Post by Clark Davis on May 2, 2005 9:18:48 GMT -8
Sunday night, Vashon Island, Midnight
The silence around the house was maddening and cold in the otherwise warm spring night. It was suddenly broken by a gunshot and a bottle breaking out back. Regan opened the door silently and stood, her black hair illuminated by the light from the house behind her, and her lips pursed, as her arms crossed her midriff.
Angus' jacket was crumpled on the ground next to him, and he stood with his back turned to her and the house, ignoring the light now pouring out from the open back door, as he aimed a new snub revolver at two remaining bottles perched on posts. The light revealed new scuffs on his shirt and pants and a tear on the shoulder.
Regan cocked her hip out and leaned against the door frame, opening her mouth to speak, only to close it again, sighing.
Angus fired off two rounds, shattering one of the bottles, and emptied the chamber of the spent shells. "Hey."
She didn't move. "Hey yourself, stranger."
Angus turned to pick up his jacket, and placed the gun in his pocket. He had a popped button on his shirt and his cheek had a mark from where he'd been punched in the face. His reddened knuckles, however, told a story that the other man had been much worse off.
"I had to go blow off some steam."
Her eyes trailed over him. Her response was flat, "Steam."
His voice was level. "Yeah. Steam. Stress. Tension."
He sighed and paused. "Frustration."
"Why didn't you call?" Her voice was devoid of tone or mood, and her fingernails sank into her upper arms.
"Because I wanted to be alone for a little bit."
"I see. Should I be lettin' you be, then?"
"I'm back, aren't I?"
Her mouth opened, eyes revealing a look of hurt, before her body language shut down, and her features smoothed.
"Yeah. You are." She looked to her feet, nodding to herself. "I'll let you be, Angus."
His shoulders lose some of their tense stiffness and he walked up and laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her from leaving. "No, you don't have to..."
His hand tensed a bit. "I'm sorry, I should have called."
She closed her eyes and exhaled unhappily. "Yeah. You shoulda."
His lip twisted a bit in frustration. "I just... I dealt with a lot of shit last night."
Regan's unhappiness flared for a moment, "And I didn't? I-" She suddenly bit her lip on the torrent of words, making an unhappy noise in her throat. Angus hung his head, looking down and away in shame.
She calmed. "It doesn't matter. I'm just happy you're home. And okay."
She ran a hand over her face, looking more drained and weary than any other time since she'd come into Seattle. "You had me worried."
"I guess I'm just not used to... having to be worried about."
"I love you, Angus. You think up and vanishing for a night without a word won't worry me?"
He ran a few fingers through his hair. "I've been getting doubted a lot and it's kind of getting to me, darlin'."
She reached out a hand to capture one of his. "I don't doubt you, darlin'."
Angus grasped her hand softly, and his face looked worn and tired. "You sure do worry that I can't keep myself out of trouble, though."
"I guess I'm under the impression that you attract it. Look at us." Her lips pulled into a half smile. "You're always saying I'm trouble."
His tired shoulders slumped. "And I feel like as long as I'm this Voice, I'll never get respect from anyone. It's become a joke and I'm the ass end of it."
"Angus..." Regan squeezed his hand, falling silent for a moment. "...Do you realize how important this is? In the big picture?"
His lips pursed a bit for a moment. "In whose big picture?"
Her lips pulled, but she resisted the urge to grin. "Anyone who isn't you."
"This 'Voice' thing isn't supposed to be rewarding. Few positions are. But you have to realize it has more implications than you know."
Angus snorted in response. "For who? The Independents? It's important I establish a role to make them all officially second class citizens under Camarilla law? 'Cause this is all it's shaping up to be, so far."
She dropped his hand, her jaw working. "Because it's all you're expecting. God, Angus, don't you see where this could go? Independents rarely, if ever, get this kind of representation. Anywhere. You're giving us a chance to be visible and have a voice. You don't have to like it, or like being elected, but for the love of..." Her jaw worked again, exhaling in frustration. "You want things to be taken care of. You want both of us to be safe and have our freedoms, and I think you want the other Independents to have theirs. So act like it."
