#convo: npc1
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campaign efforts
LOCATION: Vernon Manor��
CHARACTERS: Charlie Atwood, Catherine Vernon
MENTIONS: Josephine Langdon, Hugo Duvall, Augustus
SUMMARY: Catherine summons Charlie to the Manor after hearing (through Josie) about his potential support for Adriel as mayor.
Charlie was, admittedly, a little nervous. He had spoken to Catherine exactly once before, and even then it was quickly cut short. It was as simple as explaining he was in need of a tutor, so to speak, and with the click of a few fingers suddenly everything had been arranged. He was so nervous, in fact, that he had gone through the effort of getting dressed up. He felt so indirectly shamed by his outfit choices the last time they’d met that he put on a pressed white dress shirt and dark jeans. He still wore Vans—but they were black, which was his definition of fancy footwear.
Sitting in her lavish, traditionally styled living room, he still managed to feel directly out of place. He felt out of place sitting in her driver’s car, and he felt out of place being ushered in by a butler. Even the black chair he was sat in felt wrong. Catherine in and of herself was beyond his league, but paired with her lifestyle, she operated on a different planet entirely.He had had half a mind to say no to this meeting, to express his plain disinterest, but not only did that feel awfully rude; he probably wouldn’t have survived to see another day. That was the kind of power Catherine had, and he knew without anyone telling him that that was the kind of respect expected of him if he were to stay in West Hollow.
Drumming his fingers on his kneecap, he waited for Catherine to enter, already planning on standing when she did. Paranoia crept into his mind as it tended to when vampirism was involved—he was utterly convinced a side effect of his turning was the addition of paranoid thoughts—and he wondered if this had anything to do with his relationship to werewolves. Either his budding friendship with Finley or his near-death experience with the wolf in the woods were both equally unpleasant to be confronted with. Hearing footsteps echo throughout the house—and noting how suddenly ominous they sounded—Charlie stood, pressing his shirt down and free of imaginary wrinkles. He smiled brightly, “Catherine, nice to see you again.”
This election would not be lost like the last one. There was no in hell that she’d allow an angel to lord over them all, much less the human take control. Catherine barely took Evanora serious either — she had released a makeup collection to try and boost sales. While it wasn’t a horrible idea, but was a laughable one, in the sense that they were dealing with politics and not winning the heart of some 13 year olds over. However, to hear from Josie that one of her own was considering going for an angel over her was a damn disgrace, not to mention insulting. She thanked her lucky stars that she had kept the girl around for situations such as this one in which she could take the temperature of the vampire population and adjust accordingly. She also was grateful it was someone like Charles, who had clearly been so desperate to fit into their society that he was still training with Josie, and apparently enthusiastically. It meant he was open to direction and would be subservient to their cause more than anything else. Throwing him around or yelling into his face wouldn’t work, nor did she want to do such a thing. She knew that with Atwood, it would take only a little patience and some care.
And that’s exactly what Catherine did. Sending a car for him after informing him she wanted to speak, she was directed that he was here from her study. Having dressed in an imposing, but still professional, red dress, she made her way into one of the many living rooms he’d been ushered into. As the butler announced her presence when her heels clicked onto the wood flooring, she gave Charles a polite smile. “Charles, as is it to see you,” she said, her hand going out to shake. “Sit,” she motioned to the chair once more. As she smoothed the back of her dress down to sit, a maid whisked over with a tray of tea, setting it down on the coffee table between the two. Picking hers up, adding nothing to it, she began to speak, “How are you liking West Hollow? Josephine tells me you are doing well in your training sessions and that you look forward to them.”
"Right," he muttered to himself as he sat down. The thing about Catherine was that she somehow managed to make him feel even more anxious than he already was. Just when he thought he had hit his peak level of anxiety, she shows up in a bright red outfit —perfectly emulating power. She exuded confidence in a way that was familiar to Charlie, reminding him of his older years, yet altogether unfamiliar. Charlie had a reckless sort of confidence in the past, it would be more accurate to call it 'cockiness' than anything else. But not Catherine. She was entirely in the right to think of herself in the way that Charlie did not doubt she already did. "Please, call me Charlie," he said, unintentionally slipping into his old Victorian habits.
At the mention of Josie, his paranoid mind frantically hunted through their conversations in an attempt to figure out just what this interaction was for. It had to be for a reason; he highly doubted Catherine would waste her time just to chat. Especially with someone like Charlie, who was well aware and perfectly comfortable with the fact that he was a nobody. The last thing he had wanted to do when arriving in West Hollow was create waves, which is why he sought out to meet with Catherine in the first place. He brightened at the praise, momentarily forgetting himself, "Really?" He asked, showing genuine surprise that Josie had complimented him to Catherine. "West Hollow is a good place to rest, for sure. It's a great community," he replied, choosing his words carefully. Internally, his mind was repeating on one question: what is this about?
Charlie reminded Catherine of some vampires she had turned in the past, those who had asked for it and then realized how much different the lifestyle would be than pouring a little blood in their morning shake. And, on top of it, he probably thought she was here to scold him. Who would blame him, anyway? Vernon Manor was a house of power, literally. The place was imposing and downright scary, not to mention the woman who lived in it had been through very rumor under the sun in regards to what she was and what happened in it.
