"You say that now," says Max with much trepidation. "But, I feel like if you knew the whole story you might not be able to stick to that."
"Stick to what?" Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Erik makes his way toward their booth. He's changed his shirt and tie and lost a suit jacket since the last time Klement saw him. Fortunately, blood doesn't show up on black trousers noticeably. The casual way in which he strolls to them shows no hints that not so long ago, he'd been engaged with tearing out the throat of his enemies.
"What an interesting coincidence this is," says the vampire cooly, "the two of you meeting here."
"M-master!" Max jumps up at attention and dips a bow for his vampire lord. "I'm happy you are safe."
"Yes, Max. As I am glad to see you safe as well. But, I am also very surprised by the company you keep." The vampire's gaze slides to Klement. "Mr. Devereux, I am relieved to see you are well. I must apologize for how our business was interrupted." He makes it sound as casual as if he'd simply take a call.
Hazel eyes flicker from Max's cautious words of warning and towards the other familiar smoothness of the voice now joining them. It's a tone that forces Klement to sit up a bit straighter out of habit – not all clients can be treated so casually unless a long bond has formed, after all – poised and professional as if they were to continue their business here at the lonely booth in a lonely Denny's.
"Mr. Osborne," the Antiquary greets, also getting to his feet with practiced grace to properly welcome the master back after their previous meeting. He does notice the difference in Erik's wardrobe, but he feels it's for the better since having obvious blood stains in the early hours of morning will still bring about many questions from strangers.
Although he pauses when Erik introduces Max as his 'pet,' he still smiles, nodding in confirmation. "It is also good to see you are doing well," comes his reply without hesitation, gesturing for all of them to sit again so that they wouldn't be standing around awkwardly. "Please, there is no need to apologize, sir. Business tends to come with some surprises, after all.
"And Mr. Maximum has been wonderful company tonight – to be honest, I did not think anyone would be here, considering the time."
Erik inclines his head politely when Klement stands to greet him. This is one thing that makes the Antiquary so pleasant to do dealings with, he has the proper respect for decorum.
"Yes, I had the same notion. Which is why I instructed Max to wait for me here. Great minds think alike, it seems."
Erik slides gracefully into the booth. Max sits down beside him, pressing in close enough that their thighs touch beneath the table. That brings a momentary pitying smile to the Vampire's face. Max had obviously been fretting, he still smelled strongly of fear.
Erik pats Max's arm, above the table where Klement can see. "Yes, Max is incredibly good at making fast friends."
Nothing in Erik's tone or demeanor really seems to perceptibly change, and yet, it's as if the temperature in the room has dropped a degree, "And, it seems he's already gotten quite comfortable speaking with you about certain personal topics."
Through the connection of their thighs, Erik can feel the muscles in Max tense. The human's eyes cast down to the table immediately, as if he's been harshly reprimanded.
Klement sits down once they get comfortable (or as comfortable as a master and pet can get in the presence of company), blissfully unaware of the cues that are happening under the table. The arm-pat he does notice, taking it into account as Erik replies to his earlier commendations.
While he knows the air-conditioning units are always on in some restaurants, he can't help but feel a chill run down his spine. His expression, however, mentions nothing of it, letting his gaze linger between Max and Erik before speaking again.
"Then I should apologize, Mr. Osborne. I believe I am at fault for getting into such details," he insists, hands spread with his palms open as they hover inches above the tabletop. "Having you as a connection was unexpected at best, and it was only natural to be worried when you disappeared shortly after our meeting ended prematurely." His palms are then gently pressed together in asking for forgiveness. "My curiosity piques where it should not, and scenes like the one tonight have a way of staying fresh in memory."
"Of course," says Erik genially, "I'm sure after all of that, your curiosity couldn't help but be piqued. I do not hold it against you." He pats Max's arm again, as if to imply the words are meant for both of them.
Max lets out a slow breath and seems to relax again. He reaches for his coffee to take a sip and grimaces. It's still just as burnt but now it's also cold.
