Brickley Street A Funny Thing Happened

Il Forum's Main Dining Room & Private Dining Suite
Liam's Dinner Attire & Favorite Forum Server Giovanni

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It wasn't often that Liam found himself dreading the mere thought of an evening out on the town, where he would have the golden opportunity to not only dress to impress, but wine and dine in one of Reignhart's finest, five-star restaurants; however, on this particular night, at this specific moment in time, he would've preferred to be anywhere but here. That said, such uneasy feelings hadn't and wouldn't stop him from pulling out all of the stops, just to impress the individual whom he'd soon be breaking bread with. While heightened levels of apprehension were currently coursing through his veins, so was the strong desire to make amends.

In the brief time that they had been acquainted, Mr. Cordel had already proven himself to be a formidable force, one that could easily set someone's teeth on edge with a single glance or just a handful of scathing words, as he had skillfully done during their first meeting, within the comfort of Liam's own home. In a matter of minutes, he had made the author feel insecure and, to a degree, insignificant, which, quite clearly, hadn't sat well with the affluent and well-established man in the least. He wasn't accustom to being spoken to or treated in such an off-putting manner. Although, he and, more specifically, his agent had certainly misstepped, in the worst way possible, soiling the once pristine ties that had been formed between himself and his publishing house. So, he imagined, he actually deserved such unkindness.

Hopefully this will do the trick, he now thought, as he strode into Il Forum, dressed in not only the finest formal attire his money could buy, but a sumptuous, full-length fur that made him feel and look like a million bucks.

Having lost a similar garment several weeks before, to a pack of filthy vagrants, the author felt compelled to set things straight by replacing it, along with every last accessory that had also been swiped during the mugging. By taking the time to set such things straight, he felt more whole, more capable of dealing with whatever would unfold here tonight. It was basically his way of reassuring himself that he still had some control over what happened in his life, even when it appeared, at times such as this, that he had very little, if any at all. Without much effort, Mr. Cordel had put him in his place. Would he continue to treat him in a similar fashion or would they be able to mend the bridge that had nearly been burned to the ground?

Following his favorite server Giovanni, whom he had specifically requested for this evening, mostly for his talent as a waiter, but also for his rugged good looks - which definitely helped to put the psychic at ease - Liam made his way through the main dining room until the two of them were soon standing before the private suite that he had also reserved. Waiting for one of the two sliding doors to be opened, the author began to remove his skin-tight, leather gloves; however, as soon as he saw that his guest had already arrived before him, he found himself stopping, mid-motion, as if he were some fragile fawn suddenly caught in an oncoming auto's blaring high-beams.

"Mr. Cordel," Liam managed to muster his greeting without much delay, as he not only entered the room, but crossed it, side-stepping the handsome table that was set for two before the stone hearth, which was already filled with a crackling fire. "I sincerely hope you haven't been waiting long," he quickly added, as he then offered his hand, only after casting Giovanni a quick glance, as if to say, "You could've told me he was here."

Lucien's attire

---

Lucien waited at the table with no small amount of melancholy. Private dining rooms like this one were normally his preferred arena of battle. Home visits normally ending up as more like slaughters than battles, Hence their exclusion from his ranking. This dining room stood as a symbol of all he had lost though. A fine wine that he couldn't drink sat on the table, the smell of dust and age still clinging to the polished glass of the decanter. A menu card of imported delicacies that he could not touch to his lips before him. Then beyond the table, a globe of liquor he could not sample and a box of cigars he could never smoke again. By the heavens he missed tobacco. Sometimes he found himself lingering by smoking shelters just to reminisce ... until he pulled himself together and realized that only tramps lurked by ashtrays.

The only possibility he had for amusement and enjoyment was the prospect of finally getting the rich and not altogether unattractive, in a conventional way, author down on his knees to give up a pint or two of well-bred blood. For Liam did seem to have the marks of breeding. Not noble pedigree of course but military without a doubt. He'd come frustratingly close to breaking him last time. Alas he had slipped through his fingers like sand at the last minute. Perhaps tonight would go better. Liam was mostly square with his publisher now, but there was still something for Lucien to hold against him. Just a small thing but it could be made to seem bigger. He would need to see how the mood took him when the time came.

For now, he waited. Listening with interest as Giovanni explained that Liam was a regular. How quaint that he had picked something akin to home territory. It boded well for Lucien's endeavor. Either Liam felt afraid and was keen for the comfort of familiarity or he was trying to let Lucien in closer to his life. Either way, it was good.

Giovanni had left some minutes ago, to await Liam no doubt. He had told Lucien enough in the time they had been in the room. Giovanni doing his job to make the room perfect. Not that there was much Lucien could do with its many facilities. It was pleasant though to watch the waiter flitting about to ensure all was perfect. If only everyone showed such devotion to filling their niche in life with such perfection. Lucien could be happy then, in a world of order, hierarchy and deference.

Lucien was stood by the hearth when Giovanni returned with Liam. Facing away watching the flames dance. He was giving them a healthily wide berth feeling as he did their lingering threat of danger. He heard their approach even before the door opened. He didn't turn as he was exposed. Smiling to himself as he heard the telltale sound of leather sliding on flesh stop momentarily.

Suprise ... on time meant thirty minutes early.

He turned only when he was greeted, the smile still on his face. Perhaps his smile was as bad as his glare. He certainly hoped so. "William" he replied shaking the other man's offered hand, just to subtly remind his quarry that they were not on equal footing, even with all the finery. It would certainly help set the tone if some of that show of wealth and control was gone. "Giovanni, my boy help William with his coat then leave us for a few minutes please" he requested politely as he moved away from the fire properly. Giovanni nodded because of course he did and moved to help Liam. Assuming that help was accepted the rugged waiter would ease the coat of Liam's shoulders, deposit it safely and leave.

Only with him gone and the door shut did Lucien address Liams hope that he had not been waiting too long "I'm sure you got here as soon as you could William, you can make up for the time I was waiting though" He fixed his eyes on Liams then.

"Put your finery on the side table" He ordered.

The rush in his spine told him that his words had landed. Spoke with authority and a gaze that compelled unflinching obedience. He had no desire to steal the items Liam considered finery but he did want Liam stripped of them while they ate. He didn't want Liam to feel important and wealthy. Ideally, Liam would feel exposed, it made him smell so good.

"Then why don't you pour the wine ... I am assured it is the finest vintage in their cellar." He added with another satisfied grin. That one wasn't a suggestion. Just a request. William could refuse ... theoretically.

---

For suggestions

Before his arrival to the restaurant, Liam had felt more than a little off about this dinner engagement, but now, dear lord, now that he was here in the lawyer's company, scrambling to save face for his late arrival, he felt beside himself, and it showed in the simple fact that he had just offered his still glove-encased hand to the man!

Couldn't he have taken the time to strip it bare, so that such a social faux pas could've been easily avoided? Well, no, apparently not. He had just stormed right in, without much thought given, and did what any commoner would've done, in haste, without an ounce of decorum on display.

What was it about this man that made the author act this way?

"Forgive me," he found himself muttering, with flushed cheeks, as he swiftly drew the abomination away.

Taking a step back, Liam would then listen as Mr. Cordel took charge of the moment by directing Giovanni to help him out of his plush overcoat before dismissing himself until further notice. More than willing to accept the server's capable assistance, the author allowed the substantial garment to be slid from his broad shoulders, taking the silk scarf with it as it went. Still half gloved, he made haste to remove the second as quickly as he could, turning the pair over once both were freed from his impeccably manicured hands.

Still listening, as if he were some eager underling - or should that be lapdog? - waiting for his next command, Liam allowed himself to relax, just a little, as the man not only dismissed his tardiness, but gave him an opportunity to make amends; however, as their eyes met and the psychic soaked in the next order that would apparently set things straight between them, he couldn't help but...wonder...about...

Nothing at all.

Not a second thought, nor, to be honest, even a first was given as Liam systematically removed every flashy bit and sparkling bauble from his being.

Off came his diamond-encrusted Rolex, along with the gold bracelet that he wore on his other thick wrist. This was followed by the removal of his signet ring, which was added to the small, glittering pile with ease. Not stopping there, his onyx and gold links were plucked from each French cuff and plopped down among the other jewels, clattering against the polished surface of the side table, which was meant to hold food, not a treasure trove of personal belongings that surely cost a small fortune.

