Golden Shadows [Open]

[Krepta]

The sprawling property of the Verondi Household was quieter than it had been in many months. No rosy cheeked couples strolled the lush, poplar studded lawns, no brooding, errant youth toiled in the house gardens; only the wind through the leave stirred, a brisk spring wind that held the moist promise of rain. The only sound was the hushing stir of dead leaves, a testament to the glorious red and gold crowns the trees bore the year before. There was nothing on them but modest buds now though, and a few trembling leaves.

Still, if one looked carefully, they might see shapes stirring in the gloom beneath the great pines that ringed the property. One, a stern, solid shape, strong back, darkness against darkness. He strode with ridged purpose, a dignified creature with dark eyes and a hard line of a mouth. He was dressed for company, not leisure, a simple gray suit, the color of angry clouds, a crisp, dull red tie, and a fedora that matched his suit and perched proudly upon his head. His shoes shone with a dark polish, as immaculate as the rest of him, despite the wet dew that beaded on the grass he tread upon.

Another shape moved beside him, this one more fluid, but no less powerful. Thick muscle rippled and flexed beneath rich golden and cream fur, a proud coat marred only by a spattering of coal black spots, as if someone had dipped the pads of their fingers in ink and marked the creature all over. He was a leopard, and his eyes shone with the bright emerald fire that all his kind carried. His name was Susa, and his master, who strode beside him, was Maximus, the inscription on the ruby studded collar around the animal's muscular neck paid testament to that fact.

Maximus, man and vampire both, seemed almost to be waiting for someone, or perhaps, something. Susa could sense his impatience, and it made the great wildcat restless. More than once, the leopard strayed from the man's side to chase a rabbit or two, and once he even caught one, dispatching it with a swift snap of his jaws. He never strayed far, though, and always returned to his master's side. It felt like there was pressure building in the air, like the almost palpable tension that came before a storm. But what could it be?

Maximus stared hard-eyed into the distance. His eyes were a shade of honey brown, several shades lighter than his typical nearly-black brown. He was hungry. It had been a while since he had last fed, and beyond that, he was just as restless as his companion. Still, that much would have to wait until later. Right now, there was something very important he had to be tending to. If only he could remember what it was...

[cromag410]

Footsteps echoed as they hit the ground. The telltale sound of boots stepping upon trailless grounds. Though the sound was muffled, as if the person was skilled but relaxed. Subconscious placement of weight and foot placement didn't hide their approach but made it difficult. The animals easily detected whomever it was though, birds flew, squirrels ran, and rabbits bounded away. Whomever it was was enjoying a leisure stroll through the garden, even at the expense of those within the garden.

A lone figure was soon visible through the treeline that lined the garden area. Long legs moving easily through tall grass and being sure to avoid any areas where obvious care and tending had taken place. Tall form soon stood still and a flicker of light was soon, smoke rose, then the light vanished to leave the smoke. Bernhardt soon arrived within the slight illumination of the Garden, grumbling as the light hit his flesh. After so many years he thought this would be wonderful, but he found that the light still annoyed him. Not as much as in his world, but still irritated him. Trench coated figure moved once more. Mouth curled around a long and fat cigar, smell of tobacco and vanilla filled the air around him.

That wasn't the only thing that surrounded him. There was some kind of.....aura about him. It was dark, predatory, and dangerous, as if he was some kind of beast of legend. The animals around him flew in terror when his feet hit the ground and he even had a hint of heading at them. A dark chuckle eminated from him as he reached up to readjust his hat, casting a larger shadow on that brutish, yet hawkish face of his. Ice blue eyes scanned the area about him, whilst his nose sniffed. It was evident that he picked up the scent of somebody's pet, and blood. Someone's pet had been bad, though he could only hear one set of out-of-the-norm heartbeat. Sounded like some kind of large cat. Heightened eyes scanned hte horizon as he moved through the garden.