"I think," adds Erik, "we might be better off if we tried to forget what we saw in that warehouse. I do hope it won't keep us from doing business in the future?"
The corner of his mouth twitches slightly. Sadly, he can't help Max there with cold coffee.
Yet Klement perks, his attention unwavering as he nods. "Oh– oh yes, indeed. We never have to bring the incident up again." It just goes in the pile of other incidents he's had happen during the growth of his careers, mostly left alone until someone decides to bring it back to the forefront.
Most likely his father. That will be another issue to deal with later, however.
His hands clasp together. "Mr. Osbourne, I am more than happy to continue our business relationship," he says. "You have a keen eye and great respect for antiquities and the like, and I only wish more clients understood the value in collecting and preservation."
"Good. This is why I like doing business with you. I can count on your discretion. And you have a knack for flattery as well," though the vampire looks quite pleased by the praise. "I'll be sure to forward to you a few more of the choice pieces I am hunting for."
Just like that, the matter is put to bed.
Max breathes another shallow sigh. He's just as happy to put all this in the rear-view mirror as the rest of them. Now, if only he could put this restaurant there too. He fidgets slightly in his seat. Erik, ever attuned to his Pet's moods, picks up on that.
"But, alas, the hour is late. So, I think that shall have to conclude our business for now. Perhaps you will come by my home sometime in the near future? We may have more to discuss." An invitation to a vampire's abode is both an honor and a dangerous proposition. What will Klement decide?
On the inside, Klement isn't entirely sure how he should feel about that. His training in the business did do something to raise the levels of flattery he exudes from time to time, and like dancing along the edge of a knife he's been careful enough to not lay it on thick. This meeting, like most of the others he's attended, reminds him that he's still remains on the 'safe' side of that talent.
Now, perhaps because of the hour, he barely remembers the thing about inviting vampires into one's house. And one would think to have better judgment in accepting an invitation from a vampire. But does it count? Does it still hold true in reverse?
Since the faint warning signs never cross the Antiquary's mind, these answers are left unknown. "Indeed. I would be honored, Mr. Osborne," Klement smiles through the onset of exhaustion. "I look forward to it."
Will he regret it later? Maybe. But business is important.
last comment from me on this, but we can work on setting up something new
Max is practically bouncing around the kitchen this morning. He's a ball of energy. And why? Because today is shopping day! Erik promised them a day to go out on the town to enjoy the spirit of the winter holidays, and to pick up some gifts in person.
Max is especially looking forward to finding the ingredients to make some old fashioned wassail because this year he won't be drinking it alone. Honestly, he's not sure there any other gift in the world that could compare to that. Matthew's presence in the house is all the joy he could ever ask for. (Which means he really needs to find something for Matthew that will express just how happy he's made Max.)
But first, they need to fuel up with some good food. Can't shop hungry, right? Matthew's idea has Max buzzing with just as much excitement. An excuse to eat fried food all week? Hell yes.
As he looks to his partner in crime across the kitchen, he asks, "What will it be today? Should we do the donuts? I've been looking forward to those."
"We absolutely should do the donuts today. What fillings do you have in mind for them? I'm not going to be a stickler for tradition if you decide you want custard-filled sufganiyot--or even white chocolate."
They'd discovered that white chocolate is safe for Matthew, and while it's not quite enough to get rid of all his cravings, he's gotten used to it. Between that and things like peanut butter fudge, Max has been able to indulge Matthew, all as part of a proper meal plan meant to help him get healthy again.
And he is much healthier now than when he arrived, for certain, and happy to be here too. Their household has become a surrogate family for him, and he's taken every opportunity to express his gratitude, verbally and otherwise.
Max is happy enough that they had found a few things. The hunt for other comparable foods isn't over in his book either but, of course, he doesn't want to accidentally poison his only friend. Max has taken his job as primary cook for the both of them very seriously. He's approached the task with a kind of vigor that borders on obsessive. As if it wasn't already.
Seeing Matthew thrive has been the greatest reward of them all. The werewolf tells him all the time how grateful he is, and Max can only return the sentiment whole-heartedly. They already feel like famiy and this finally feels like home.