Pausing for a heartbeat or two, it actually took Liam a moment to process his next move, but soon enough he was drawing out one of the dining chairs so that he could take a seat upon it. Once sat, he proceeded to slip off his imported, leather dress boots, which sparkled in the firelight, since both toes were capped with a wedge of solid gold. Leaving his silk, over the calf socks in place, he would then return to his feet, but as soon as he was standing, his hand-stitched, one of a kind dinner jacket was being worked open and then off, only to end up laid with his coat on a nearby, high-back chair. A minute more, and his silk suspenders were worked off as well, along with the tailored trousers they were attached to.

Standing now, in his pristine-white, muscle-hugging dress shirt and hand-tied, satin bow, they were both soon stripped away, until every rippling inch of his thickly built torso and equally impressive arms were on full display. Thankfully, his clouded mind managed to recall that he purchased his designer briefs on sale, so while they were still every bit as splendid as the rest of his formal attire, they didn't exactly register as legitimate finery. Therefore, they remained in place.

Still caught up in the other man's rapture, Liam then moved across the room, strutting along as if he were still dressed to the nines, instead of one step away from being in his birthday suit. Grasping the bottle of wine with one hand, he took up a glass with the other. Filling the crystal clear vessel with the dark liquid, he refrained from speaking until after the second serving was poured.

"Shall we toast?" he then asked of Mr. Cordel, as he came to stand before him, offering one of the glasses once near enough, along with an unforgiving view of his nearly nude form.

---

Liam's Severely Modified Dinner Attire

This had been easier than he thought. Liam had not even been late and yet here he was falling over himself with stress and panic. Lucien had barely had to speak ... what would he manage to do when he did speak?

Shaking with gloves like they were in the street one of them afflicted with some disease, disgraceful. No decorum. Still, Lucien shook the glove-covered hand adding the faux pax to the mind bank just in case he needed it. The state Liam was in he doubt he'd need it.

Lucien leant in close when Liam mumbled his apology and pulled his gloved hand away "Say that again William, I didn't catch that" He whispered a little harsh.

Lucien didn't really watch as Liam was stripped of the coat and subsequently surrendered his gloves and scarf. He had no interest in Liams form. Ordering him out of his finery was intended to strip Liam of the jewels and baubles that Lucien knew could give a man strength. He had not intended for him to strip down to his socks and boxers. It did present an opportunity to needle his quarry some more on his unmitigated spurning of social norms.

It was very pleasant to see William's face go blank at his order. His confident proud features suddenly demuring into lax obedience. That satisfied Lucien and he did watch to see whether Liam obeyed. Well more to see the way he obeyed. His obedience did not appear to be negotiable. The clinking of jewellery onto the table was very satisfying watching Liam strip himself of everything that set him above the common plebiscite.

He returned to his seat as William pulled his own seat out. He expected that Liam would sit himself down. He merely quirked a brow and watched as Liam pulled off his boots and then his jacket. Suspenders ... to a man who was interested in something as sordid as sexual liaison this might be interesting but not really to Lucien. He was interested only in how this would make William feel. He'd be sure to ask about it later. without sparing the authors blushes.

Next came the bowtie and shirt. Lucien feared that the briefs might be next to go. That would be a stretch too far, Lucien wanted William small and exposed but not quite like that. If someone burst in they would look like they were up to something. He allowed himself a small breath as Liam fell short of total nakedness. Then he too relaxed. His fingers lifted to the table to drum his fingers upon the dining table to hurry William along.

William moved across the room with a swagger that fit a man still dressed to the nines. Lucien couldn't have that. Still, he waited, watched. his face was emotionless as he watched William fill one glass then the other with ruby red liquid. Silent which was good. He seemed to be quite firmly in his place. This was a pleasing development. He stayed silent and unmoving even as Liam got right up close to him.

"William is this a joke?" he snarled turning a displeased gaze up to William "You are in a scandalous state of undress, have you no shame?" he continued "Put the glasses down and put your shirt and trousers back on ... perhaps you are already drunk and have no need for the wine, if you can't behave like a a man of integrity and standards we will forgo dinner"

How is asking for a toast a joke? Liam wondered, as he recoiled a bit from the look of utter disgust that played across the blonde man's contorted face; however, as the harsh words continued to pour freely from the lawyer's snarling mouth - not unlike the wine from the bottle just a moment before - the author came to the stark realization that he was dressed down to just his satin shorts and silk socks!

"What the...?" he blurted, as he jerked away even further, so hard and so fast, that he ended up stumbling over his own two foot.

In a flash, he was staggering back, with both of the very full wine glasses still firmly grasped in each of his hands, yet, as he suddenly found himself falling sideways, he let go of both vessels, just so he could catch his sizable mass as it went crashing into the high-back chair that held much of his discarded wardrobe. Firmly gripping the back of the solid chair, he was mildly relieved to find it had the stability and the durability to handle his added weight. Letting slip an embarrassed moan, as he fought to regain his composure - if that were even possible at this point - an even deeper groan came next as he took in the horrific sight of his splattered attire.

There, laid out before him, was his once pristine dress shirt looking like it had just been used to soak up the expelled fluids found at a crime scene. To make matters even worse, his trousers were just as equally ruined, seeing that all of the contents of the second glass had poured itself across the fine fabric, more than likely soaking them through to the satin lining found within.

Struck silent by not only his mortifying state of undress, but the added distress of his ruined garments, Liam simply looked to the lawyer for some sort of explanation.

"How?" he wanted to ask, no, beg of the revulsed man, who appeared far more reserved than he had any right to, given the bizarre circumstances. "How did this happen?" he would've liked to have questioned, if it weren't for the fact that his throat had gone bone dry the moment his face had turned an embarrassing shade of bright red.

Lucien's expression did not change as William pulled away with a look of shock and horror. Though the reaction amused him there was just enough actual disgust at the risk that any onlooker bursting in might think they were caught inflagranti in some sordid semi-public display kept his expression suitably harsh. The vampire watched realization play in the author's glassy eyes. They were quite attractive eyes, even Lucien could admit that. Sadly as with any butcher looking at any cut of meet Lucien was not too interested in Williams baby blues.

Lucien had no verbal response to Williams blurting he just lay his head on his hand and tutted as he watched the author stumble away.

Like some common drunkard, William fell over his own feet and against the chair. Losing the contents of the two glasses. Lucien had warned him to put those down first. People always came to regret not doing what he told them. Like some silent farce, the scene played out before him in slow motion. The stumble, the spill, the delicious look of horror as what had been white turned red. Face and shirt. William stood himself up and Lucien still did not move or speak. He just kept his look of self-righteous disappointment.

He spoke only when the blushing author turned to him, lips moving like a fish as he fought for his words no doubt. It was almost piteous.

"Place your soiled clothes in a neatly folded pile then sit down William, clearly you have overindulged... " he sighed lifting his head and gesturing with his hand for Liam to keep his tongue stilled "I will fix this, they will be able to find you fresh clothes to wear and get these items to a dry cleaner ... I will be discrete" He rose then and left the room without waiting for a response. Hopefully, Liam would have learned that he was better just to do as he was told.

Stepping just outside the door he gestured Giovanni over and leaned in to whisper in his ear as he slipped a hundred dollar bill into his jacket "Mr. Dalgliesh stumbled on a bit of lifted carpet and regrettably, his suit is ruined please find him something to wear ... it will need to be quick so if it needs to be a spare kitchen uniform so be it, then can you collect the suit and ask the Maitre D' to have it sent to a dry cleaner, Finally Mr. Dalgliesh doesn't want to put you to any trouble so if you bring some cleaning supplies we'll set the place right"

Giovanni made to speak so Lucien shushed him "Not now my boy, Mr. Dalgliesh needs fresh clothes" with the waiter whisked away with suitable urgency Lucien slipped back inside to see what state the psychic was in.

Was Mr. Cordel trying to imply that Liam had already had one too many to drink? How was that even possible? He had only just arrived, or at least it felt like he had, but clearly enough time had passed for him to lose complete control of himself. Why else would he be standing in the private suite of a five-star restaurant in just his skintight briefs? The funny thing was, as he began to follow the man's orders, which included neatening up the mess that was once his flawless evening attire, he found himself feeling just as clearheaded as he had upon his arrival. Mortified and humiliated, but still lucid, it made what happened next all the more difficult for the affluent psychic to swallow.