[Krepta]

Maximus was still as the tide of fleeing wildlife passed him, a testament to their newest arrival. His expression as he watched was of a man in no hurry, an individual comfortable in his own domicile, his own place of power, but there was a faint flicker of annoyance there as well. Someone was in his garden. He could hear the birds in their cages, distressed at their inability to escape, as well as their mewls, howls, and whines of the other animals in his menagerie. He turned on his heels and moved towards the commotion, though he did not speed up his pace, moving leisurely over the grounds.

At last he came to his personal gardens. A sprawling paradise of flowers, fragrant herbs, and bountiful fruit trees. There was a humming, fluttering sound from the back, where the zoo cages were. It was the sound of hundreds of wings beating frantically at once as his birds tried to escape their cages, blind in their panic. Susa growled, and the vampire reached a pale, strong fingered hand down to comfort him, though there was a deep, angry scowl on his face that set his features into an even harsher countenance than usual.

"You there," he growled at last. His eyes fell on the other vampire. He had not bothered to will them back to brown, and they blazed with a violent golden light. He doubted the other man was mortal anyhow. "This is private property." His voice held a booming authority to it, and it carried well over the flowers and benches and winding paths to the stranger. Within their cages, the birds quieted, almost stilling completely, though the occasional twitter of distress could still be heard.

He uttered something soft to Susa, then left his pet where he was and moved off towards the other, still moving with slow confidence, though his great strides ate up the ground before him despite his calm pace. The great cat flattened his ears and growled, but his Master had commanded. He would wait, but he wouldn't like it. Pointedly, the spotted feline showed his teeth at the man in a great, hissing breath that coiled like smoke up into the cool dawn air.

"If," Maximus continued, "You have just arrived, they would be happy to receive you at the barn or the house, but this garden, my garden, is off limits." At least, it was without special permission. He liked to punish those unfortunate enough to have erred in his presence with manure duties, or perhaps with the unpleasant duty of feeding his carnivores, though Lucien preferred to do that. Still, the meat wasn't always store bought, so to speak, and nothing drove home obedience like watching a young tiger chewing on a few fingers.

[cromag410]

Bern walked through the garden, stepping around areas that looked to be where one had planted a large amount of flowers. As well as stepping between fruit trees. Though his ears did catch the sound of footsteps and a heartbeat near him, which drew his attention. Bernhardt breathed in deeply, then sighed, it was not a needed action but one to show a little bit of gratitude. It had been a while since he arrived in Timber Ridge and nobody had greeted him when he landed. Leaving him to wander and explore at his own devices.

His own head lifted up, baring that german face of his to the flecks of light within the shadows of the trees. Bern heard the instant still as everything calmed down, even with that pure predatory presence that he gave off. This made him smile, and smile wide. White human teeth shown through as he walked towards Maximus. Soon he was hailed and he was talked to. Stopping within about a few yards of the other he nodded. "Hallo to yerself, young one." German accent leaked out ontop of a deep, yet raspy voice. Ice blue eyes looked unblinkingly into Maximus' eyes. Max would get the feeling that he was not only looking into history, but he was looking into the eyes of a primal and apex predator. "I do apologize, I sat under a tree in the yard, but it appeared your subjects, as I assume you're atleast someone of worth here, were busy." Eyes looked over to where Susa sat and he smirked.

Alas he closed his eyes and sighed once more, the great and old vampire stood before Maximus in silence as he awaited any orders or commands. After two thousand years, vampires never changed. Humans changed constantly, yet Vampires were doomed to be who they were as who they are. Bern wasn't an exception though, but he could atleast realize this. "My name is Bernhardt Schwerenfaust, people call me Berny." Chuckle was given as he moved forward, merely tapping into his speed. Appearing to blur before appearing within armslength of Max with his hand outstretched. As strong as Max was, age had merely made Bern stronger and he wanted him to know this.

[Krepta]

Maximus looked upon the other with cool disdain, though he did not reply directly to either comment. He was confident enough in his abilities that he had no need for silly power games, and truly, beyond that, he had no time to participate in some great pissing circle with another vampire. Still, it looked like that wasn't going to be his choice--- not if he wanted this new comer to respect his authority. Mentally, he sighed, and thought he could feel the touch of a migraine coming on already. Some things never changed.