"I think strawberry jelly sounds good? Shame about you being allergic to raspberry; that's my favorite kind of filling. But, oh well. Can't have it all." He shrugs and starts pulling out the fryer and the oil.
"While I'm doing this, let's make some plans? Because let me tell you, shopping for an immortal vampire who's already got everything-hooboy. That's a conundrum. I could use some fresh ideas. Josiah, at least, is easy. I have a tradition of getting him a new novelty deck of cards every year. The weirder, the better."
"I'm not going to steal your tradition with Josiah, but something in the same vein might work." He's gotten to the point where blood puns just happen and tend to go unremarked. "Maybe knives. Find some new and interesting knife to give him each year. He'd appreciate that. As for Erik...I don't even know what to do there. A nice pair of slippers so I can fetch them for him every morning?"
Like the loyal dog he is.
He stays out of the way of Max with the fryer, unless he requests help--but gives that help eagerly if it's requested. "As long as everything's clearly labeled, you could make raspberry ones for yourself?
"That's fair," says Max with a devilish twinkle in his eye. No, he just can't let the puns go. He just can't, "since using the same vein all the time isn't recommended." Ba-dum-tss.
"No, but really. I think that's a great plan. Man, I almost wish I'd thought of it."
Ah yes... as for Erik. What do you get the guy who has not only everything but the means to get it at a moment's notice?
"I like the slipper idea. If only because I'd love to see his face when you suggest playing fetch with him." Max, for once, genuinely does not know how Erik would react to that. Could go either way. But, Matthew would get points for surprising a vampire. That's no small feat.
Max will just have to keep thinking. Which he will, but lets the topic of gifts drop for now while he beckons Matthew over to help watch the dough that's floating gently in the hot oil, to make sure they come out at the right time.
"You know what. Okay. I'll make a few raspberry ones," he says after a moment of consideration. "Only because I did already get some preserve to use in my turnovers. Now, those are really my favorite so I was gonna make 'em either way. And apple ones for you of course."
"I mean, I expect you to be there while Erik's opening presents, so with any luck you'll see the look on his face." He's totally going to do the thing now, with Max's encouragement. These two are dangerous together sometimes in that reckless way.
"Here, flip the two on the left, they're getting pretty golden on that side." He points to two of the sufganiyot that hit the oil first, grinning. "And yes, apple turnovers do sound absolutely amazing."
"Not just see. I'm planning to take a picture." He will too. That's another strange consequence of Matthew joining their little family. Now, suddenly, Max feels the desire to memorialize things in photos once more. He has someone to show them to now. Erik probably won't be too mad if they make sure to keep their snickering low-key.
"Ah, thanks," with an easy gesture, he flicks the donuts over. "Good! I know what we'll be having for breakfast tomorrow then."
Max will happily continue on with the task at hand. With Matthew's careful watch, they manage to make all the donuts without burning a single one. Soon enough, they have a plate full of jelly-filled goodness. And a second, smaller plate with Max's raspberry batch too. The whole house smells of sweet dough and oil.
Max is just reaching for one, to test if it's cooled enough to eat, of course, when Josiah slides into the doorway.
"Times like this," he says, in a cheery mood by the looks of it, "makes me wish I could still taste as well as I used to."
Max, finding the donuts cool enough to handle, picks one up and tosses it to the younger vampire. "You might still taste the jelly. Try it."
As they age, vampires lose their sense of taste. But it doesn't go right away. Sweet, bitter, and sour are the last holdouts. The raspberry might still count.
"Thanks," Josiah says, catching the pastry mid-air and bringing it right to his lips. His eyebrows flick up. He can taste it, a little. Huh. He nods and smiles at the pair of them. "So, you two sound excited for the day ahead."
Watching Josiah's reaction to being able to taste the sufganiyah, Matthew can't help but grin. It's nice to be able to find one of the rare few things Josiah can still enjoy. And if that's good, things like pies with fruit fillings might be too.
