Vee's William, he has been so quiet since he's become a Cainite. There are some who might consider the behemoth a sort of Lenny, big and dumb and not possessed of a lot in the way of complex thought. They could easily be forgiven for thinking such, all things considered; the monstrosity doesn't exactly engender an aura of scholarliness and even when he does speak his decidedly blue-collar verbiage supports such a notion. The truth is different; William is not mentally slow in any way. He is simply watching and learning everything he can before he does something to embarrass his Sire.
However, there are times when he speaks before he thinks. His newness to being a vampire means that he is still struggling with his Beast and it is a constant battle not to give into his instincts. When the fight is done, that struggle is conceded without thinking about it and he delivers the implication that the Brujah—older than he, and True Sabbat where he isn't to boot—was cowardly in his actions during the fight. That results in Bertram bearing his formidable presence down on William to cow him.
As a human, the giant would have been easily cowed and in fact would have run off into the woods screaming to high heaven, where he might have become Lupine food. He has hardened just a bit as a Tzimisce though, and he shakes it off. Oh, it is still felt; Bertram, Flood and Vee can see it in the way his shoulders tighten up like braided iron, the way he very nearly drops the furry, modern art sculpture of blood and bone that was once an instrument of death for people like them. His fangs come down in the blink of an eye and he snarls, but it's not defiance; it's defensiveness. He doesn't run and he isn't cowed, but Bertram's will is impressed upon him and he stalks off with a bit of extra speed and tightly clenched fists.
"I can't fit in the fuckin' truck. The beds on those things are like five fuckin' feet by three feet tall, ya…" He bites off his words there, so as not to insult the Brujah further. He grunts and carries the body along, side detouring to grab the body of the woman that had been unceremoniously flung to the side. They get flung into the baggage compartment on the side as quickly as he can (he's ridden in one of these enough times to know about them) and he gives Flood an apologetic look as he leaves him to handle the tire. He has to get out of Bertram's presence, and the bus interior will provide sanctuary.
He steps onto the bus and peels off his blood- and gore-covered T-Shirt, letting the adults talk and make the decisions as to what to do from here. The man is a professional wrestler; he's used to being around people without a shirt on, and he has no desire to add to the bodily fluids that they can smell inside. On his way back to his seat he bellows in frustration, smashing his bloodied knuckles where his Bonecrafting attempt went so terribly wrong into one of the wall panels and, with his blood-heightened strength, denting it badly.
Yeah, he'll be covering whatever is taken out of the deposit for that. And what's more, he'll be apologetic about it to Flood and Vee once they're on their way. But his Beast doesn't care and right now, neither does he.
However, there are times when he speaks before he thinks. His newness to being a vampire means that he is still struggling with his Beast and it is a constant battle not to give into his instincts. When the fight is done, that struggle is conceded without thinking about it and he delivers the implication that the Brujah—older than he, and True Sabbat where he isn't to boot—was cowardly in his actions during the fight. That results in Bertram bearing his formidable presence down on William to cow him.
As a human, the giant would have been easily cowed and in fact would have run off into the woods screaming to high heaven, where he might have become Lupine food. He has hardened just a bit as a Tzimisce though, and he shakes it off. Oh, it is still felt; Bertram, Flood and Vee can see it in the way his shoulders tighten up like braided iron, the way he very nearly drops the furry, modern art sculpture of blood and bone that was once an instrument of death for people like them. His fangs come down in the blink of an eye and he snarls, but it's not defiance; it's defensiveness. He doesn't run and he isn't cowed, but Bertram's will is impressed upon him and he stalks off with a bit of extra speed and tightly clenched fists.
"I can't fit in the fuckin' truck. The beds on those things are like five fuckin' feet by three feet tall, ya…" He bites off his words there, so as not to insult the Brujah further. He grunts and carries the body along, side detouring to grab the body of the woman that had been unceremoniously flung to the side. They get flung into the baggage compartment on the side as quickly as he can (he's ridden in one of these enough times to know about them) and he gives Flood an apologetic look as he leaves him to handle the tire. He has to get out of Bertram's presence, and the bus interior will provide sanctuary.
He steps onto the bus and peels off his blood- and gore-covered T-Shirt, letting the adults talk and make the decisions as to what to do from here. The man is a professional wrestler; he's used to being around people without a shirt on, and he has no desire to add to the bodily fluids that they can smell inside. On his way back to his seat he bellows in frustration, smashing his bloodied knuckles where his Bonecrafting attempt went so terribly wrong into one of the wall panels and, with his blood-heightened strength, denting it badly.
Yeah, he'll be covering whatever is taken out of the deposit for that. And what's more, he'll be apologetic about it to Flood and Vee once they're on their way. But his Beast doesn't care and right now, neither does he.
"The anger of a good man is not a problem. Good men have too many rules."
"Good men don't need rules. And today's not the day to find out why I have so many."
"Good men don't need rules. And today's not the day to find out why I have so many."