"I am the Master of this estate," he replied, his voice icy. "And the the territories that surround it, and you would do well to show some respect." He bit the last word off, sharply. He did not yet offer his name, nor extend his own hand to accept the other's, and though his voice was full of cold anger, his features remained stoic.

He turned away then, striding over to one of the bird cages as if the man were of no consequence and posed no danger to him. There he began to soothe the birds within one by one, letting the garden steep in the brooding silence that came with his actions.

At last, though, he spoke again, turning to rest those glittering amber eyes on the other vampire once again. "Furthermore, we do not tolerate strays." The wind whispered nervously around his feet, stirring the long grass. "You may oath yourself to me or you may find yourself another territory beyond Timbre Ridge. Those are your options."

Again, he turned, this time moving to a larger set of cages on the opposite path. He had some hunting hawks that needed feathers imped back in. "If you refuse you will be killed." He finished his threat as casually as one might say, 'I like my coffee black,'. Normally he was much friendlier to new arrivals, but this young upstart had won no favor with him thusfar, and it was important to put him in his place now before things escalated. The world of vampires seemed to be one big dominance game at times--- truly it was tiring. He promised himself he would make some hot tea later to make it up to himself.

[cromag410]

Bernhardt looked back upon Maximus. Ice blue eyes returned that cool disdain right back at Maximus. Berny was a bit impressed with the much, much shorter and lighter man. Eyes looking back into the eyes of Maximus as he awaited a response. A small smirk crossing over his lips as he watched the other vampire move about and utterly dismiss him. A usual ploy by those in power to seem more important than what they were.

"It's a pleasure to meet the owner." Though his eyes widened at the snapping word of respect. Head tilted and cracked his neck as he was talked down to. Head returning to it's previous position, not scared to show his own fair amount of annoyance as he was talked to as if he was one day old. Ice blue eyes watching his movements.

Nod was given as he heard the words of Maximus, listening intently to him talking and taking in his movements and actions. If the wind stirred nervously at Maximus' feet, it completely avoided Bernhardt. As if Bern was some kind of object it couldn't touch. Growl was finally given as he clenched his hand. "Who the fuck do you think I am?" Question was given and dripping with venom. Aura started to flare and spread that predatory and fearful presence. Ice blue eyes flared with more annoyance than anger.

Looking upon him as he spoke once more. German accent never leaving those words of his. "Boy, I am two THOUSAND years old! I watched Rome fall, I tore apart Russian, American, British, and French forces, TWICE!!!" Growl given as he stared determinedly upon Maximus. "Kill me? How the fuck could you? You're what? A hundred? Two? Maybe even Four? Boy, step back and respect your fuckin' elder. I didn't come here waging war, or threatening you. I will not bend my knee to a pitiful ant, and I sure as fuck won't roll over and die!"

[Krepta]

Maximus allowed his out power to roll outward, unseeing, but certainly not unfelt. "Insolence," he snarled, face twisting suddenly into a frightening parody of itself. The wind around him moaned in response. He stepped forward, and Susa licked his lips behind him, suddenly eager. The power pressed down around him, falling upon the other with concussive force. "I will not tolerate disrespect to me in my own territory."

The birds huddled in their cages, mute in their terror. All around them shadows bled into the bright, sunny day around them, but did not touch them, not yet, at least. Quite suddenly he blinked from sight-- perhaps a trick of the mind, or perhaps he was simply that quick. He flickered back into sight on the left of Bernhardt, leg sweeping out to hook around the other's, intending to knock him to the ground. The rest of him twisted, hand flashing out to grab a fistful of hair to force him in the direction he wanted him to go, which was face down in the dirt.

"Do not," he hissed into his ear once he was near, "Make me prove myself. You would not enjoy it."

With a hint of annoyance, he noted the approach of Lucien from the Farmhouse, and his lip curled. It seemed he would have to teach this new comer the meaning of humility, and, well, that was Lucien's job, wasn't it? It was almost a pity-- he was almost enjoying himself. "You will calm yourself and express remorse for your actions, and you will do so now. The Devil quite enjoys his work, and I am not feeling very charitable today." His voice had calmed again considerably, but there was still a hint of a feral growl to it, a dark rumble at the edges, like the sound of a distant storm. "Learn your place now and I will decide the punishment for your actions. Refuse me again and I shall ensure that you are well and truly broken before you die. We will start, I think, by burying you."