"It's like being back in grade school again and getting excited about a field trip. Same rules apply, too--stick close to your buddy, listen to your chaperone, don't lick the windows of the school bus..."
By chance and good fortune alone, the vampire lord of this manor had caught the woman unawares and snagged her alive, before she could use her terrifying power on him. Now, he has her captive in his basement, unconscious for the moment. But this is a delicate case. He cannot face her himself, not without fear of her deadly light. So, he must trust this to his human servant, Max.
Max is sitting beside her where she lays on the bed in the center of his own basement room. She's still completely clothed, but she has been tucked under the red silk comforter in an attempt to make her more comfortable.
The bedroom is furnished with warm cherrywood furniture, save for the bed which is four-posted and made of wrought iron. No expense seems to have been spared in decoration, nor in the finery of Max's clothes. He's dressed in an expensive black suit with a bloodred tie nearly the same color as the bedsheets. He's sitting there idly browsing his phone.
Waking up is a slow process for Christine, but when she does it becomes clear immediately that what she's just experienced wasn't some nightmare after all. She's in a completely foreign location with a stranger close by. She sits up, the silk comforter falling to her waist as she takes it all in. There's an instinct to run, to scream, to do anything besides continue to sit here and accept it, but when times are at their most tense, Christine buries her emotions and stays calm. It comes naturally to her. The freak outs come later, once the situation has passed.
"Where am I?" First things first: establish if she's still in danger from that vampire. Second thing second: establish who the hell this guy is and if he's a danger too.
The phone clicks lightly as he locks the screen, and turns to look at her. His expression is compassionate but cautious.
"Oh, hey. You're up. I was beginning to wonder." His tone is friendly, light, and not seeming to match with the obvious problem of her being kidnapped and presumably a hostage.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but you've been captured by my master. You're in his mansion. Technically, you're in my room. My name is Max Maximum. He didn't... actually tell me yours yet."
Christine stares for a good long moment, then laughs. Not an amused laugh, but one of utter disbelief. Maybe it shouldn't be so. Maybe she should have realized it was inevitably that she'd end up this way. But this whole situation is crazy. Up until a few weeks ago, she hadn't even believed vampires were real.
"It's sad how the most unbelievable thing out of all of that is the fact that's your name."
Look, she can normally be polite, but these aren't normal circumstances. She tosses the comforter aside and swings her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up and groaning. A hand presses to her forehead, then her cheeks and the nape of her neck so she can gauge her temperature.
"Goddammit Erik," Max mutters under his breath. This fucking name. His Master had chosen it because it was both humiliating and descriptive in a way that came back around to being humiliating.
"Just call me Max," he grouses.
"And, yes. Sorry. It was in your drink. Can get you some water? It'll be a sealed water bottle."
"No," she replies quickly. Christine doesn't want anything from a guy who's just so casually sitting there and basically saying: Sorry, you're a prisoner now. Logically, she knows if there's no escape that she'll have to fold eventually to eat and drink, but at the moment she's going to be stubborn, thank you very much.
She wants to stand, but has the feeling that she may just pass out if she does. So instead she crosses her arms and looks around the space.
"So what's the deal here?" Is that Erik guy getting a saw so he can cut her hands off? Is he out digging a six foot hole?
He can't say he's surprised. She will eventually have to come around but she only did just wake up.
"Look, Miss...?" He prompts her for a name here since she still hasn't said.
"This isn't what you want to hear, but you've been marked for death by a whole lot of vampires. My Master brought you here to keep anyone else from getting to you first. You're safe here. We aren't going to hurt you. But we also can't let you leave.
"I've been tasked with keeping you comfortable. I'll do the best I can to help you make the best out of this situation. Believe me, I understand it."
"I was already being kept safe somewhere!" she protests, voice raising slightly. But the gravity of the situation comes crashing down on her a moment later and her shoulders slump along with it. "For all the good it did." Clearly she couldn't step a foot outside or she was dead meat.