Watching as the lawyer excused himself, it wasn't very long before Giovanni was rejoining them, and the startled look on his handsome face spoke volumes, so much so, the author felt compelled to apologize the second he came within earshot. "I'm sorry," was all he said, as he pled with his bright-blue eyes; however, it would be the server who would insist, as he set down a bucket of cleaning supplies, that it was he and the establishment who should be sorry, for clearly it was they who were in the wrong for having shabby furnishings, such as an unruly carpet, which could cause such chaos. Feeling the fool either way, Liam was about to insist that they split the difference and share the blame, when he found himself being handed a pile of clothes that couldn't have been more at odds with his former, hand-tailored attire.

What...what on earth was he being asked to don? It...it was shapeless and...and so rough to the touch, not to mention it smelled like...like a mix of onions and cabbage! Where had it been stored? In the kitchen's vegetable bins? And...and had someone wore it before him? It...it smelled of sweat, too! Right? That was what he was smelling and...and, well, seeing, as he held up the dull white jacket with its slightly yellowed pit stains. There...there was no way he was wearing any of this! But as his eyes darted from one man to the other, landing on Gio in the end, he could tell that this was the best that he could come up with in the moment.

It was either this or, well, this.

With a look of disgust - or maybe it was just defeat - plastered on his face, Liam donned the unflattering uniform that made his skin both itch and crawl as it came into contact with the synthetic cloth of both the oversized top and baggy, checkered pants. Thankful that there wasn't a mirror in sight, since he knew he looked a right mess, he comforted himself just a little by returning his imported, leather dress boots to his feet.

From riches to rags, he thought, with a sour expression, as he watched the humble server carefully bundle up the bulk of his soiled clothes and then whisk it all away without another word spoken. From prince to pauper, he continued to inwardly lament, as he returned to his seat, finding it a small challenge to even look his guest in the eye.

---

Liam's Updated Dinner Attire

They had gone somewhat past implication. Lucien had point-blank stated that William had drunk too much when he first stripped down to his underwear. It was not something Lucien genuinely believed of course, but if he only said things he believed he'd be out of a job. Of course, short of telling Liam that he had stripped on command like some gentleman of the night drunkenness was the only reasonable explaination. Well the more he thought on it the more he considered that he could have said that Liam might be having a traumatic brain injury but that seemed unnecessarily worrying and William might have had ideas about seeing a doctor.

Lucien watched quietly as Liam stumbled out an apology to the waiter. What a state William was in, it made Lucien feel good about his chances to finally snare the psychic. He enjoyed Liam, he was an amusing distraction from the stresses of the new life. Lucien did enjoy the author's form too. Not in a strongly sexual way but in an artistic way. The way one might enjoy the statue of David. He had planned to be a little friendlier tonight. his opening suggestion intended to reduce Liam's swagger a bit but only by stripping him of his bling temporarily not his entire outfit. To be plain, dining with a man in dirtied kitchen uniform was not thrilling for him either. Perish the thought of people seeing.

"Giovanni my boy, we must go to great pains to ensure Mr. Dalgliesh is not seen like this, be sure to impress upon the dry cleaner the importance of speed, Mr Dalgleish will need his clothes back to go home" He instructed, eyes on Liam not on the waiter. "Yes'r" the frantic reply as the waiter hurried away. With him gone and the door shut Lucien sat down again to wait on Liam redressing himself.

There was no sense of cruel victory in Lucien's eyes, in fact, there was genuine pity and concern. It was pitiful for them both to be faced with a dinner where Liam smelled of cabbage and sweat. As if he had been pilloried. Lucien had no interest in dining with a condemned man. He very nearly regretted the order he'd given when Liam arrived but .... Liam had needed bringing down a peg or two.

William looked an odd picture in the uniform and then his own fancy, gold-capped boots. No doubt the boots helped William feel at least a little like the affluent author he'd been just half an hour before. He did look a state, they'd both have to do their best to ignore it. Once William sat down Lucien stood up "I'm sorry William" he sighed "I had hoped they could find you something more suited to a man of your caliber ... Alas even I can't fix all your mistakes perfectly" he made his way around to lean on the table in front of William "Still I will manage the situation and protect you from the embarrassment of anyone else finding out"

Carefully he lifted William's chin to make eye contact, hopefully, Liam would keep his head still and his eyes up. It was a sink or swim moment.

For a man whose livelihood relied on the use of words, it would seem a damn shame that Liam wouldn't be able to utter even a single one when he needed to the most, but the author knew, he truly knew, that if he made any attempt to speak at this point, he would only end up apologizing, profusely and repeatedly, for a situation he still couldn't quite grasp.

Wouldn't him rambling on incoherently only make matters worse?

He surely thought so.

Anyway.

How had this evening, which he had been dreading - and rightfully so, it seemed! - spiraled so far off of the rails, in such a swift manner, that it truly seemed a fruitless endeavor to make any effort to right all that was wrong with it? Yet, as far as he could tell, that was exactly what the lawyer was planning to do.

He was already making arrangements to have Liam's soiled attire tended to and he was also making assurances that only those within this room would be the wiser of what had occurred. And while this should've put the psychic's mind at ease, it simply didn't. If anything, it only confused him even more so, especially since only days earlier the very same man had seemed intent, no, hellbent on smiting him where he sat.

Why was he helping him now, when he could've easily jumped on the opportunity, at the bare minimum, to severely damage Liam's reputation by making his inappropriate actions known? Had he really come here this evening to bury the hatchet, so to speak, to help mend the bridge that Liam and his agent had nearly burned to the ground?

On the surface, the answer appeared to be yes; however, as the calm and collected man came to loom large over a sheepish looking Liam, the psychic couldn't help himself from feeling even more uneasy about what had already occurred and what was yet to come.

The man's bone-cold touch certainly didn't help matters.

Wanting to pull away, to look away, all Liam could do was meet the man's unwavering gaze. If this was the moment where the other shoe dropped, so be it, he would take his medicine like a man, not like some simpering fool. He had already made a serious mess of things, so the least he could do was cooperate, in full, with whatever the man wanted to do next, even if every fiber of his being said he shouldn't.

Lucien had aimed to dull William down a bit from the flamboyant playboy who had swaggered in before. He had certainly done that, the swagger was gone. He looked cowed and penitent. More so than Lucien had intended but it could be made into a situation he still drew benefit from.

On some people, a bit of silence was like a fine ring. elevating.

Plus no distractions from his mission to instill in Liam a sense of obligation.

His fingers didn't move as Liam let his gaze be lifted to meet Lucien's. They held Liam's chin carefully and firm. Almost possessive ... he did feel slightly possessive of Liam as a hunter might his quarry. Or a master his slave. Was Liam a slave? Lucien supposed that would be for the author to wrestle with if the suggestion landed and had the desired effect. Lucien had never tried such a big undertaking before. He inhaled perhaps as sharply as Liam was and marshaled his concentration.

"William when you think of me you will always remember that I have always protected you from the consequences of your errors, even when those errors nearly cost you everything," He said clear and emotionless eyes fixed on Williams in a hypnotic stare.

It did not sit ...

Not even slightly, well not magically anyway. Maybe Liam would still be convinced of his own volition. No magic required. If not well he'd have to try again. It was frustrating. Not fatally so though, not yet.

"William, tell me how you feel," he said gently as he released William's chin "Are the boots helping you feel at least slightly normal?" He enquired. The implication being of course that William was no longer his normal self.

Turning slightly Lucien picked up one of the discarded glasses, a small pool of wine still resting in the bottom. He topped it up to the halfway point and offered it out. Conciliation and consolation ... or perhaps just bait. A litmus test for whether Liam felt like maybe he could be drunk.

"I told Giovanni that you would mop up the wine spill on the floor ... " he raised in a quiet nudge. The sight of Liam reduced to a floor scrubber might at least be some consolation for his inability to make the psychic feel obligated to him.

The haze that washed over Liam as the lawyer spoke to him in a very pointed fashion, gripped chin and all, only worked to make matters worse, as far as the already confused author was concerned. Unable to remain focused on anything beyond the man's piercing, pale-gray gaze, the words that fell from the lawyer's lips could've easily been spoken in another tongue, since they essentially fell on deaf ears.

Or did they?

...always protected you..., his mind managed to register, along with the faint notion that this individual had actually meant him no real harm.

