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VINCENT ABBOTT<br/>
<span style="font-size: 15px">VAMPIR</span></div><div style="background:url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/bd/ca/f6/bdcaf628b62f59d21d1dcfc3ec186be1.jpg);
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font-family: Marcellus;"><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#000"><abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="DIONYSUS → ISIAH'S HOUSE"><i class="fa-map-marker"></i>LOCATION</abbr> |  <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="NPCs"><i class="fa-comment"></i>INTERACTION</abbr> |  <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="ISIAH"><i class="fa-comments"></i>MENTIONS</abbr></span></b></div><div style="margin: auto;
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Marcellius;
text-align: justify;">There was something about the metallic smell of a freshly sharpened knife that brought those familiar excited tingles down one's spine and a placid smile. The blade was sharp enough to draw blood upon the lightest touch, clean and sharp enough to see a detailed reflection and deflect the ceiling light off. It was a finely crafted tool and a new one that Vincent had yet to use. Well, that would very soon be remedied as someone so kindly gave him the perfect opportunity to take it for a test run. The circumstances were not the happiest, but when were they ever?<br/>
<br/>
Across from the knife-wielding criminal, Vincent Abbott, sat a bloodied vampire, bound, but not gagged. No, Vincent wanted to hear what he had to say before they proceeded to the real purpose of this meeting. It was the least he could do. There was no use in the man shouting, he knew better than thinking anyone would come to his aid. Not on Vincent's turf, not in <i>Dionysus</i>, tied to an old sturdy chair on the second-floor lounge. There was no point in even taking him to the backroom except to save the floor from being stained with blood.<br/>
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There were comfortable seats provided for Vincent to sit back in as he looked over the provided tools. Though, only one had captured his eyes and attention in whole. He always had preferred knives over everything else.<br/>
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Observing the weapon in his hand, Vincent softly hummed a happy tune -- that happy tune being <i>Kidnap the Sandy Claws</i> of all songs. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"I do apologize,"</span> he said, breaking his own fluid hum. Yet, the look in his eyes indicated no feelings of remorse at all as he went on without hitch. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"Just the other night I watched <i>the Nightmare before Christmas</i>. I put it on for Benjy,"</span> his dog and best boy there was. The way he spoke about the English Bulldog would have fooled any person into thinking he was a person instead of a small canine. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"A few of the songs got stuck in my head."</span> He chuckled, shrugging a single shoulder playfully. <br/>
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Vincent looked back at the man with an amused smile. It was sure to be a chilling one to him. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. You know someone once called me Jack Skellington. Of course, now that I've seen the movie I'm certain that he made the comparison to make fun of my appearance."</span> Even now, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the memory, but it was quickly followed by a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But now was not the time to recall and reminisce over the old argument. <br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"Anyway, enough about me, this is about you,"</span> Vincent smoothly climbed out of his cushy chair, knife still in hand. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"You owe me money, Mario. But not only do you refuse to pay me, but you also disrespected me on top of it."</span> Vincent sighed at the inconvenience. <br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"You raised the price,"</span> Mario grunted, sounding as tough as a bruised and bloodied man tied to a chair in front of his weapon-wielding captor could. Unfortunately, his defense wasn't a strong enough one for Vincent to release him.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"Well, duh,"</span> a third voice spoke up, belonging to Annabelle, Vincent's right hand. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"Did you think it was going to stay the same after the value of the land Vince so kindly rented to you went up? Come on, Maurice."</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"Regardless, you made a big show it, refused me my money, and hurt my poor messenger. And we can't have that, now can we?"</span> Vincent approaches him, using the dull side of his blade to lift the man's chin and meet his gaze. "You're not scared now, but you will be." Mario swallowed. Vince held back a smile, pinching his lips.  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"This blade is alloy steel, but the tip ... it's silver. I'm sure you know what that means vampires like myself and you."</span><br/>
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There it was, the fear he had been trying so hard to contain came tumbling out before Vince had even used his weapon. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"I-I I'm sorry."</span> His voice was shaking now. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"I'll pay you your money, all of it. I swear, I'm sorry, Mr. Abbott."</span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"Oh, you will. But first,"</span> Vincent gripped his jaw tightly in his hand.  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"Open wide."</span> He had to be made example of, Vincent did not like to take anyone's shit. Plus, he really wanted to test his new knife, it would have been a waste. <br/>
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The tip of his knife light pressed against its victim's tongue, a light sizzling sound could be heard. But before it cut any deeper and further, a new voice made itself present, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"Mr. Abbott, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the police are here."</span><br/>
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Vincent pulled his knife to relieve Mario and whipped around to face the waiter.  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"The <i>what</i>?"</span> Angry and flabbergasted. Who would dare call the police on <i>Dionysus</i>, on <i>him</i>? He quickly looked back to Mario and the man answered wordlessly with a quick shake of his head.  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"I'm coming down. Annie, I trust you can take it from here?"</span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"Of course, Vincent. Have fun." She chirped in her usually chipper and childish way.</span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"With the police?"</span><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"Or not."</span> That said, she pried the knife from his hands with some effort and handed him his topcoat before gently shoving him in the direction of the stairs. All the while, Vince racked his brain as to who might have been audacious enough to call the cops on him. Not even his worse enemies were foolish or daring enough to try it. <br/>
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The second his feet hit the first floor, he raised his face and offered a "welcoming" smile to the boys in blue.  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"Good afternoon, officers. How can I help you?"</span><br/>