Now all the more determined to not stay idle, she pushes herself up to her feet and takes a few steps. So far, so good. She needed to see the rest of this prison. If the bedroom is anything to go by, it's pretty fancy.
And then, as more of an afterthought: "Christine."
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maximumcake) wrote2020-11-27 12:45 pm
Enter Erik
"You say that now," says Max with much trepidation. "But, I feel like if you knew the whole story you might not be able to stick to that."
"Stick to what?" Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Erik makes his way toward their booth. He's changed his shirt and tie and lost a suit jacket since the last time Klement saw him. Fortunately, blood doesn't show up on black trousers noticeably. The casual way in which he strolls to them shows no hints that not so long ago, he'd been engaged with tearing out the throat of his enemies.
"What an interesting coincidence this is," says the vampire cooly, "the two of you meeting here."
"M-master!" Max jumps up at attention and dips a bow for his vampire lord. "I'm happy you are safe."
"Yes, Max. As I am glad to see you safe as well. But, I am also very surprised by the company you keep." The vampire's gaze slides to Klement. "Mr. Devereux, I am relieved to see you are well. I must apologize for how our business was interrupted." He makes it sound as casual as if he'd simply take a call.
"And, I see you have met my Pet, Max."
Re: Enter Erik
"Mr. Osborne," the Antiquary greets, also getting to his feet with practiced grace to properly welcome the master back after their previous meeting. He does notice the difference in Erik's wardrobe, but he feels it's for the better since having obvious blood stains in the early hours of morning will still bring about many questions from strangers.
Although he pauses when Erik introduces Max as his 'pet,' he still smiles, nodding in confirmation. "It is also good to see you are doing well," comes his reply without hesitation, gesturing for all of them to sit again so that they wouldn't be standing around awkwardly. "Please, there is no need to apologize, sir. Business tends to come with some surprises, after all.
"And Mr. Maximum has been wonderful company tonight – to be honest, I did not think anyone would be here, considering the time."
Re: Enter Erik
"Yes, I had the same notion. Which is why I instructed Max to wait for me here. Great minds think alike, it seems."
Erik slides gracefully into the booth. Max sits down beside him, pressing in close enough that their thighs touch beneath the table. That brings a momentary pitying smile to the Vampire's face. Max had obviously been fretting, he still smelled strongly of fear.
Erik pats Max's arm, above the table where Klement can see. "Yes, Max is incredibly good at making fast friends."
Nothing in Erik's tone or demeanor really seems to perceptibly change, and yet, it's as if the temperature in the room has dropped a degree, "And, it seems he's already gotten quite comfortable speaking with you about certain personal topics."
Through the connection of their thighs, Erik can feel the muscles in Max tense. The human's eyes cast down to the table immediately, as if he's been harshly reprimanded.
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While he knows the air-conditioning units are always on in some restaurants, he can't help but feel a chill run down his spine. His expression, however, mentions nothing of it, letting his gaze linger between Max and Erik before speaking again.
"Then I should apologize, Mr. Osborne. I believe I am at fault for getting into such details," he insists, hands spread with his palms open as they hover inches above the tabletop. "Having you as a connection was unexpected at best, and it was only natural to be worried when you disappeared shortly after our meeting ended prematurely." His palms are then gently pressed together in asking for forgiveness. "My curiosity piques where it should not, and scenes like the one tonight have a way of staying fresh in memory."
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Max lets out a slow breath and seems to relax again. He reaches for his coffee to take a sip and grimaces. It's still just as burnt but now it's also cold.
"I think," adds Erik, "we might be better off if we tried to forget what we saw in that warehouse. I do hope it won't keep us from doing business in the future?"
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Yet Klement perks, his attention unwavering as he nods. "Oh– oh yes, indeed. We never have to bring the incident up again." It just goes in the pile of other incidents he's had happen during the growth of his careers, mostly left alone until someone decides to bring it back to the forefront.
Most likely his father. That will be another issue to deal with later, however.
His hands clasp together. "Mr. Osbourne, I am more than happy to continue our business relationship," he says. "You have a keen eye and great respect for antiquities and the like, and I only wish more clients understood the value in collecting and preservation."