The frustration rose in his voice. "These aren't rules I've played under before."
"Then why don't you ask any of us for help?"
Angus sighed and sat down, leaning against a support beam on the deck, making space next to him for her. "I'm used to excelling exactly how Independents always do. Behind the scenes." His hands moved animatedly in front of him as he spoke. "I don't work with courts. I work with individuals. I corner. I don't get cornered. Do you understand why I'm out of my element?"
"You're not cornered. You just think you are." She took the empty space next to him, taking one of his hands in hers. "I'll help you."
"I don't where I stand anymore. I feel lost." His eyes closed.
"I know where you stand." Her voice was soft, and she touched her knuckles gently to his cheek.
He choked briefly on his own words. "...I feel lost and I don't want to endanger you." A crimson tear emerged from his eye and traced a trail down his face and across her knuckle.
"Oh, Angus..." She leaned across and kissed him gently. "You're not endangering me, Angus."
"If I can't get any of the other Gangrel, much less the rest of the Independents to rally behind me as well as you, I feel like I will be."
"We'll get them to rally together. If Ashland is going to make jokes about me being Whip, why don't we take him seriously."
Angus paused.
"...Do you know how long I told our Gangrel that we didn't need a Primogen?"
"No, I don't."
"And then my stance gave way to the Gangrel splitting down the middle in a sense. And now, I'm effectively a Primogen of the Independents with none of the benefits, and all the hypocrisy stained on my name."
She put her head on his shoulder, sighing. "It's not the end of the world, darlin'. We can make it work."
Angus leaned his head against hers. "And that damned Ashland is so fucking smug about all this."
"I don't think he's as smug as you think, Angus."
"And i know how you feel about me... But for a bit, it was hard not to feel cornered by you two last night."
"We... Angus..." She squeezed his hand.
"Sometimes, you're a little too good at painting that picture that nothing's going on in public."
"I love you, and I think Ashland respects you more than you think. I also don't think he or I could afford anyone knowing what we were talking about."
"What were you talking about?"
"In our own roundabout way? That we're both concerned about you. And for you."
Angus' face suddenly twisted into shocked puzzlement. "He's concerned for me?"
"Maybe. He's a hard man to read, darlin'. But I know he's concerned that you don't understand the... political situation you're in, as Voice. And how far it reaches. He says there are followers outside the domain following the progress of your position."
"He said something like that to me. He hint to you who it was that was watching?"
"Not really. I gathered they're Cam and high up there, though."
"Vipers waiting to strike..."
Regan squeezed his hand and nestled under his arm. "You'll be fine, darlin'."
Angus sighed and put his arm around her. "Why do I deserve something as good as what you give me?"
Regan looked up at Angus' eyes. "What do I give you, darlin'?"
"Right now? Unconditional love."
She smiled, and turned her head to kiss his cheek. "Always, Angus. Not just now."
He smiled and chuckled. "So why's a dirtbag old thief get it?"
"Because that 'dirtbag old thief' is the man I love."
Angus kissed her on the nose. "You have a way of saying sweet things to avoid actually answering the damned question, you know that?"
"Mm hmm."
"So you're not going to tell me why, then?"
"Because you're perfect for me?"
Angus chuckled softly. "I guess."
She smiled, cupping one hand over his cheek. "Why would you love a gunslinging bitch like me?"
He grinned, "Because that's exactly the kind of girl I like."
She laughed softly. "I see. Are there some broken hearted gunslingers in your past I should know about?"
"Nope. Never met one quite like you."
"Good. I like to think I'm one of a kind."
Angus smiled and put a palm softly to her cheek. "C'mere and gimme some sugar, you."