Had...had he really only been acting on the behalf of others as he came to inform Liam of his contractual misstep? Was he really in the author's corner, rooting for him to overcome this hurdle, instead of being crushed by it? It...it was so hard to tell, especially since the man played his part with such effortless skill. But now that they were here, alone, in this semi-intimate space, it seemed as if he had an entirely different agenda, that is, if he had an agenda at all.

"Confused," Liam confessed, as he regained his right to move freely, as his chin was finally released. "Uh, sure," he then added, with a curious expression, as the man's unexpected question about his footwear continued to mess with his muddled mind.

Watching now as the lawyer made another attempt to set things right by refilling one of the glasses that the psychic had unceremoniously dumped all over the place, the author inwardly wondered if consuming alcohol - actually, more alcohol - was the best way to carry on. Hadn't that already gotten him into this fine mess? Did he really want to add more fuel to the fire? He didn't exactly feel intoxicated, at least not how he had any other time in his life, upon consuming too much liquor, but he also felt far from right in the head. So when the distraction came in the form of being asked to further clean up his mess, Liam practically jumped at the opportunity, just to avoid appearing like an ingrate by refusing the man's offering.

"Y-yes. Of course," he sort of sputtered, as he swiftly got up from his seat and moved towards the large stain. "It...it's the least I can do for Gio," he stated, a bit more firmly, as he dropped to his uniform-clad knees, only to find himself at a loss for which cleaning agent to use or even how to use it.

"Do you have any recommendations?" he awkwardly asked, with a sour-looking sidelong glance, after a dreadfully long moment of fussing with the foreign contents of the bucket.

Confused was something he supposed. At least William was unsettled at least. That helped a bit. He'd had some effect and William was less cocksure and that swagger was gone. Reservation suited Liam.

"I see, you have been through the wringer... it happens, No one else will know" he said. Liam had faced the stick already and Lucien didn't feel safe enough to use more after the suggestion failed. it was carrot time.

The refusal of the wine returned a smile to his face at least. He could not be sure it was because Liam believed he must be drunk but it seemed likely. Of course, William had latched to the chance to clean in order to avoid having to actually say no. The absence of a yes was still a no. As Liam sprang up Lucien frowned first in irritation that William was cleaning for Gio not because Lucien had asked him to and then second in longing as he put the wine down. bloody hell, he missed wine. Still, he knew by now that the fleeting pleasure was not worth the lingering discomfort.

He watched Liam drop to his knees from his perch on the table and did his best to pretend that the display of servility and submission was for his benifit. Not for Gio's. Glancing at the door he tried to remember not to hold it against the boy. He had been attentive and no doubt he'd return soon so they could order dinner. Not that Lucien could eat anything. It wasn't Gio's fault that William would not give Lucien what the lawyer felt he was entitled to.

The awkwardly posed question made his brow flinch in irritation and he returned to his seat, sat before Liams prostrated form. He did not answer for a few moments "William do I look like a man who would let himself make a mess, Find something to scrub the stain with and put your back into it, the effort matters more than the execution I'm sure" No doubt the establishment would be sure to clean the floor to perfection after they left whatever Liam did.

Watching Liam knelt as he did calm him though and the snapped remark burned off any irritation. hopefully, he could get the proud author into this muted state again soon, perhaps on a more long-lasting basis. "Once that is cleaned up we should order you some food, I'd bet you are hungry" he added Tone back in that near kind, gentle cadence he'd used before Liam rose to clean.

HE could turn on a knife-edge, flexibility made for an effective lawyer and right now he didn't have the safety net of suggestion to catch him if he pushed too far.

Giving a quick glance to his left and then his right, before returning his gaze to the bucket of supplies, which sat waiting by his side, Liam came to realize that his options were quite limited when it came to procuring himself a rag. Any why wouldn't they be? This was a five-star restaurant, not some mom and pop shop where the walls would be lined with enough cleaning products to choke a horse. That being said, why hadn't Gio brought an appropriate cloth to soak this mess up? Surely they had something of that nature in their supply closet. Had he been so rattled by finding Liam in such a suggestive state of undress that he hadn't been able to think clearly?

Liam could certainly relate to such a befuddled state of mind.

Letting a sigh escape his lips, as he looked down at the puddle of wine that was doing an excellent job of setting itself up within the fine fibers of the costly carpet, the author proceeded to lean forward just far enough so that he could snatch the equally fine linen napkin from the nearby table. Having noticed it just seconds before, artfully styled at one of the two place setting, it really was his best choice. It was meant for cleaning, after all, wasn't it? It wasn't like he was going to remove a sleeve of his ill-fitting shirt or, dare he think it, sacrifice his imported, silk scarf, which dangled from the arm of the high-back chair, where his handsome coat still sat unscathed.

This will do, he thought, as he returned to the task at hand.

"Are you not hungry?" he then openly asked, inwardly wondering if he had managed to spoil the man's appetite, as he got to banishing the red stain to the best of his ability. "We...we could call it a night, if you'd prefer," he offered, as he doused the carpet in a cleanser that clearly contained bleach, seeing that the strong scent was now wafting up from the floor. "If you would like to depart even now, I would certainly understand," he would also offer, as he continued to scrub at the spot, looking more like Cinderella before the ball and far less like the princely figure he had appeared to be, earlier in the evening. "There's no need for both of us to wait for Gio to return with my laundered clothes."

The sight of Liam on his hands and knees scrubbing was engaging enough, for a little while. There was something to be said for the spectacle of seeing him brought so low, being unable to play an active part in it somewhat reduced how entertaining the whole experience was. Lucien knew though, to his dissatisfaction, that he'd put all he had into that last ineffective suggestion. He needed that crutch to really toy with Liam in the way he would want to.

Eventually, he lost interest altogether and his eyes left Liam's prone form

Was he not hungry? Hunger as if Liam knew what that was. Lucien was unceasingly hungry. It never ended gnawing and gnawing at him. "I will eat too, obviously" he said. He would eat from Liam, whatever happened he'd decided that. He didn't want to kill him though. It was senseless to break one's toys.

Liam needed to be fed up before Lucien could chow down ... eurgh no ... Dine on. Civility Lucien, you are not an oik or yuppie.

Lucien turned back to Liam to address this new talk of him leaving "William self-pity is not a good look on you" he replied with a sigh of exasperation "I am aware that I could leave if I wanted, let you stew in embarrassment but I have no desire to. I planned to join you for dinner and clear the air and that is what I intend to do, now get that done then sit back at the table and pick out dinner, the night is not lost."

When Liam was done and seated again Liam called Giovanni back "We are ready to order ... Well not quite, I want to know what you like ... " he said nose in a menu of food he couldn't eat. Ultimately all his choices were things Giovanni had recommended. After all, Lucien abhorred waste so he needed to make sure they would have a diner. He wondered as he looked over at William to hear his order whether such rich food would change the taste of Liam's blood.

He'd have to try it and see.

Maybe it was Liam who had lost his appetite after all, because as he returned to his seat and looked over the menu, presented to him by a hyperattentive Gio, he honestly couldn't find it in himself to select a single thing found within its slim pages. Even the evening's specials didn't sound all that appetizing, which was hard to believe, seeing that two of them were the author's absolute favorites.

Thankfully, yet again, the server had the psychic's back. So instead of allowing Liam to look the fool once more, he skillfully and swiftly selected both for the men, insisting that they were the best dishes the establishment had to offer.

"I will also return with a fresh bottle," Gio noted, just before he excused himself once more.

With the server gone, Liam allowed himself to relax, just a little. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, the author felt uneasy the moment the ruggedly handsome man returned to the room. He had a feeling that it had everything to do with the fact that his sophisticated, posh persona had been stripped away the moment he had decided to remove nearly all of his clothes, but lingering on such a thought only made him feel tense all over, as well as a bit nauseous. So, instead, he banished such a disturbing notion from his mind. Besides, shouldn't he be more concerned with what Mr. Cordel thought of him?

"I want you to know that I came here this evening to do exactly that, to clear the air," he offered, as he went to reach for his glass of wine, only to stop himself just shy of actually touching it. "But, instead, I have only managed to make matters worse," he continued, as he finally met the man's steely gaze. "Far worse. Perhaps even irrevocably so," he lamented, regardless of the fact that the lawyer had already made mention of salvaging the evening.

"I am sincerely sorry for my lewd behavior," he stated, in an unwavering voice. "If there is anything I can do to make amends, right here, right now, just utter your wishes and I will do the best I can to fulfill them."