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Just like that, the matter is put to bed.
Max breathes another shallow sigh. He's just as happy to put all this in the rear-view mirror as the rest of them. Now, if only he could put this restaurant there too. He fidgets slightly in his seat. Erik, ever attuned to his Pet's moods, picks up on that.
"But, alas, the hour is late. So, I think that shall have to conclude our business for now. Perhaps you will come by my home sometime in the near future? We may have more to discuss." An invitation to a vampire's abode is both an honor and a dangerous proposition. What will Klement decide?
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Now, perhaps because of the hour, he barely remembers the thing about inviting vampires into one's house. And one would think to have better judgment in accepting an invitation from a vampire. But does it count? Does it still hold true in reverse?
Since the faint warning signs never cross the Antiquary's mind, these answers are left unknown. "Indeed. I would be honored, Mr. Osborne," Klement smiles through the onset of exhaustion. "I look forward to it."
Will he regret it later? Maybe. But business is important.
last comment from me on this, but we can work on setting up something new
"Then we'll be in touch soon. I'm sure Max will enjoy showing you his skill in hospitality."
Max does brighten at the prospect. Someone to cook for? To entertain? Yes! He can't wait.
"I'll be delighted," the human says, following his master out of the booth.
Erik is motioning for them to go, but Max lingers just a moment longer to say, "And thank you, again, for keeping me company. Goodbye for now."
Okay!
[Closed for Matthew]
Max is especially looking forward to finding the ingredients to make some old fashioned wassail because this year he won't be drinking it alone. Honestly, he's not sure there any other gift in the world that could compare to that. Matthew's presence in the house is all the joy he could ever ask for. (Which means he really needs to find something for Matthew that will express just how happy he's made Max.)
But first, they need to fuel up with some good food. Can't shop hungry, right? Matthew's idea has Max buzzing with just as much excitement. An excuse to eat fried food all week? Hell yes.
As he looks to his partner in crime across the kitchen, he asks, "What will it be today? Should we do the donuts? I've been looking forward to those."
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They'd discovered that white chocolate is safe for Matthew, and while it's not quite enough to get rid of all his cravings, he's gotten used to it. Between that and things like peanut butter fudge, Max has been able to indulge Matthew, all as part of a proper meal plan meant to help him get healthy again.
And he is much healthier now than when he arrived, for certain, and happy to be here too. Their household has become a surrogate family for him, and he's taken every opportunity to express his gratitude, verbally and otherwise.
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Seeing Matthew thrive has been the greatest reward of them all. The werewolf tells him all the time how grateful he is, and Max can only return the sentiment whole-heartedly. They already feel like famiy and this finally feels like home.
"I think strawberry jelly sounds good? Shame about you being allergic to raspberry; that's my favorite kind of filling. But, oh well. Can't have it all." He shrugs and starts pulling out the fryer and the oil.
"While I'm doing this, let's make some plans? Because let me tell you, shopping for an immortal vampire who's already got everything-hooboy. That's a conundrum. I could use some fresh ideas. Josiah, at least, is easy. I have a tradition of getting him a new novelty deck of cards every year. The weirder, the better."
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Like the loyal dog he is.
He stays out of the way of Max with the fryer, unless he requests help--but gives that help eagerly if it's requested. "As long as everything's clearly labeled, you could make raspberry ones for yourself?
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"No, but really. I think that's a great plan. Man, I almost wish I'd thought of it."
Ah yes... as for Erik. What do you get the guy who has not only everything but the means to get it at a moment's notice?
"I like the slipper idea. If only because I'd love to see his face when you suggest playing fetch with him." Max, for once, genuinely does not know how Erik would react to that. Could go either way. But, Matthew would get points for surprising a vampire. That's no small feat.
Max will just have to keep thinking. Which he will, but lets the topic of gifts drop for now while he beckons Matthew over to help watch the dough that's floating gently in the hot oil, to make sure they come out at the right time.