Regan laughed, rolling her eyes before she relented, leaning forward to kiss him, placing herself firmly in his arms.
The silence around the house was maddening and cold in the otherwise warm spring night. It was suddenly broken by a gunshot and a bottle breaking out back. Regan opened the door silently and stood, her black hair illuminated by the light from the house behind her, and her lips pursed, as her arms crossed her midriff.
Angus' jacket was crumpled on the ground next to him, and he stood with his back turned to her and the house, ignoring the light now pouring out from the open back door, as he aimed a new snub revolver at two remaining bottles perched on posts. The light revealed new scuffs on his shirt and pants and a tear on the shoulder.
Regan cocked her hip out and leaned against the door frame, opening her mouth to speak, only to close it again, sighing.
Angus fired off two rounds, shattering one of the bottles, and emptied the chamber of the spent shells. "Hey."
She didn't move. "Hey yourself, stranger."
Angus turned to pick up his jacket, and placed the gun in his pocket. He had a popped button on his shirt and his cheek had a mark from where he'd been punched in the face. His reddened knuckles, however, told a story that the other man had been much worse off.
"I had to go blow off some steam."
Her eyes trailed over him. Her response was flat, "Steam."
His voice was level. "Yeah. Steam. Stress. Tension."
He sighed and paused. "Frustration."
"Why didn't you call?" Her voice was devoid of tone or mood, and her fingernails sank into her upper arms.
"Because I wanted to be alone for a little bit."
"I see. Should I be lettin' you be, then?"
"I'm back, aren't I?"
Her mouth opened, eyes revealing a look of hurt, before her body language shut down, and her features smoothed.
"Yeah. You are." She looked to her feet, nodding to herself. "I'll let you be, Angus."
His shoulders lose some of their tense stiffness and he walked up and laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her from leaving. "No, you don't have to..."
His hand tensed a bit. "I'm sorry, I should have called."
She closed her eyes and exhaled unhappily. "Yeah. You shoulda."
His lip twisted a bit in frustration. "I just... I dealt with a lot of shit last night."
Regan's unhappiness flared for a moment, "And I didn't? I-" She suddenly bit her lip on the torrent of words, making an unhappy noise in her throat. Angus hung his head, looking down and away in shame.
She calmed. "It doesn't matter. I'm just happy you're home. And okay."
She ran a hand over her face, looking more drained and weary than any other time since she'd come into Seattle. "You had me worried."
"I guess I'm just not used to... having to be worried about."
"I love you, Angus. You think up and vanishing for a night without a word won't worry me?"
He ran a few fingers through his hair. "I've been getting doubted a lot and it's kind of getting to me, darlin'."
She reached out a hand to capture one of his. "I don't doubt you, darlin'."
Angus grasped her hand softly, and his face looked worn and tired. "You sure do worry that I can't keep myself out of trouble, though."
"I guess I'm under the impression that you attract it. Look at us." Her lips pulled into a half smile. "You're always saying I'm trouble."
His tired shoulders slumped. "And I feel like as long as I'm this Voice, I'll never get respect from anyone. It's become a joke and I'm the ass end of it."
"Angus..." Regan squeezed his hand, falling silent for a moment. "...Do you realize how important this is? In the big picture?"
His lips pursed a bit for a moment. "In whose big picture?"
Her lips pulled, but she resisted the urge to grin. "Anyone who isn't you."
"This 'Voice' thing isn't supposed to be rewarding. Few positions are. But you have to realize it has more implications than you know."
Angus snorted in response. "For who? The Independents? It's important I establish a role to make them all officially second class citizens under Camarilla law? 'Cause this is all it's shaping up to be, so far."
She dropped his hand, her jaw working. "Because it's all you're expecting. God, Angus, don't you see where this could go? Independents rarely, if ever, get this kind of representation. Anywhere. You're giving us a chance to be visible and have a voice. You don't have to like it, or like being elected, but for the love of..." Her jaw worked again, exhaling in frustration. "You want things to be taken care of. You want both of us to be safe and have our freedoms, and I think you want the other Independents to have theirs. So act like it."