He curled his lip again, a glitter of sharp fang in the growing darkness. "But," he said quietly, "This is your choice. I suggest you choose well. My patience runs thin." He would not fight with the other vampire. He was confident in his own abilities, but he was also wise enough not to let foolish pride get in the way of his continued rulership. A Warren that hunted together, stayed together, after all. And that was exactly what would happen. He would allow Bernhardt to go free, and then he would proceed, along with the rest of his vampires, to hunt him down and run him into the ground to die like a dog.

Again, Susa stirred, nostrils quivering as he waited impatiently at the edge of the fight. He was hungry, and perhaps if he was good, Master would give him treats. Treats usually came with the Fight-Scent, crunchy, meaty treats. He rumbled again, almost starting forward, barely able to contain his excitement.

[themascura]

Lucien felt the rumble of power like a soul-deep summons. He let his head loll back, golden hair shining in the sunlight. His nostrils flared, inhaling the deep scent of the darkness that grew insidiously in the forest. The sudden darkness smelled of rage... a newcomer's, and that of the man who owned this land. The one man who told Lucien what to do, and whom commanded Lucien's respect. Respect was a hard emotion to evoke in a psychopath, but Maximus had made that happen. He licked his lips and smiled, angelic expression belying the inhumane thirst for pain and blood that drove him. He hopped from his little chair next to the farm, where he had been cheerfully practicing whittling, and strode in the direction of Maximus's gardens, toothy smile on his face.

The piece of wood he had been whitling fell from his fingers, tumbling slowly toward the earth, end over end. It landed in the sea of grass with a muffled thump, forgotten. Lucien would likely never return for it. It would lie alone until nature tore it down and absorbed it back into the soil that was the fountain of all life.

"Maximus!" He purred as he approached, muscles moving beneath his silver-pinstripe jacket and cream-colored shirt. He moved with a jaunty sort of grace, a toothy smile on his face. Something glittered beneath the humor in his blue eyes, something... inhumane... almost monstrous.

"We have a guest!" He beamed, showing more teeth than what was necessary, "Is there anything I can help with?" He came to a halt a respectful distance from the elder vampire and gazing at him expectantly and hopefully.

[Avenant]

He could smell the rain - in the sky, yet to fall, and in the subtle pungency of the wet grass that bowed and kinked underfoot. The damp earth-loam scent hooked his olfactory sense, made his toes curl - a sudden heartsick ache to be out of the stifling confines of sock and shoe. To feel the kiss of ground unblemished by civilization. Connell already approved of where the patriarch of the Verondi family had agreed to meet him. Though he supposed the man didn't get to where he was today, the unofficial king of this rough-hewn little kingdom, by leaving any detail to chance.

The trip from Warlia was briefer than the stocky shopkeep had liked, his ground-eating tread already pacing him just inside the grounds of the estate. Dressed in his business attire, it matched the forced nature of his purpose here. The restless nature of his baser half called to him, imporing him to seek the vital chase of predator after prey. Hidden behind the pervasive clouds, the moon must be waxing. Instead, his time was mired in underhanded dealings. He viewed this as nothing less. But when a solution was demanded of him, a solution he'd find, regardless of whether it was found on the wings of angels or at the end of the devil's outstretched hand. The realist in him demanded he check for the latter before the former.

He made no attempt to disguise his approach; he smelled little out of place. He was the only creature that deigned stir, it seemed. Out of place, in and of itself. No. There! He felt a sharp pang, in his chest, his breath hitching. He could taste death, the man stopping abruptly, head lifting. Eyes pierced the the shadows beneath the shadows, and stole their secrets. A rabbit, following an invisible path known only to its panic-fueled terror, cut across his own, the creature indistinct and quickly fading. He smelled blood... Verondi must have his cat with him. Wonderful. Connell's pace adjusted, growing cautious given that bit of information.