"You know what. Okay. I'll make a few raspberry ones," he says after a moment of consideration. "Only because I did already get some preserve to use in my turnovers. Now, those are really my favorite so I was gonna make 'em either way. And apple ones for you of course."
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"Here, flip the two on the left, they're getting pretty golden on that side." He points to two of the sufganiyot that hit the oil first, grinning. "And yes, apple turnovers do sound absolutely amazing."
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"Ah, thanks," with an easy gesture, he flicks the donuts over. "Good! I know what we'll be having for breakfast tomorrow then."
Max will happily continue on with the task at hand. With Matthew's careful watch, they manage to make all the donuts without burning a single one. Soon enough, they have a plate full of jelly-filled goodness. And a second, smaller plate with Max's raspberry batch too. The whole house smells of sweet dough and oil.
Max is just reaching for one, to test if it's cooled enough to eat, of course, when Josiah slides into the doorway.
"Times like this," he says, in a cheery mood by the looks of it, "makes me wish I could still taste as well as I used to."
Max, finding the donuts cool enough to handle, picks one up and tosses it to the younger vampire. "You might still taste the jelly. Try it."
As they age, vampires lose their sense of taste. But it doesn't go right away. Sweet, bitter, and sour are the last holdouts. The raspberry might still count.
"Thanks," Josiah says, catching the pastry mid-air and bringing it right to his lips. His eyebrows flick up. He can taste it, a little. Huh. He nods and smiles at the pair of them. "So, you two sound excited for the day ahead."
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"It's like being back in grade school again and getting excited about a field trip. Same rules apply, too--stick close to your buddy, listen to your chaperone, don't lick the windows of the school bus..."
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[Closed for Christine]
Max is sitting beside her where she lays on the bed in the center of his own basement room. She's still completely clothed, but she has been tucked under the red silk comforter in an attempt to make her more comfortable.
The bedroom is furnished with warm cherrywood furniture, save for the bed which is four-posted and made of wrought iron. No expense seems to have been spared in decoration, nor in the finery of Max's clothes. He's dressed in an expensive black suit with a bloodred tie nearly the same color as the bedsheets. He's sitting there idly browsing his phone.
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"Where am I?" First things first: establish if she's still in danger from that vampire. Second thing second: establish who the hell this guy is and if he's a danger too.
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"Oh, hey. You're up. I was beginning to wonder." His tone is friendly, light, and not seeming to match with the obvious problem of her being kidnapped and presumably a hostage.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but you've been captured by my master. You're in his mansion. Technically, you're in my room. My name is Max Maximum. He didn't... actually tell me yours yet."
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"It's sad how the most unbelievable thing out of all of that is the fact that's your name."
Look, she can normally be polite, but these aren't normal circumstances. She tosses the comforter aside and swings her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up and groaning. A hand presses to her forehead, then her cheeks and the nape of her neck so she can gauge her temperature.
"Was I drugged?"
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"Just call me Max," he grouses.
"And, yes. Sorry. It was in your drink. Can get you some water? It'll be a sealed water bottle."
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She wants to stand, but has the feeling that she may just pass out if she does. So instead she crosses her arms and looks around the space.
"So what's the deal here?" Is that Erik guy getting a saw so he can cut her hands off? Is he out digging a six foot hole?
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"Look, Miss...?" He prompts her for a name here since she still hasn't said.
"This isn't what you want to hear, but you've been marked for death by a whole lot of vampires. My Master brought you here to keep anyone else from getting to you first. You're safe here. We aren't going to hurt you. But we also can't let you leave.
"I've been tasked with keeping you comfortable. I'll do the best I can to help you make the best out of this situation. Believe me, I understand it."
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Now all the more determined to not stay idle, she pushes herself up to her feet and takes a few steps. So far, so good. She needed to see the rest of this prison. If the bedroom is anything to go by, it's pretty fancy.
And then, as more of an afterthought: "Christine."
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sorry for the delay, time got away from me
no worries! i've been slow too
i don't mind, busy month for me
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