. The word was curt; exhaled through the sudden lacing agony that traveled up his side; stitches pulled taut and catching at his skin in mute protest, threatening to tear. His grip on the tray was white-knuckled as he made his way back towards the table with tightly controlled steps. He sank into his seat a moment later, focusing on unloading the tray, mutely nudging one of the thinly insulated cups at Kaspar, its sides beaded with moisture. “**** me,” he muttered under his breath.

<Vienna Torres> She'd already begun rolling her eyes almost as soon as Kaspar began speaking. At this point, it was practically instinctive. When she heard the rest of what he said, her gaze snapped onto him.

Not surprisingly, Grey didn’t take the news well. Defiantly, she ignored his stare - though she frowned when he spoke, unusually curt and brief, and took careful steps back toward the table.

She stalked after him. “You need a hand?” she asked, her voice tightly controlled.

When she reached the table, her attention fixed upon Kaspar. He’d said he wouldn’t tell unless Grey asked, and had Grey asked Kaspar? No.

"I was going to tell him," she said.

Pulling out a chair with a noisy screech, she glared at Kaspar. “And I'm doing fine, all things considered. So maybe shove it with the unhelpful side commentary, asshole."

<Kaspar> Kaspar reached out a hand towards Grey, not forcing help on him, but offering it as he sat. He accepted the drink, thumb and forefinger tracing around the cup, gathering up condensation, enjoying the coolness of it. “Later, Liebchen, most definitely.” He murmured in response to Grey’s abrupt swearing, trying to keep the mood somewhat light. Of course, his mirth slipped quickly when Vienna joined them and instead of realising her fault in the situation, or perhaps that her rude and resentful nature had lead to this she chose to blame Kaspar.

Again.

He was tempted to snap, to snark back, but knew that would only prove her point. Him seemingly bullying poor, innocent little Vienna. ********. Instead he settled for a raised brow, a quick glance to Grey and a deep sigh. “Were you, Vienna? And perhaps if you were not so intent on getting yourself involved in things you don’t understand, my commentary would be unneeded.

<Grey Weston> He allowed Kaspar's silent offer of aid, grateful for the steadying touch. The overburdened cardboard, straining with the weight of its contents, threatened to buckle, just briefly. It settled onto the table's surface without incident, and Grey's fingers curled lightly around Kaspar's wrist. He was suddenly exhausted. “We’ll have to send our neighbors a fruit basket at this rate. Cheese basket? What says ‘sorry for the filthy sex?’” He murmured in reply, unable to keep the grin from his face.

There was an abrupt shift in the atmosphere as Vienna joined them. “What I need,” he answered her belatedly, tone wry, “is a break.” He shot Kaspar a pointed, sidelong look. “But since that isn't in the cards, I'll settle for Westernized junk food. Sit.” He reached for the churro basket a second later, pulling the dessert item in half. The churro was still warm; pleasantly soft and flaky under his fingers.

The semblance of civility, as it often did with Vienna, rapidly dissolved. He flinched as her voice rose, sharp with accusation. “Vienna. Vi,” he interrupted. “Whether or not you like him, Kaspar is my boyfriend. I'm not saying you need to be best friends and start braiding each other's hair at sleepovers, but I am not going to sit here and listen to you disrespect him. He was trying to help. You can't keep driving people away. It doesn't make you tough. It makes you lonely.”

He straightened in his chair. “Now. Would one of you please tell me what the ****’s going on?”

<Vienna Torres> She met Kaspar's eyes for a moment, scowling. When they came, her words were civil, clipped - restrained as a dog held back by a leash. "I was going to tell him, actually. And how is this helping?"

She pulled a napkin from the dispenser and threw it down. Then, she set the churro down upon it. Her appetite was gone.

"Long story short, I made a new friend." she said. "Of the kind we met at the donut shop." She wiped her fingers clean on the napkin, the next words casual. "He's agreed not to kill me for now.”

<Kaspar> His gaze moved lazily between the pair, only becoming sharp and pointed when Vienna spoke again. “He is a psychopath named Trahir, who knows about her mother and YOU, Grey. And has threatened to do harm to them if she doesn’t stick to some contract he has her locked into and does his ghostly bidding. He also seems to think he owns her, and looked he wanted to kill me, got shouted down by his girlfriend and Mortll, you know the owner of the Voodoo? Apparently he tortures people, kills them and something about a river? He is not exactly “friend” material, I believe.”