Liam was visibly wrecked by the night's events. That marble-esq aura and physique were replaced by a depleted mess of nerves and soiled kitchen cloth in a chair that suddenly seemed too big for him. A most sorry sight and yet it seemed to have put Liam in the state Lucien had wanted him in, more or less.

Poor Gio seemed to be beating himself up about it but there was always collateral damage. He was sure the tip at the end of the night would make up for it. No doubt money mattered most to Gio, how much could waiters get paid 35,000 a year?

Certainly not enough to scoff at a tip with a few zeros

A piteous show of contrition poured out of of the author across the table. Lucien was embarrassed on his behalf but he listened with a straight-faced expression showing little more than a slight tinge of boredom. He did not need to hear Liam's pity party. Would Lucien still be sat here if Liam had made things Irrevocably sour? For a seemingly cultured and educated man, Liam was quite stupid. He definitely needed to learn the value of letting something drop and keeping his mouth shut.

Suddenly though William found something of use to say "I forgive you, William, we all make mistakes ..." well most people did anyway, Even Lucien if he was being truthful but he wouldn't admit that out loud "There is really no need ... " he began before seeming to be struck by an idea "Well there is one thing you might do for me here and tonight ... if you are sure about wanting to do something for me" he said slowly as if he was still thinking it over "But first, dinner, you will need a refilled stomach ... we can talk about it after you have eaten"

As if on cue Giovanni returned. He was carrying a plethora of fine food. It took him a few trips to fill the table with delicacies. Clearly on a normal night dinner would have been conveyed by a few of Gio's colleagues too so as to fill the table in one but he had taken note of the need for discretion. His diligence preventing Liam's shoddy attire from being seen by anyone else. Gio didn't utter one complaint and stopped only when he had refilled both glasses. "Would Sirs like anything else?" He asked seemingly hovering in midair for an answer. Lucien nodded and stood up from the table.

"Indeed you can Giovanni" he smiled "Myself and Mr. Dalgliesh appreciate the effort you have gone to, we both thought you might be hungry so we want you to sit at this table, eat your fill, drink some wine and relax for a little while if anyone asks we will say you were kept busy in here" He promised. It took a little more coaxing but eventually, he got Gio to sit and eat. Lucien for his part sat in the corner. Missing the days when he could eat and drink fine food. Smoke cigars and feel not just sated but stuffed. All he ever felt now was unceasing hunger.

Whilst Giovanni engaged in small talk, especially with Liam Lucien tried to avoid it. He wasn't good at it and he was on edge with the anticipation of what he would soon get.

It was an agonizing wait but soon Gio had left them again and Lucien returned to the table in order to stand by Liam. "Now for that small favour you can do for me ... I need to eat," he said "Or more accurately drink" he replied slightly muffled by his emerging fangs "I want some of your blood," He said leaning in "Wrist or neck is best" he added not fully in the plane of reality. The hunger reigned now.

For someone who seemed entirely agreeable to making their situation better, Liam found it odd that the lawyer would invite Gio to not only dine with them, but basically dine in his stead.

One minute the author was sitting across from his guest, and the very next he was gazing upon the face of a man who had only ever looked upon him with respect and admiration. Well, before tonight that was certainly how the loyal server had often responded when he saw Liam enter this establishment. But now? Now it was hard to tell.

While his charming smile remained, partnered with nothing but the kindest of flattering words, there was something off, something even more than a little unpleasant about the way that he now looked - or was it how he didn't look? - at Liam.

Something had changed between the two men, and not for the better, but the author was going to have to accept it for whatever it was. If he wanted to walk away from this evening with even an ounce of his dignity left intact, he was going to have to play along with whatever game the lawyer was now playing. If that meant dining with Gio, so be it. He would do that and, perhaps, even more, just to smooth things over, to essentially right the ship that he had nearly sunk with his inability to control himself.

This meant acting like nothing was all that wrong, even when it seemed like every last thing was.

"It was my pleasure," would be Liam's departing remark, with the warmest of smiles, as Gio finally took his leave at the end of the elaborate feast, which was, as expected, filled with the most delicious, gourmet food, but also, regrettably so, some of the worst conversation he had ever had with another being.

Who knew that one person could know so much about the history of wallets and purses?

Temporarily relieved to be free of the rambling simpleton, who thankfully had his looks to fall back on, since his interests were more than a little bizarre, Liam felt himself grow tense once more as Mr. Cordel returned to his side, looking like a cat that was about to pounce on a bowl brimming over with fresh cream.

Tempted to ask if everything was okay, if everything was going according to whatever plan he was currently playing at, the psychic found himself practically choking on his own tongue as the inquiry got stuck in his throat.

Why hadn't Liam put two and two together sooner?

The evening hours. The bone-cold touch. The literal lack of interest in breaking bread together.

It was all right there, set out before him - clue, after clue, after clue - yet he hadn't been able to see the man for what he truly was.

Liam hadn't lost his mind, nor drank himself silly, he had just been toyed with, made to act the fool for the amusement of others. No. For the amusement of one man, one very manipulative - perhaps even sadistic? - supernatural being, who was now asking for a small favor, as if it were a cup of sugar that he desired instead of Liam's ruby-red essence.

"That's what this was all about?" he asked, in the steadiest voice he could muster, as he shot the vampire a sidelong glance that certainly played off as more contemptuous than cordial. "Why all the pomp and circumstance?" he then inquired, as he pushed back his chair and rose to not only his booted feet, but his full, broad-shouldered form.

"Couldn't you have simply taken what you wanted, instead of causing all of this unnecessary drama?" he pressed a bit further, as he took a step closer, not caring in the least if his now raised voice was overheard by those who sat just beyond the walls of the private suite. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Lucien?"

Lucien hadn't noticed the change in the way Gio looked at Liam until now. After all, Gio had not looked down on Lucien, if anything he looked more adoring after Liam was stripped off. Impressed perhaps. Certainly, he looked like he would walk on hot coals to fetch Lucien a new crab fork ... Oh how he longed to use a crab fork again ... if the lawyer so asked. Then again Lucien still looked wealthy. so that explained it ... Did Gio not get that Liam remained the wealthier of the two men? Even in kitchen scrubs.

Watching the conversation between waiter and author was illuminating, the cracks in Gio's face, Disgust, anger ... betrayal. Such strange feelings almost like he was looking at something he had once loved but now that he saw beneath its outer layer he found it repugnant. And all the talk of wallets. Gio was a prospector then? A gold digger in a nice bow tie. Lucien could see how sad it made Liam. This was an unexpected spectacle. He'd actually been trying to be nice and for it, the universe awarded him with front row seats to a victorian morals play wrapped up in a farce. 'Beware ye the dishonest waiter with gold in his eyes or misfortune may fall upon your roof slates'.

He almost laughed as Liam bid Gio farewell. Would Liam ever eat here again? Would he be welcome here again? Something for another time. Lucien had waited far too long.

It was quickly apparent however that Liam did not agree. In his mind then Lucien did not deserve even one drop of sustenance. After all, Lucien had done. Saved him from years of litigation and the disgrace of bankruptcy, seen off an agent that was using him, shielded him after he stripped off, let him sit across from a man he was obviously attracted too and eat the finest food. All that and William would give him NOTHING in return!

et tu, brute?

He was too angry to speak, he could feel something rising up in him. Barely held back like a feral cat on a hot tin roof.

He could have taken what he wanted, he had done so and tried to take more. What he wanted but also what he deserved and now he was taking what he needed. The more Liam shouted and tried to square up the angrier Lucien felt. There was only the anger now. No thoughts just anger and the thumping of William's hot blood in his ears.

Then William called him by his first name. Like they were equals ... no the tone didn't say equals. Like Lucien was lesser. Lucien was bloody pissed.

There was no vocal response just a feral roar of fury and pain. Claws stretched from his fingers to dig into his palms before his hands stretched unnaturally. His mouth stretched too as his jaw spread and cracked. As horrifying as it would be to watch it was worse to experience. It hurt so unimaginably badly though Lucien's thoughts were not on that nor would he remember when this was over.

He launched into Liam's fangs and Claws digging and savaging first through the uniform then into Liam's flesh. The vampire who had been Lucien Cordel made a pleased noise at the first sight of the ruby liquid better than any wine. He lapped at it furiously as he grabbed William tight.