The frustration rose in his voice. "These aren't rules I've played under before."
"Then why don't you ask any of us for help?"
Angus sighed and sat down, leaning against a support beam on the deck, making space next to him for her. "I'm used to excelling exactly how Independents always do. Behind the scenes." His hands moved animatedly in front of him as he spoke. "I don't work with courts. I work with individuals. I corner. I don't get cornered. Do you understand why I'm out of my element?"
"You're not cornered. You just think you are." She took the empty space next to him, taking one of his hands in hers. "I'll help you."
"I don't where I stand anymore. I feel lost." His eyes closed.
"I know where you stand." Her voice was soft, and she touched her knuckles gently to his cheek.
He choked briefly on his own words. "...I feel lost and I don't want to endanger you." A crimson tear emerged from his eye and traced a trail down his face and across her knuckle.
"Oh, Angus..." She leaned across and kissed him gently. "You're not endangering me, Angus."
"If I can't get any of the other Gangrel, much less the rest of the Independents to rally behind me as well as you, I feel like I will be."
"We'll get them to rally together. If Ashland is going to make jokes about me being Whip, why don't we take him seriously."
Angus paused.
"...Do you know how long I told our Gangrel that we didn't need a Primogen?"
"No, I don't."
"And then my stance gave way to the Gangrel splitting down the middle in a sense. And now, I'm effectively a Primogen of the Independents with none of the benefits, and all the hypocrisy stained on my name."
She put her head on his shoulder, sighing. "It's not the end of the world, darlin'. We can make it work."
Angus leaned his head against hers. "And that damned Ashland is so fucking smug about all this."
"I don't think he's as smug as you think, Angus."
"And i know how you feel about me... But for a bit, it was hard not to feel cornered by you two last night."
"We... Angus..." She squeezed his hand.
"Sometimes, you're a little too good at painting that picture that nothing's going on in public."
"I love you, and I think Ashland respects you more than you think. I also don't think he or I could afford anyone knowing what we were talking about."
"What were you talking about?"
"In our own roundabout way? That we're both concerned about you. And for you."
Angus' face suddenly twisted into shocked puzzlement. "He's concerned for me?"
"Maybe. He's a hard man to read, darlin'. But I know he's concerned that you don't understand the... political situation you're in, as Voice. And how far it reaches. He says there are followers outside the domain following the progress of your position."
"He said something like that to me. He hint to you who it was that was watching?"
"Not really. I gathered they're Cam and high up there, though."
"Vipers waiting to strike..."
Regan squeezed his hand and nestled under his arm. "You'll be fine, darlin'."
Angus sighed and put his arm around her. "Why do I deserve something as good as what you give me?"
Regan looked up at Angus' eyes. "What do I give you, darlin'?"
"Right now? Unconditional love."
She smiled, and turned her head to kiss his cheek. "Always, Angus. Not just now."
He smiled and chuckled. "So why's a dirtbag old thief get it?"
"Because that 'dirtbag old thief' is the man I love."
Angus kissed her on the nose. "You have a way of saying sweet things to avoid actually answering the damned question, you know that?"
"Mm hmm."
"So you're not going to tell me why, then?"
"Because you're perfect for me?"
Angus chuckled softly. "I guess."
She smiled, cupping one hand over his cheek. "Why would you love a gunslinging bitch like me?"
He grinned, "Because that's exactly the kind of girl I like."
She laughed softly. "I see. Are there some broken hearted gunslingers in your past I should know about?"
"Nope. Never met one quite like you."
"Good. I like to think I'm one of a kind."
Angus smiled and put a palm softly to her cheek. "C'mere and gimme some sugar, you."
Regan laughed, rolling her eyes before she relented, leaning forward to kiss him, placing herself firmly in his arms.