He raised his brows at Vienna, as if daring her to argue, a hand reaching to rest lightly atop Grey’s knee, fingertips plucking gently as his eyes slid down to the table, a genuine frown colouring his expression. “I fear he will try to hurt you to upset her if she does wrong, Grey. He seemed spurred on by disagreement, he’s not right. He is the exact reason vampires have a bad name, not all of us forget our humanity so easily and turn into psychopathic arschlochs.” His jaw was held tense, frustration radiating from him as he spoke, so sick of being lumped in with people like HIM. Vienna had done it, assumed he was like that.

<Grey Weston> A low noise - halfway between an airless hiss between his teeth and a dry, humorless bark of laughter - escaped him. He settled back against his chair, hands lifting to his face a moment later. He knuckled briefly at his eyes, as if he could collect the exhaustion and scrub the strain of it from his eyes. “How,” he questioned, “does this keep happening?” The words were muffled against his palm, closer to a groan. “No, seriously,” he continued after a moment, hands falling from his face. He levelled a look on Vienna as he spoke, his expression flat. “How do you continually get yourself into these impossible situations? Anyone else would have a book deal by now.”

He settled slightly at Kaspar’s touch, soothed by the listless pluck of the man’s fingers. There was something comforting in the mindless repetition. “He won’t get the chance,” he replied grimly. “Let’s just...take a second to talk through what we know. Vienna?” His gaze shifted, became closer to something expectant. “Details. I’m more than willing to put the ****** in a steel box and toss it into the ocean, but I can’t do that if --” He exhaled. “We can’t help you,” he corrected himself, reaching absently for Kaspar’s free hand and lacing his fingers through his, offering a brief, reassuring squeeze. “If you won’t be upfront with us.”

[Grey Weston]

<Vienna Torres> "It was a lake," she corrected Kaspar.

"It was an accident! I totaled his car, and I didn't know what he was." She reached for the churro again, her fingers snipping at it, shredding it into crumbs that scattered across the napkin. "It's not like I go seeking out this sort of thing.

Though it seemed like she couldn't go anywhere these days without running into the kind of people that ate people - and she'd never even told Grey or Kaspar about the creepy lizard-eyed vampires.

She frowned when Grey mentioned putting Trahir into a box - would that work? Leaving aside the question of where they would find a box, what if Trahir could figure out some way out of it? She'd hate to end up like the protagonist of a shitty horror movie sequel.

And then there was Kaspar to think about - she glanced toward him, eyes narrowing slightly in thought as she gauged his reaction.

"Have you done this sort of thing before?" she asked Grey.

<Kaspar> “Lake, whatever. The horror of it is the same.” Kaspar scoffed, shaking his head at the girl and her talk of accidents. It seemed that they followed her, and each accident had gotten more dramatic than the last. He narrowed his own gaze upon Vienna, considering her for a moment. “A steel box?” The man blinked, giving his partner’s knee a fond squeeze. “Uh, I do not think that would be so effective, we don’t know his strength. He could just get out of it, i’d have to find out more about him first…” Shook his head, “No, neither of you are going to do anything, not now. We’d have to be smarter, and seek assistance from people more experienced in taking down psychopathic… Things.”

He became suddenly acutely aware of where they were, and what they discussed. “Ok, this topic needs to end. Here, and now, with a promise that it will be discussed at a later date, in a safer place. For now, eat your food, talk about something normal for ONCE and Vi, i’ll drop you home. We can talk in the car, all of us, about what has happened and what will be happening.” There was a ring of authority to his voice, a strength and certainty that hadn’t been there before and left little room to argue. He hadn’t intended it, and looked mildly uncomfortable in response, lifting the cup of drink and sipping it slowly to give his mouth something to do.


<Grey Weston> “Hell of an accident,” he opined dryly. Vienna’s word choice was a touch too diplomatic for his taste. An ‘accident’ implied something trivial; a minor annoyance or inconvenience. One usually didn’t consider an “accident” something with the power to shake their world off its axis. He fixed her with a look a moment later, expression dripping disapproval for a split second before it strayed to her fingers, shifting into something more abashed as they dexterously pulled the churro apart. He turned his attention to the cooling basket of fries, carefully selecting one from the center. It carried the last few vestiges of heat; steam curling from the cheese. His teeth sank into one crisp end more sharply than necessary a split second later.