Only ... it was not sweet or fine like it should have been. The tramp he'd drank his first night had tasted better. Some part of him thought maybe it was the soiled uniform so he tore off a part of it and tried again. The same.

Vile Ichor, tainted with the taste of rusting scrap, dirt, and an almost waxy, chalky quality. It made him feel spacy and unwell and he spat it down at William's face unswallowed. Still, it had done its work and he began to settle.

The claws retracted, the fangs shrank back leaving only aches in his jaw and fingers and he found his voice.

"You will never talk to me like that again" he ordered, Willing it to be heeded but he felt little more than a flash of magic like a lightbulb blowing. There wasn't even a suggestion never mind one settling in Liam's mind. "Why do you taste like crap? ... I've had vagrant that tasted better, you were meant to taste good" He wasn't himself again yet. Panting on top of Liam.

---

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Looks+outfit

---

Zaharia was here on her own hunt, well a planned hunt as she would easily find an available dateless man and slide in to sit beside him to woo enough to feed from. It was something she did often so it was second nature to her to do. She was dressed beautifully and feeling it with the sway in her hips as she would find her target and give a little pout to him and a sad story on how she too was stood up.

Sitting at a table, she had her hands folded on her lap, her hand tucking curls from her face as she flirted with her dinner; it made them sweeter after all when she finally did take a bite from them.

Her attention was on them but something familiar was catching her attention. A cologne she recognized was in the air and she would let her gaze drift and search. Was Liam here? Politely she would excuse herself from the gentleman and stood up with her purse in hand as she then started to carefully look around. Her senses also told her there was another vampire around and that alone had a mix of worry and anger flashing through her at her favorite psychic possibly mingling with another vampire with or without his knowledge. Call her mildly possessive but she didn't trust other vampires to not harm people so she wanted to check.

---

Will find them after 2 rounds =3

Perhaps Liam was drunk after all, because going toe to toe with a nosferatu - whom he had already done a pretty good job of upsetting - had to be one of the most ill-conceived moves he could've made, not just this evening, but in the entirety of his life.

What exactly had he hoped to gain by standing up to this supernatural? His admiration for being so ballsy? Surely not. His respect for being willing to risk everything to salvage what was left of his dignity? Doubtful. So what then was his motivation for making such a brazen and - many would surely say, upon hearing a retelling of the horrific tale - irresponsible move?

Upon reflection, on another day, at another time, under much safer circumstances, the psychic would surely try to convince himself that he had simply had enough, that he had finally grown tired of being on the receiving end of so much misfortune, which there had been plenty of as of late. But here? Now? In this very moment? He honestly couldn't think of one good reason why he had just done and said what he did.

Regretfully, at this point, it truly didn't matter, because the lid on this particular Pandora's box had literally just become unhinged!

Watching as the vampire's fine features twisted into a mixture of utter disgust and absolute contempt, such a transformation would seem downright trivial compared to the macabre, bone-crunching metamorphosis that would occur only seconds later. Where once there stood a well-dressed, debonair individual, oozing with class and sophistication, now stood a seething, claw- and fang-wielding monstrosity that couldn't keep its uncontrollable anger, no, unbridled fury in check, even if it knew how to.

Struck silent and still, as if he had just caught the eye of Medusa, if given the chance, the psychic would've been thankful not to have actually been turned to stone, for the next thing he knew, he was crashing to the carpeted floor of the private suite. Landing hard, as a man of his stature and solid mass tends to when being so ill-prepared for such a rough tumble, the wind being knocked from his lungs would burn, but not as badly as the scorching hot sensation he would soon feel across his heaving chest and flexing neck as razor sharp claws tore through his ill-fitting top and needle-like fangs punctured his now exposed skin!

Flailing around like a fish out of water, the panicked psychic would skillfully mimic such a desperate and defenseless creature as he also gasped for air. Eyes wide with fear, the psychic's vision would begin to blur, but not before the entire room around him turned a violent shade of red.

Blood red.

Bucking hard against the maniacal monster as it relentlessly tore at his vulnerable form - sending ribbons of red everywhere - and feasted on his unwilling flesh - which was becoming more and more exposed from the waste up, as each terrifying, cloth-shredding second passed - Liam's will to live burned strong, but...but how? How was he going to survive this ordeal when he had so little to defend himself with? It would take a small miracle to save him from suffering a bad end.

Either that, or a power the psychic typically took for granted, since it was always at the ready and cost so little to employ.

Tempted to laugh in the very face of danger, as the vampire came to realize he had just tapped into the sourest tasting psychic the power of shroud could provide, Liam found himself swiftly recoiling in disgust as the bitter blood was spat directly into his face! Sputtering a series of unintelligible words, as his terror-soaked mind tried to work through this favorable twist of fate, the psychic found himself unable to do a single thing but simply smirk back at the unsatisfied beast, once he had managed to regain control of his quivering, now blood-spattered lips.

The victory, while seemingly small on the surface, felt heavenly once it fully settled in.

While others of his kind had taken delight in Liam's flavor, even going as far as to deem him a rare and acquired taste - especially after they had taken a liking to him for a number of other reasons - this hoity-toity fop didn't have it in him to lower himself or his lofty standards to such a degree. As badly as he had wanted this, he simply couldn't bring himself to accept his own misfortune, and it showed on his face and in his choice of vulgar words.

But alas I don't, he thought, as his smirk deepened. "Perhaps your palate needs some refinement," he then dared to utter, in a raspy voice, which prompted that nauseating wave of terror to return the moment the unnecessary taunt fell from his stained lips.

Liam's bucking was like that of a kitten, weak, wasted, and doomed to failure. Like trying to resist the press of a car crusher with styrofoam. The monster in Lucien was strong and beneath him William for all that toning and muscle mass was weak. All the unturned were weak. mere walking bags of blood for the taking. Even if they tasted horrible. It is impossible to say whether Lucien (Or at least the monster he became in blood lust) Would have killed William but for him tasting so bad.

Lucien liked to think he had more class than that. We know he does not.

Coming down from the blood lust into the high slightly nauseous state left by Williams shrouded blood he did get some pleasure from the recoil of disgust his spitting drew from William. Was there anything more degrading than having your own blood spat back into your face? The latest in a long line of indignities Liam had suffered tonight, most of which hadn't been on purpose. That spit had though. There was malice in it.

The pleasure was not to last not least because William still had the strength to smirk bellow him. There were no tears or whimpers of pain and surrender. Even after Lucien had savaged him he still did not completely break. He was becoming a stubborn challenge. One Lucien was still deciding on. Was it worth continuing with this overconfident wordsmith? or was it time to cut his losses?

That was something for another day though.

The pit in his stomach told him that another of his kind lingered nearby. Stronger than him and no doubt they would smell Liam's blood and come looking. Lucien had no desire to fight. Even with all his pride, he could not say that he would win. He knew he would not. His eyes played over the room looking for an exit and finding one in the form of a window just large enough for him to slip through.

He wasn't about to leave Liam's needling unanswered though. With a lip curled in a snarl of anger, he leaned into Liam's ear to whisper "Perhaps it does ... Your father will no doubt make for a fine aid in that regard" a gamble on whether Liam liked his father. It was well known in Ridgefield society that the elder Dalgliesh loved his son. He never shut up about him so Lucien felt safe in betting Liam was fond of him. He was an artist, their class would sell their soul for a good review.

Retort given, he roughly pushed himself up off Liam, he could feel the powerful other getting nearer. It was time to leave. He paused only a moment at the window to straighten his bowtie as ineffective as that was in the circumstances, Like straightening a picture frame at a bomb site, before he spoke again "William if you cause me trouble I will see to it that your father becomes just like me before I set him loose in public and watch the carnage"

Then he slipped out of the window and into the night.

---

Lucien has exited unless someone gives immediate chase

While the terror had already returned on its own, it was now amplified, nearly ten fold, by the wicked words that were uttered into Liam's ear and then tossed, every so casually, at him, from across the gore-splattered suite as the monster made a move to take his leave.

Shaking his head at first, the author was quick to realize that his ravaged body was now vibrating, from end to end, with a mixture of fear and disgust, as the horrific image of his beloved father being transformed into a bloodsucking lunatic filled his mind's eye. Liam, for his part, felt fairly capable of accepting whatever fate the universe deemed necessary for him, but the thought of his father being harmed in such a senseless way, a way that was more than likely meant to last an eternity - especially if this savage had any say in the matter - shook him to his very core.