Nearing the estate's gardens, he'd no doubt that to disguise or try and hide himself would prove asinine at best, and be insulting at worst, so he made no effort to conceal his presence. Fabric drew tight across his shoulders as he lifted his arms, removing his hat. He held it, rim in both hands, over his stomach. He came to a sudden stop, as he heard voices, coming into view of the two men conversing several yards in front of him. Content for the moment to wait; maybe he'd learn something of the two, as-yet wordlessly looking on. After all... he only knew Master Verondi by reputation, and knew absolutely nothing of his aggressive counterpart. The man did spare an occasional glance behind himself, a gutteral sense of unease cramping his innards.

As moments dragged into minutes, Connell began to regret his passive stance. He felt a palpable chill, in spite of the constant temperature. He'd distractedly lift one hand off of his hat, to loosen his shirt collar, the garment beginning to adopt a restrictive, strangling quality that he misliked. The sullen gray of the stormclouds, standing their deathwatch above, was only darkening. How... appropriate. The similarity quirked a strange smile across his features, striking him as, of all things, funny. But there was nothing funny about how this new person's voice had continued to raise. Connell's guts felt like they were in knots, the back of his throat dry.... and the only thing he'd learned was that the situation at hand was fast growing untenable, yet -another- vampire nearing.

Enough, already. A situation out of his hands was one he didn't care for, so it was time to at least try and salvage it. The lone mortal, acutely aware of his mortality at the moment, cleared his throat and took a measured step forward. "Gentlemen." He said with a deferential nod, at once announcing his presence and imploring the three to remember that they were supposedly just that.

[cromag410]

Blink was given as Max himself blinked. Berny shook his head as he could have sworn that Max was only a few hundred years old! Bern did not panic as he knew that panic ruined a fight, heightened senses were tapped into and his aura flared like a trapped mouse. Bern's species of vampire prided themselves in hiding, hunting, fighting, and terrifying. Noktuku's lineage and abilities were anything but clean. Though he lost track of Max, especially with the terrified heartbeats of the birds, the waiting form of Susa and the sounds of others coming to their location.

Bern didn't have time to turn about before he felt his leg taken out and his face shoved into the dirt. Max was far too old for any of his Nightmare tricks, but any that were susceptible to mind tricks and the abilities of the supernatural would see a creature of their worst nightmares. Others that had phobias of heights, emotions, or such would see a shapeless yet shaped form. A darkness and evil that would suck them in and draw out this panic. Growl was given as he was placed into the dirt. "NEVER! I VILL NEVER APOLOGIZE!" Words shouted out, that deep bass voice filling the air. Growl given as he looked up as he turned his head in Max's grip.

Ice blue eye looked straight at Max as he laid there, defiance and disgust in his eye. "Zjew are nosink but an easily irritable man!" Brows furrowed as he huffed. "I vill admeet dat zjew are older zan I zought. For zat I am sorry, but apologize for not bendink my knee? Never." Words were spoken as he looked straight at Max. "Just because I do not swear fealty, doesn't mean I'm here to defy you. Ze more you fight me, zough, ze more likely I am to defy you and seek help!" Words were spoken coldly, not calmly, but definitely coldly.

[Krepta]

For the moment Max ignored the Werewolf. His attention was on the squirming man beneath his clenched fist. He growled, tightening his grip on the man's hair and twisting ever just so as he pressed him harder into the dirt. He had never met an animal he couldn't tame, and that was exactly what this... creature was, an animal.

Part of him wanted to put him down, to end this annoyance once and for all. Yes, and annoyance, but also a threat. He was not so prideful nor naive to believe that he wasn't. The man reeked of death, of fear, and a force like that loose in Timbre Ridge would be disastrous, particularly with this man's lack of self control. He could kill him, and that would be that. His grip tightened, grinding the man's face painfully into the earth. He could... But there was potential here as well, and Maximus was nothing if not an opportunist.

He relaxed his grip on the back of the other vampire's head, though did not relinquish his hold just yet. He was no fool. He knew, though he was much older than the other, that there was still plenty chance that he could do damage here, either to him or the others around them. Despite the Pack's blatant sense of distaste towards them, they were under his rulership, and thus under his protection.