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<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ffffff">[uglow=#BF5FFF;]<i class="fa-tint faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa-tint faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa-tint faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa-tint faa-pulse"></i>[/uglow]</span>​</div><br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"Again, sorry for the trouble, Mr. Abbott,"</span> George apologized. Was it George? It didn't matter if remembered their names after this small encounter, what mattered was that he knew their badge numbers and that they were simply new fresh-minded recruits on patrol. Tenacious, but easy to deal with. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a020f0">"It must have been a false report."</span> He was embarrassed, how cute.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"I'm sorry you had to waste your time here, but I'm glad it was easily resolved."</span> And that they had no warrant to search the place. Why did he even pay the pockets of so many on the force if they couldn't even keep their men's noses out of his business at times like these? Still, Vince smiled and played the part until they were out of the door. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"Have a good afternoon and be careful in this rain."</span><br/>
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A few more niceties passed between them and they were gone as quickly as they came. Much to Vincent's relief and peace of mind. An exhausted and agitated sigh passed through his lips as he closed his eyes took a moment to himself. <br/>
<br/>
There was no way of figuring out who made the call from the patrol officers. They only got orders, not names. One quick call to one of those paid pockets in the office would figure it for him, however. And that was just what he was going to do.<br/>
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Vincent reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out his cellphone. Just as he did, the square device vibrated in his hands and the alerting ping followed after.  One swipe of his finger and the familiar name appeared on his screen. A text from Isiah. Vincent paused, snorted, and smiled involuntarily. What did the blonde pianist have to say now?<br/>
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He took this moment to sit at the bar and rest his chin in the palm of his hands, using his fingers to hide his smile, as he opened up the text message. So, he was back in town? Vince was unsurprised. He had some semblance of an idea of what his tour included, and by some semblance, he knew the whole tour place from place. He simply didn't know what day, Isiah would be returning. <br/>
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Vincent hummed softly, gazing at the text and the selfie along with it. It was a pretty picture, nothing he would tell Isiah, the man's ego was large as it was and he wouldn't want him assuming he was attracted to him at all. But, as pretty as it was, it was taunting. The whole text was, which was usual for Isiah. When weren't they taunting and bickering with one another?  <br/>
<br/>
And it struck him. Vincent shut his eyes and exhaled through his nose. That blonde, blue-eyed, bastard. He called the cops on him. Of course, he did. And now he was jeering him.<br/>
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Immediately, Vincent rose to his feet and shoved his cellphone into his pocket. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"August!"</span> He called for the younger vampire. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"You're in charge of the club, I have some business to take care of and I don't think things will be as busy tonight be prepare everything as usual. Tell Annie to wrap things up with Mario, opening time is in a few hours."</span> He instructed the man zealously. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"If you need me, call me. But I should be back before then."</span><br/>
<br/>
He made his way to the exit and stopped the moment he opened the door and was reminded of the rain. The cool air sent shivers down his spine. He would need an umbrella.<br/>
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<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff"><i class="fa fa-tint faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-tint faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-tint faa-pulse"></i> <i class="fa fa-tint faa-pulse"></i></span>​</div><br/>
He didn't want to leave the warmth of his car. <br/>
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The rain had only picked up the money he slid into the back seat of his car and it hadn't calmed down the vehicle stopped in front of the far too familiar Fisher house. Outside the door was nothing but a cold and wet mess, the only thing that would keep him warm was the heat of his own anger. But he wasn't going to step out to get soaked to the bone without being sure he'd be let in first.<br/>
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He pressed his leather-covered fingers against his temple and thought. Or at least tried to. Was this worth it? Yes, of course, it was. Vincent often let strong sheer emotions cloud his judgment, it was a weakness as much as it was a strength. His patience was not abundant.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"Wait here for me,"</span> he commanded his driver with sharp words and made a move to leave only to be stopped by the pinging of his cellphone in his pocket. Who was it now? It better not have been Annie or August, he hadn't been gone long enough for a text now.<br/>
<br/>
Ripping off the glove from his hand he opened the text and met with a pleasant surprise. Anais. She was in town? Vincent's eyes lit up. What were the odds of that? He smiled, but it disappeared almost as fast as it appeared. He still has someone to address. <br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff"><b>I'm sure you already know the answer to that. Come by as soon as you can, I'm always happy to see you.</b></span> And he meant every word. There were few people Vince was close to, but perhaps, he was the closest to Anais. Maybe that was because in a roundabout way, they only really had one another near or far.<br/>
<br/>
The text had been sent and Vincent cleared his throat,  <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bf5fff">"I'll be going now,"</span> he announced and received a wordless head nod from his driver. There was nothing more that needed to be said. He opened his car door and pulled out his black umbrella, opening it to shield him from the rain. It did its job well.<br/>
<br/>
He could have waited patiently and rung the gate, but again, Vincent's patience was not abundant. And he knew the code anyway, he had ears and some people had tongues that ere loose under the influence. The more you know. So, a few pressed buttons, and the gates were open. It was sure to piss Isiah off. Good. <br/>
<br/>
This rain was doing no good for health, nor was the cold. It boosted his motivation to quicken his pace to the door. And when he was there, he pressed the doorbell. He wasn't completely devoid of manners.<br/>
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<div style="text-align: center">「  <a class="username" data-user-id="9086" data-username="Jenamos" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9086/">Jenamos</a> | <a class="username" data-user-id="9087" data-username="o0peachie0o" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9087/">o0peachie0o</a> | <a class="username" data-user-id="9106" data-username="King Khaos" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/9106/">King Khaos</a> 」​</div></div></div></div>