He couldn't, no, simply wouldn't allow it to happen, even if it meant making a series of life-altering sacrifices to ensure the innocent man remained untouched.

On the verge of stating those exact thoughts, as he made every effort to scramble to his feet, Liam was struck silent once more, mid-move, as the formally-clad man took his stage-right exit not through the very available door, but through the window!

Watching as the revitalized ghoul threw open the delicate-looking structure, it would come as no surprise to the man, who had just been tossed about like a rag doll, that it didn't stand a chance against a similar show of force. In a flash, not only had the vampire vanished through the less obvious exit, easily escaping into the dark of night, but he had left a maw of splintered wood and shattered glass in his wake.

Recoiling, yet again, as bits of debris rained down, Liam was surprised to find himself actually standing, instead of kneeling upon the floor, as he had been just seconds before. Somehow, someway, he had managed to make it to his booted feet, propelled by the strong desire to remove his father from this now nightmarish scenario. For that's exactly what this was.

A fully realized, living and breathing nightmare.

But to what end?

Liam was certain such sinister details would make themselves known before too long, but for now, he had the far more important task of not only tending to his weeping wounds, but making every effort not to pass out from them, as his numerous gashes continued to leak his lifeforce like a freely flowing faucet left on by some seriously forgetful fool.

Zara had been moving calmly, her posture was poised and elegant as she walked and then all but stopped when the sweet sweet scent of blood tickled her nose and made her teeth hurt. No. She frowned deeply as she took to walking with a purpose now as she found the private room and without hesitation, pulled open the door as a well-dressed vampire took to a window to escape.

Glaring at the window, she wanted nothing more than to chase the clumsy new vampire into the ground only to find herself halting and shutting the door at the sight of Liam. Her dear friend, her psychic that she didn't want any harm to come to. A psychic who's blood was a rather... acquired taste that could knock her on her ass but she for some reason liked it. If she had a heartbeat, it would be pounding mercilessly in her chest but she didn't, there was no breath in her body but she was calm. Earily calm as she shut the door.

"Liam mo chara ... cad a tharla..." she called out gently to him as she wouldn't approach right away but stood still in place as her gaze rested on his tattered form. She was careful in her approach of him, a hand out to him to show she was here and meant zero harm to him but he needed healing; badly.

"Liam...what happened to you? " she asked him her tone pained and gentle at the same time. It was taking every inch of her supernatural willpower to not give chase to the one who left her friend like this. It was unacceptable. It was cruel. More so, it was enough for her to want to hunt them down and ash them into a pile so they never enjoyed another moonrise.

Expecting Gio to be the first to come running, as the undeniably startling sound of broken glass surely seeped out beyond the well-made walls of the once stately-looking suite, Liam was surprised to find himself suddenly standing, upon very shaky legs, in the company of yet another vampire.

"Zara?" he found himself asking, with a confused expression, as she made her way inside the blood-splattered scene, looking a bit too serene for his taste, especially compared to his terror-filled state.

Had she been witness to such carnage before? Hell, had she caused such nonsensical destruction herself?

While he knew her to be far more kind than the monster he had just been brutally assaulted by, his creative and currently horrified mind was quick to conjure up a gore-filled spectacle that easily starred her instead. She was one of his kind, after all, and capable of manipulating others to do her bidding with just a single glance and the utterance of only a word or two. Surely, if pushed by her true nature, by her overwhelming need to feed, she wouldn't think twice about committing a similarly heinous crime.

Wouldn't she?

Therefore, instead of moving towards her, his found himself taking a step back, with his hands subconsciously balling into fists as he did.

"I..." he began to answer, only to be cut off by the server he had expected to see a moment before.

"Our friend here has been in quite a state all evening, drinking and carrying on like an uncultured and uncontrollable fool," Gio disclosed, rather sharply, with a look of disdain that caught the psychic off guard, as he slipped in through the side door that connected the suite to the restaurant's kitchen, and the world beyond via a backdoor.

"I would strongly recommend removing him from the premises before the authorities arrive," he then stated, directly at Zara, in a tone and with an expression that said he wasn't messing around.

"Don't you think it best to do exactly that, William?" he then pointedly asked of Liam, as he worked to present the now confounded psychic with his surprisingly untainted topcoat that lay nearby, which the psychic would graciously accept without a single objection uttered, since he knew the price he and, more specifically, his father would pay if he caused Lucien even an ounce of trouble.

Zara was silent for a moment, watching Liam and then a sudden dangerous flash of color in her eyes as the man walked into the room. Liam was scared of her, she had never harmed Liam, after the first time she suggested him back at the store she hadn't done so to him before again. She had respected his boundaries and trusted him to not harm her as she wouldn't harm him.

"Liam...let's go, some air will do you good and I can heal you. I'm not going to hurt you, I give you my word, " she promised him as she would gather anything else. She needed zero encouragement to help him out of here and to leave the area.

When another server entered the room though to check on the noise that came from in here, she turned to them and locked eyes, "You see nothing, " she demanded of the server who would look like a deer in headlights for a brief moment before leaving. It was temporary but it gave time for them to leave without too much fuss and trouble.

She wanted to know who did this, who that vampire was and why they had been so idiotically stupid to leave in such a manner. Were they looking to get caught and killed? She hoped he lost his head on the way down and was a pile of ash that she wouldn't have to deal with later on.


Zaharia would go to Liam again, not touching him since he didn't want that but holding a hand out ahead of her to just encourage him to go. "Liam... " she said gently, smelling his blood; as tantalizing as it was to her nose, she was not about to make his night worse by taking a taste of him. Now though, she would let him take the direction he needed to get to his car or anywhere outside so that hopefully he would let her heal him and give her answers.

Bundled up in his coat that had cost him a small fortune - two times over, as a matter of fact, seeing that the first of its kind had been stolen from him - had Liam been in the right state of mind, he would've been thoroughly annoyed by the fact that the pricey garment's satin lining was currently getting soaked in liberal amounts of his pungent sweat and bitter-smelling blood. However, since he was truly more concerned with getting as far away from this gory scene and the deceptive individuals found within it - namely Gio - he simply fled, without hesitation or even an ounce of perceived annoyance, making his way towards the secondary door being offered to him.

Wanting to believe Zara and every last word that she had just uttered to him, he continued to find it a challenge to trust her, especially after he witnessed her messing with the mind of some random, nameless server neither of them knew beyond the walls of this establishment. Should he have realized that she had just done so for his benefit? Yes, he should've and easily could've had he been thinking clearly. But that was not the case right now, nor even was it by the time he burst through the heavy maintenance door, typically used by staff, which deposited him into the dimly-lit alleyway that sat behind the posh restaurant.

Staggering over bits of broken glass and wood - which more than likely came from a certain broken window above - the suddenly lightheaded psychic found it a challenge to go more than a few, sloppily-stepped feet before he was forced to cling to the nearest, sturdy-looking object, which just happened to be a low-lying dumpster. Gripping the edge of the foul-smelling bin with one hand, his other would come up to first bat at the sweaty locks of his tousled hair that were getting in his eyes, before being used to cover up his painfully parched mouth as he gagged upon the stench.

This evening was a disaster.

He was a disaster.

And all he wanted to do right now was drop to the dirty ground below, so he could curl up into the tightest ball possible, all in an effort to shut out every last, gut-punching aspect of this chilling nightmare, but, instead, he was kept on his feet by a pair of slim, yet surprisingly strong hands.

"Help me," was all he would repeatedly utter to the supernatural being who clearly had his back, even when he had stupidly turned it against her. "Please, Zara, help me."

Zaharia had no idea what happened here, she didn't know and hated it. Hated who caused it and hated that her friend was injured and in pain. He was scared of her, something she never wanted him to be of her. Yes she could be such a terrible thing if she wanted and she wanted to unleash that on the misbegotten vampire that had decided to harm one of her friends. That was not going to fly in her book and she was going to be searching for him.

She would follow close by Liam, helping with doors and getting him out of this place while glaring daggers at anyone who looked their way. The humans were smart enough to not gawk at them due to that. If looks could kill, the body count in this place would raise with each glance she made.

Once outside, she shut the door, moving close but stepping back as well as Liam made his way to a dumpster and held onto it. She would move to him, gripping and holding him up so he wouldn't fall. She wouldn't want him to hurt himself more, even if he pushed her away, she wouldn't go.