"Lucien, bring me the chains I use for the big cats," he rumbled darkly. He still had not replied to the other vampire, but now he jerked back on his hair, his other hand moving to deftly force his hands behind his back before binding him at the wrist in an almost-painful grip. Now, at last, he replied. "I will not kill you, fool. Not yet. You may wish I had ended your pitiful existence before the day is through, though. I am not a force to be trifled with, nor do I appreciate your seemingly boundless arrogance. This is my Warren, and my lands, and if I must hurt you to make you understand that, you can be very sure that I will."

Only now did he bring his attention back to his Werewolf guest. For a moment, he seemed to stare blankly at the other, as if he couldn't see past the golden haze that was his gaze. At last, though, he let out a quiet, calming breath from his nose, a soft whoosh of air that took the amber hues of his eyes with it, returning them to the dark chocolate brown they usually were. "Ah, The Shepard," he said in a pleasant voice. The corner of his lip twitched, twisting upward just so, as if he were trying not to chuckle. "I was wondering when you might arrive. I am sorry I was distracted and not able to greet you properly."

His grip on the back of the vampire's arms tightened visibly, but the Emperor held his composure. "We were just dealing with a small intruder problem. All is well. Please," he soothed, "Have a seat." There were several ornate stone benches lining the inner path of the garden, placed around the central fountain in a neat little circle. He nodded to one, then shifted his weight to better contain his captive. "I will be with you once we have dealt with our pest problem. Can Lucien get you something to drink or eat? You must be famished after your journey. Lucien, send one of The Lovers to fetch him something."

Despite his jovial tone, there was no doubt that this show of dominance over the vampire was for him as well. Was Maximus trying to impress him? Doubtful. More likely it was a silent warning, a display of what happened to those who crossed him. No doubt he knew that the Werewolf would deliver news of the encounter to his Alpha. Maximus, after all, was nothing if not an opportunist.

[themascura]

Lucien's face fell a little when Maximum manhandled the strange not-vampire himself. Normally such enjoyable little tasks fell to him. A shame, a shame. He shook his head sadly and strode off, employing his vampyric speed to rush to the storage room and gather the armful of heavy chains and thick cuffs. They clanked akwardly in his arms as he gathered them up, stuffing them into the crooks of his elbows until they no longer dangled beneath his feet and in front of his knees. He ran back with them, settling them on the ground and beginning to sort them out, one from the other. When that was done he quietly presented the untangled chains to Maximus, pure envy in his eyes. In many ways, Lucien resembled and acted like one of Maximus's big cats. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Maximus handled him so well.

There was a second stranger he had not at first noticed now. His attention was drawn the lycanthrope when his employer commanded he fetch one of the Lovers to wait upon him. The inhuman expression of longing and hunger disappeared suddenly beneath the guise of a friendly, helpful giant. He bowed once in the direction of his Master, and once again in the direction of the Shepard.

"Right away." He assented, moving quickly back to the bar to fetch Connor. He alerted Sandra and Steele on his way through, letting them know about both the troublesome newcomer and the werewolf. Connor was easy enough to locate, and willing enough to follow him back to the garden to tend to the werewolf's needs. It was, after all, what Connor did for the club.

The red-blonde Irish-man presented himself at the werewolf's side and beamed in his friendliest manner, offering a hand as he did so.

"M'name's Conner. Nice tae make yer aquaintance." He introduced himself.

[Avenant]

Connell was as silent as the grave that Maximus had threatened this new arrival with. The twist of his innards at the sudden, violent explosion of supernaturally-enhanced motion made the action hard for him to follow. He was sure that the only thing that kept him intact, inside, was the numbing, congealed fear that padded his guts. He was impressed, though he quickly affected the same businesslike veneer that he'd adopted at the outset. Problem... sidestepped. Not quite averted. Con was keenly aware that he could smell fear-sweat, somewhere nearby. He rather hoped that he wasn't the source. Dully, the back of his brain felt like it was taking on a pulse of its own, the still-distant thrum of an oncoming migraine giving him coy forewarning. They always started that way. He allowed himself a small, inward sigh. There was always something.

