09-17-2013, 02:33 PM
[breaking post order because Vee would speak up, and I'm cool with keeping it broke it in favor of moving along a conversation, too!]
If Bertram thinks that silence is going to somehow salvage this situation, then he doesn't know the vampires with which he travels at all.
Which...he doesn't. And they don't know him. At least Vee, who only found out about the Brujah's existence when the trio of True Sabbat were called to the Temple, doesn't. All that Vee knows is what has been learned on this little road trip. A venture that has done absolutely nothing to create a bond between these disparate entities, let alone strengthen one.
No, all that Vee knows is that Bertram, in his attempt to discipline the Tzimisce childe, tried to send William tearing off into the wilderness, alone, injured, and possibly into the claws of waiting lupines. All Vee knows is that Bertram has been attempting to assert some sort of dominance over the Lasombra and the Tzimisce in his company, a pair not accustomed to taking orders from anyone, not even each other. Call it pride, call it a rebellious spirit, call it being willful Sabbat, call it what you will. That's just the way they are.
Vee looks up briefly from the work on the spine, from Brujah to what can be seen of Flood's shoulder and back down to that spine again. Those finely sweeping brows lift, and the Tzimisce pauses in showing the childe the finer points of making the bones of thine enemy into a weapon to be used against future enemies.
"All that talk before, and now silence?" The shaking of that lovely head display of disappointment. "The way I see it, Bertram, you now find yourself at a crossroads. You can of course leave," this tossed out with a flick of one pale, long-fingered hand, as if the every idea is so distasteful the Tzimisce simply must hurl it away from their person post-haste. Then, looking up at the Brujah with those eyes the icy blue of a snowdrift's shadow, continues. "Or you can try to work with us."
That head tipping curiously to the side, those eyes wide with that look so like innocence the fiend wears with terrifying ease, Vee says. "Tell me, which will be your choice?"
If Bertram thinks that silence is going to somehow salvage this situation, then he doesn't know the vampires with which he travels at all.
Which...he doesn't. And they don't know him. At least Vee, who only found out about the Brujah's existence when the trio of True Sabbat were called to the Temple, doesn't. All that Vee knows is what has been learned on this little road trip. A venture that has done absolutely nothing to create a bond between these disparate entities, let alone strengthen one.
No, all that Vee knows is that Bertram, in his attempt to discipline the Tzimisce childe, tried to send William tearing off into the wilderness, alone, injured, and possibly into the claws of waiting lupines. All Vee knows is that Bertram has been attempting to assert some sort of dominance over the Lasombra and the Tzimisce in his company, a pair not accustomed to taking orders from anyone, not even each other. Call it pride, call it a rebellious spirit, call it being willful Sabbat, call it what you will. That's just the way they are.
Vee looks up briefly from the work on the spine, from Brujah to what can be seen of Flood's shoulder and back down to that spine again. Those finely sweeping brows lift, and the Tzimisce pauses in showing the childe the finer points of making the bones of thine enemy into a weapon to be used against future enemies.
"All that talk before, and now silence?" The shaking of that lovely head display of disappointment. "The way I see it, Bertram, you now find yourself at a crossroads. You can of course leave," this tossed out with a flick of one pale, long-fingered hand, as if the every idea is so distasteful the Tzimisce simply must hurl it away from their person post-haste. Then, looking up at the Brujah with those eyes the icy blue of a snowdrift's shadow, continues. "Or you can try to work with us."
That head tipping curiously to the side, those eyes wide with that look so like innocence the fiend wears with terrifying ease, Vee says. "Tell me, which will be your choice?"