“How long have you known?” He asked lowly. His tone was measured, though it did little to disguise the tightness that entered it as he flicked his gaze to Kaspar. Ordinarily, the squeeze against his knee would have been comforting. He nearly flinched from it. It was pointless to chide Vienna. The decision to enlighten her about the exact nature of those who called Harper Rock home had been his. It didn’t matter that vampires were, for the moment, largely the minority. He’d dragged her straight to hell; left her unweathered. “It wouldn’t matter if he did,” he shrugged a moment later. “The weight would drag him to the bottom. Even if he were capable of getting out, I’m sure there are plenty of nasties that’d be looking for an easy meal. It’s why we’d drop his *** outside of Harper Rock.”

He met Vienna’s gaze at last, his own steady. “I’ve killed them before,” he said at last, deliberately avoiding Kaspar’s gaze. “The first one was a fluke.” He paused. “Kaspar’s right,” he said at last, despite the expression of distaste it threatened to incur from Vienna. “No,” he said abruptly, cutting off the suggestion mid-sentence. “We’ll drop her off at a hotel. The last thing we need is to give him easy access to her. She can stay there while we figure out…” He exhaled. “What to do next.”

[Kaspar]

<Vienna Torres> The look she cast toward Kaspar at Grey's question was almost apologetic. She had been the one to ask him to keep his silence, knowing all the while how Grey would take that - but no. She'd done nothing wrong. He'd been the one who'd chosen to tell Grey, even though he'd promised her. If she'd been the one to tell Grey, she could have kept him out of it entirely. So this was all on him.

She wasn't sure what surprised her more: that she agreed with Kaspar or that he seemed to want to be helpful. This was the wrong place to talk about secrets, with the chance that Trahir might hear about it. Later. She'd have questions for both of them - why Kaspar had told Grey, how exactly Grey had killed a vampire as a fluke.

She was still thinking over the implications of Grey's words - it took her a moment to hear the meaning of Grey's last comment addressed toward Kaspar.

"No!" She scowled at Grey. "I'm not going."

Trahir knew about her family, and nd;ghd; ‘ she wasn't in any immediate danger. Why did they both think that she was just so - so helpless? She knew Trahir better than they did, and she'd survived two weeks without their interference.

She was not just going to let Grey tuck her away in a corner - especially since Grey seemed to have forgotten that the last time he'd played hero, he'd gotten shot. An injury he still wasn't completely recovered from.

"Besides, we are not talking about this right now, remember?" Shooting Grey a glare, she wiped crumbs off of her hand and picked up her churro - now much reduced in size.

“The churros are nice,” she told Kaspar pointedly. “Thanks.”

<Kaspar> He gave Grey a lingering, rather pointed look, hoping he’d take the cue and let it drop for now. They would most certainly be talking later. “I do not feel like taking her somewhere away will help, it is best she continues on as normal and continues to meet his wishes. That is the best course of action while we think over our options. Please, don’t act rashly this time. For her sake.” He meant it, not just trying to keep his boyfriend out of further trouble. He genuinely believed that the psycho idiot would pick up on changes in her behaviour, in her reactions. Best to keep her out of it all, really, they had no idea what he was capable of as far as abilities went.

Kaspar wasn’t particularly interested in finding out through experience.

“You two need to learn to calm down and think before you act, yes? You both jump in, without a thought. It is crazy.” He grumbled, reaching for one of the fries and popping it into his mouth. Chewing in silence he contemplated how best to explain to them that their reactionary nature only brought more pain on themselves, but how could he? It was just that, it was their nature. His expression warred between pouting and thoughtful, his brow creased. “Just shutup, and eat.” It was his intention to sit in silence unless he was forced otherwise until it was time to go. He had a lot to contemplate, Kaspar happy enough to retreat into his thoughts, not really caring if the others followed suit. It always came down to this, Kaspar ensuring Vienna got home safe, and trying to stop Grey from acting without thought so that he’d inevitably try to sneak off and get himself involved. It seemed they were doomed to repeat the vicious cycle.