He cleared his throat, the sound practical - his mouth had, at some point in the brief scuffle, gone completely dry - as he was spoken to, a respectful nod ensconced in a brief, subtle bend of his waist, given. "Very... demonstrative, Mister Verondi. Pleased t' finally make your acquaintance.", he said as he moved to the proffered bench. A certain care was chosen, steps placed in such a vaguely circuitous manner, as to give the two vampires and Verondi's big cat a wide berth. No... three vampires, now, though the third one's tenure was brief. "I hope that man was not also here on invitation." He lifted a hand from his side to gesture expansively down at the foreigner. A bit of levity. Regardless, Connell did not envy Bernhardt, even though Maximus had decided not to end him.

He found the night-cooled stone of the bench... brisk, as he sat. A mentally collecting chill, that did much to cut through his fear. His mind was still setting a frenetic pace, all to the subtle beat of the migraine nested deep in the back of his skull. He tried to abolish that distraction. He could little afford it. The efficacy of the master Vampire's servants again impressed him. It made him wonder if what he was doing here was wise. A quick glance spared, double-checking that the other three in the garden were busied with the chains and their application, and Connell's posture relaxed. His elbows came to rest on his knees as he leaned forward, setting his hat on the bench next to him as his fingertips rubbed gingerly at his temples. The rude rattle of the thick lengths of chain being unwound demanded attention he simply deigned not give, though he was struck by a certain similarity. The chains weren't real, the ones cast by the Warren over his own people, but they were felt all the same.

As Connor spoke, the werewolf's head turned sharply. He'd not sensed the man's approach. Extending a hand, he was already addressing the server. "Connell." He said simply, clasping the other's hand. "Bit o' the old country, I hear? East side o' the isle?" He guessed, his own voice lapsing briefly back into the accent he'd devoted what felt like an eternity to erasing. "And can I trouble you for a few aspirin, and some water?" He added, re-adopting his accentless tone. Connell would wait patiently, and watch. Despite the dull ache in the back of his mind he had patience to spare. Maximus didn't seem like the sort you'd want to interrupt.

[cromag410]

Growled loudly as he felt his face rubbed into the dirt. Lucien was a large man, and so was Bern. Both of them were large muscular giants. Though when Bern was lifted and his back was bent painfully to make a show, he moved quickly. Lifting a leg up and pushing off of it powerfully while twisting he attempted to push Max off balance and twist out of his grip. Vampire did not care if he ripped hair out and more than likely still had flesh and scalp attached to it. That would grow back. Vampire would not move too far away, actually moving towards the Chains.

Mumbling all the while he made no movement to make eye contact with anyone, he merely walked towards where Lucien put the chains. Hands moved to remove his trench coat, which he threw at the feet of Max and it landed with a loud thud, landing much heavier than it should've. Growl given as he knelt by the chains and began to bind himself with his arms behind him. Binding himself the best he could before shimmying around to face the chains at Lucien. Since that was the vampire that was in charge of binding himself in the first place

Unruly blue black hair was free'd of the hat that laid upon the ground a few feet away, and his long beard was crusted with dirt in it. "Do not take zis for some kind of submission." Words spoken as he looked right at Maximus. "Zis is merely an apology and a realization." German accent was quite different than the Irish that was being thrown around. Smile was not on his face but he bowed his head, shaking it with grim defeat. Growling low in his throat as he sat there, a soft click clack sound was heard as a steady rhythm. If one looked, they would see shark teeth being extended and then retracted within his mouth.

That is where Bern would be if he was able to wrench free from Max. If the Germanic Barbarian was unable to free himself he would growl and shake his head. "Let me go!" Words spoken with loud and firm speech. "If anyvone is goink to chain me up, it shall be me!" Defiant eyes staring holes through Lucien. Strong vampire was being held down by a stronger vampire. Bern saw the futility of his situation now, though unwilling to admit that he was wrong or deserved any of this. "Also take my trench coat, it has various tools to help me escape as well as my broad sword and my M1911A1 pistol." Sigh given as he would finally relax in the grip of Max's hands. Accepting defeat, not submitting, but accepting this bitter defeat.