"Liam I will always help you. Where is your car? " she would ask him as she gently as her hand moved to ease one of his around her shoulder if he allowed the movement. She would gently reach and touch his chest if he wasn't pushing her away, "Please just stay with me long enough to get you somewhere safe so I can heal you, " she asked him, wanting him to focus in on her voice and how calm she was but her eyes were stormy. She was upset and worried; intensely furious at the vampire that had left.

His car. Right. That would require...keys, keys that may or may not still be on his person.

Pawing at the pockets of his coat with his one free hand, since his other was still clinging to the mouth of the dumpster - regardless of the fact that he was now being easily supported by Zara - Liam was actually surprised to find that he had more than a few of his personal belongings still within his possession, one of which was indeed a ring that contained keys to both of his homes and, more importantly, his brand-new, cheery-red Stingray that he parked...

Somewhere.

"I...it...here," was all he could initially muster, as he pressed the ring into the vampire's first available hand, not paying much mind to the fact that she'd probably been using both to hold him up. "I...I'm not feeling so good," he then mumbled, as the alley started to tilt, just enough to make him feel even more uneasy, that is, until the already slim lighting began to grow even dimmer.

Away. They had to get away from here, as far away as possible and as quickly as they could, especially if the cops were on their way. Zara and he couldn't be found here together, for they would surely blame her for his injuries, as well as the disaster of a room that had been left behind.

"I'm sorry," he then felt compelled to utter, as he leaned against her far more slim, yet capable form. "You...you're much too kind to...to be caught up in this madness," he continued to sputter, as his eyes began to burn with a dampness he hadn't seen coming.

"I don't deserve you."

Zara would continue to hold onto him, her grip firm and assured as she wouldn't let him slip or fall while he searched for his keys. Once located, she would walk with him to his car that was the most stunning shade of red she had ever seen. For a moment she could only stare and maybe wish she drove but no, now was not the time to think of those things as she needed to care for her friend.

She would shift her grip to grab the key from him, "It's ok, just stay awake alright? Listen to my voice Liam and just stay awake with me, alright? " she told him gently but firmly. It was a request, a pleading request that he not slip into darkness and let it claim him. She didn't know if he had vampire blood in his system and if he didn't, well, she didn't want to think of losing him at all.

Once he was in and situated, she looked behind her and checked before shutting him into the passenger seat of the car and then calmly walking to the front passenger seat and sliding in. She at least knew how to drive but it was rusty, she would slip the key in and turn it on to let it roar to life as she turned to him and would pull the seatbelt over him and buckle him in safely.

"Liam if you are in trouble or being threatened by someone, I will happily jump into any mess to aid you. You're my friend and I care about you, " she told him honestly as she would look at him, her hand cupping his face gently as her thumb stroked his cheek gently. Seeing him like this tore her up on the inside and so without a thought or care of what could happen, she would bite her palm and let her thick oozey blood fill her palm.

"I need you to drink this, it won't taste good I'm sorry but it will help you feel better faster, " Zara promised him as she would hold her hand to his lips and since he wasn't protesting, drank a few swallows of her blood. It would stain his lips as she pulled her hand back and licked her wound before sealing it shut while his heart worked to pump it through his body to heal his wounds.

"Just rest, I'll take you home, " she told him as she would get a jerky start with his car before finding the right safe speed to start driving and heading to his place.

---

Permissions were granted :)

A foggy, crippling blur.

The next few minutes - hell, more like the next half to full hour, for all the psychic would know or could fully comprehend - would play out around Liam as if he were not just utterly dazed and confused - which he was - but also strapped down inside some sort of torture device hellbent on destroying him, his mind, and whatever reality he once knew.

Fading in and out of consciousness, a series of incoherent words would fall from his lips, along with the pitiful moans of a man suffering - both physically and mentally - from severe trauma. Even after consuming an essence that should've worked to reduce his pain and suffering - which it slowly did - the terrified man would remain out of his mind with grief, for with every drop he drank, this overwhelming urge to spit it out would overtake him!

Was...was Zara trying to turn him? Was that her solution to this harrowing predicament?

He knew so little about her ways - their ways - and yet here he was entangled, no, ensnared deep within this world of the walking dead, a world his father would come to know, all too well, if he dared to utter even a single word about the monster who had caused all of this chaos. So, instead, he would focus on the only bit of comfort he could rely on at this point, which was the safety of his...

"Home," he would manage to echo, through blood-stained lips, as the world around him began to blur even more violently, as his sleek auto proceeded to eat up the road. "Home," he would repeat, every few miles, in an almost trance-like state, as his tortured mind vacillated between the horrors of this night...

And the ones yet to come.

Zara hoped that her blood would do the trick and make sure there were no fatal wounds on him. She didn't want him to die, she wanted him to live a long and human like life. Enjoying men and enjoying food and partaking in events. She wanted him to enjoy the sun still and his carefree life but if that vampire harmed him more than what she saw, then this should help, right?

It made her feel guilty to have him drink her blood, knowing the feeling of being forced to partake in it but these were different circumstances right? This was for life or death and she wanted him to live.

His words of uttering to go home was met with a nod, "I'm taking you home, don't worry Liam, " she told him gently as she drove to his place as carefully as she could. There were many reasons why she was careful driving but the big one was that she didn't want to attract attention to them as she was able to get back to Liam's lovely home. Pulling around to the front of the house, she would park and turn off the car and pull the keys out of the engine before slipping out of the car.

The woman would head around and open the passenger car door for him and if he wasn't protesting, unbuckle him, "Come on, let me at least get you inside and warmed up so I can heal you properly, ok? " she would ask him, knowing he was in shock because he had that look. That far away look that just spoke of the hell he went through and it made her want to rage at the moon for what had happened. Why him? Why harm him like this, it was cruel and it only added to her fuel to take care of him further.

Maybe it was her desire to make up for not entering the room sooner or to try and mend her past when no one dared to do the same for her. In the end though, she wasn't going to stop until she corned that vampire and had a few words.

Still in quite the stunned state as they arrived at his not-so-humble home in the hills of Graupel, Liam would later struggle to recall how he got from being buckled up inside his auto, dressed in not much more than a pair of tattered, checkered workpants and a blood-soaked topcoat, to being sprawled out across his king-size bed in only his designer briefs. Furthermore, he would be unable to tell anyone about how he went from being ravaged to fully restored, since somewhere along the way he had passed out cold.

He knew Zara had been with him along the way and, more importantly, that he had her to thank for his well-being, but that was about it. Everything else was basically a blur, a blip or nonexistent. Everything, that is, but the dread that he still felt, etched across his very soul, even after his body had been stitched back together.

There was no denying the fact that he and his father - and probably a number of any others - were now in serious danger. And to make matters a thousand times worse, he was told to keep his mouth shut. He couldn't mutter, utter, or even sputter a single word about who was threatening their lives, since that would directly lead to an irrevocable change in their very nature. For surely if the father was to be turned, the son wouldn't be too far behind, right?

Only time would tell, but, in the end, no matter how hard anyone pressed him for answers, Liam couldn't, simply wouldn't say a damn thing, since he valued the lives of those he loved the most.

Zara would help him inside, not sure where everything was but she had a decent enough of an idea to be able to get him to his room and help him get out of these clothes that he was in. She moved methodically, like an old time nurse taking care of a patient as she got some water on a cloth and would clean him while she also healed at the same time. She did so in silence, the look on his face, the dazed look had her feeling concerned for him even more.

She would have to wait to ask, Liam didn't look ready to be able to answer any questions from her right now. "Liam...I know you've been through a lot tonight. So when you are able I need to know who did this...he's a young vampire and he could harm others, " she told him gently as she continued to clean him up until there was not a speck of blood left on him. "A new vampire is ruled by just impulsive emotions...they struggle to tell wrong from right and only think of themselves...Liam my dearest friend, when you can I need you to tell me who that was so that I can show him there is a better way to go about things as a vampire, " Zara told him gently as she would help him get into his silken pajamas.

Not knowing how to cook really, she would get some tea and make a sandwich for him and set it on the table next to his bed, "I will stay with you as long as I can, " she told him before she would change right into that of a Large Canine and would move to lay on the bed with him with her head on his chest.

Zara had learned that dogs could be comforting and so maybe her not looking like herself would help as she kept her head on him.