[Krepta]

Maximus would not let him go, and though he nearly lost his grip on his hair, and Bern may have lost a sizable chunk of it, his iron grip on his wrists behind him was true and sure. He very nearly stumbled, but Maximus worked with great-cats lion tigers and lions on a daily basis; if he didn't lose his balance when they squirmed, he certainly wasn't going to let the uppity German knock him over either. He braced his legs and growled into his ear, threatening and wordless.

"Oh no, my dear rebel, you are mine now. If you want to be free, then you will Oath yourself to me, else I will be giving the orders from now on." He motioned with one hand to Lucien. "They are the ones The Magician made?" Not long ago Maximus had begun using his big cats as punishment for the younglings that stayed with them. Most of the children were fine, a little rambunctious, but fine. His eternal headache had come in the form of the Adolescent Youth, particularly the Gifteds. They seemed to be afraid of nothing and no one, and worse, his men seemed completely unable, or worse, unwilling, to control them.

And so he had begun forcing those who had broken his rules to assist him in the garden with his animals. The grooming and feeding of the animals had at first delighted the children, but when they had been notified that they would not only be helping with the veterinary exams, but cleaning the cages with the animals still in them, suddenly, they were not so sure. And that was how Maximus wanted it.

Of course, it wouldn't do to have the children eaten. Wild animals were still wild animals, not matter how tame they became for him. So he had had the Magician fashion special cuffs and chains. The outside of the ensemble looked normal enough, and no doubt the german vampire thought he could break through them. However, though they didn't look it, each chain link was hollow, and on the inside of each, as well as the inner face of the cuffs, were Runes. They glowed faintly in the dim morning light, a delicate, barely visible sheen across the shadowed iron.

Now, Maximus was no expert in magic-- in fact, he knew very little of it and it's workings. That was what the Magician was for, so he didn't have to know these things. He had assured Maximus that the strength draining runes would work, and so they had. At first the tigers had fought them viciously, throwing themselves about their cages in an almost comic fashion. They were might beasts, truly, but slowly and surely the magic did it's work, and they began to grow sluggish, as if the chains that bound them were far too heavy for them. It took them several hours to adapt enough to move around in a normal fashion, but as long as the chains were on, they had no more strength than a newborn kitten. Of course, the ones cleaning their cages didn't need to know that...

Once Lucien had moved up to assist with the chains, he would allow the vampire enough room to shrug off the coat if he so wished. He was hardly worried about his guns and silly swords, as after the chains were in place he doubted he would be able to properly lift either. The coat would no doubt be uncomfortable with the chains in place, however, and though Maximus was stern, he was not cruel. The punishment would fit the crime, no more, no less. His purpose was to teach the other vampire humility, not rub his wrists raw. Even the cuffs, once in place would be only snug enough to prevent escape rather than causing anymore bruising or discomfort that having one's harms held forcefully behind their backs would cause.

Susa, over in his corner, was looking just as disappointed as Lucien was. It seemed he would not be getting Crunchy Snacks after all. The great spotted cat heaved a mournful sigh and rose to his feet. As long as he neither wandered off nor approached the prisoner, he would not be obeying orders. Besides, there were new things to attract his attention now! The man on the bench smelled of forest and earth, and most delightfully of fear.

Padding over, the muscular animal emitted a chuffing purr, sending hot breath boiling out into the cold air. He knew he could not bite or eat the man, but there was no harm in a taste, was there? Boldly, if he didn't move away, Susa rose up on his hind legs, placing his heavy forepaws on the lap of the man. He stared into his eyes for a moment and his own eyes were a contrast of mellow green and molten golds. Then, as if the big Irish Werewolf were merely a plaything or a treat, he ducked his head and began to lick one of his exposed hands with long, heavy strokes. No doubt with the backwards, tiny, fishhook like barbs covering the surface of the animal's tongue, his attentions were hardly comfortable.

[Ugh, sorry for the choppy writing in this one. The post was fighting me. @_@]