But, he was not quite right, not yet at least — he was much easier to manipulate when he thought he was a friend rather than a foe, and that was exactly what Catherine intended. Sipping on the mint tea and nodding along when Charlie spoke, she set the glass and cup back down on the tray after he was done. “You may have some,” she waved her hand towards the other cup, waiting patiently for him, before clasping her hands back in her lap. “Josephine is very impressed with your dedication and progress. She has been doing this for a long time, and she is the best at it. I’m glad you two are getting along.” Her red lips pressed into a delighted smile, but it was mostly a farce. Taking a pause to look him over, as if contemplating whether or not she should say it, she then began to speak again, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here, and it is to talk about exactly that: West Hollow. Charles, would you agree that Josephine, who is a vampire like ourselves, is a good ally to have in a town so specially diverse such as this one?”
Charlie had a terrible habit of accent mimicking. The longer he spoke to Catherine, the more his own London accent returned, accentuating his words and causing him to slip back into an almost (but not quite) Victorian style of speech. “Truth be told, West Hollow is a brilliant city, but I don’t expect I’ll be here long,” he said, as if to placate her, still believing she had some sort of problem with him. Then—panic: would she be offended at that? After all, what was wrong with her city (since it was essentially hers, as far as Charlie was concerned) that he wouldn’t want to stay? “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, though,” he added, as an afterthought.
In the same instant that he had decided yes, he would like some tea, he practically spat it out. He hardly expected Catherine to ask for his opinion on whether or not he enjoyed the tea, let alone on such matters. “Uh, yes?” He questioned, before clearing his throat and continuing, “Yeah, I think she is. She’s a very capable person, and she’s incredibly loyal to people like us,” he said, meaning ‘vampires’, of course. Still, that was the second person to tell him of Josie’s praise, and he had half a mind to tease her about it the next time they saw each other.
His accent reminded her sickly of home, making her wish America had been more similar to London, but also being grateful she wasn’t still starving on their streets or some pitied “widower.” Hearing he wouldn’t stay long, though, at least as bluntly has he had decided he was going to be putting it, nearly made Catherine’s face crack from the professional and polite smile that it was carrying. “Is that so?” she asked with a raise of her eyebrow, letting him finish the phrasing to see if he would recover. When he thanked her for her work, it placated her slightly from the disrespect he had just doled out, and she nodded, “Of course. You should reconsider though.” saying no more on the subject. She’d use it later. like always, to make her point, but for now it could be left as is.
When he answered her question with a question, her head tilted, opening her mouth to speak for one second before he decided to explain further. God, he was worse than she thought — self conscious, nervous, weak, and unsure of himself. It worked to her advantage, but was tedious to get through. But, she got the answer she wanted in the end, lips curling up into a satisfied smile that would read to him like appreciation. They were instead the smile of a spider who had caught her fly right in the middle of the web. “Exactly — loyal. Just what I was thinking.” she gestured out to praise his “correctness” of the answer. Moving so her body was facing him more on, her torso leaned in ever so slightly as she began on once again, “In such a town like this, loyalty matters, I’d say, and from your comments I think you’d agree. While you mention you won’t stay long, I think it’s important that while you do, you have people who will understand your concerns personally. It wouldn’t have made much sense for me to set you up with an angel trainer, now would it have?” she chuckled out, wondering if he’d catch on what this was about from that. Taking her tea, she began to sip again, giving him time to respond.
There was something about the way she had reacted to what he’d said that almost made him feel as if he had said the wrong thing entirely. Which would be an absolute trip to discover, given that he had said it in the first place in the hopes of easing whatever concerns she might have about him. Perhaps it was the way she raised her eyebrow, or something slight in her tone. Perhaps it was nothing but his paranoia at work. Regardless, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t take it back now, whether it was stupid to say or not. “I’ve not stayed longer than half a decade in one place since I’ve been turned. It’s habit now, I suppose, to plan to leave,” he said, hoping his explanation would help matters. Charlie was quickly figuring out (though evidently not fast enough) that when it came to Catherine, honesty was not the best policy. Loyalty, however, was. “West Hollow is a difficult town for that, though. It has a certain charm, I expect a century will go by before I remember I wanted to leave,” he added, laughing.
Her head tilt only served to make him all the more nervous, which he expected wasn’t winning him any favours with the Queen of all Vampires. She was similar to Josie in that respect, though he found Josie to be a bit more...sensitive (then again, maybe he just knew Josie better and was making an unfair judgment), or at least understanding. In any case, both Josie and Catherine valued confidence. That much was clear. And while Charlie was typically lion-hearted, he also was intimately familiar with his place in the pecking order. He breathed out an almost audible sigh of relief when she seemed pleased with his answer. Loyalty he hammered into his head. “It’s a very valuable trait,” he replied, agreeing. “Especially with what’s going on, especially now,”
Just as he was starting to find his footing, though, Catherine pulled the rug right from underneath him. Angel. Now, anyone else—that comment might have been missed. But Charlie had learned a sort of paranoia over the years, one that kept him safe, one which without it nearly almost got him killed back when he himself was a killer. It flashed through his mind like some sort of horror movie. The passing comment he had made about Adriel to Josie, not even thinking twice—like an absolute fool—the way she had brushed his words aside with calculated nonchalance. It was all painfully obvious now. This wasn’t about him, or his friendships, this was about—like it always would be and always was—Catherine Vernon. Somehow, this knowledge, though noticeably paling him at first, granted him his confidence. At least now he understood. “Yes...an angel training a vampire would be obscene. We protect our own, isn’t that how the saying goes?”
Catherine listened to his story, about how he was migrant for the most part. For the most part, she didn’t care. His personal story was not interesting or really beneficial to her on any scale, but if it made him feel more comfortable to drone on about and try to win her over, he could do so. The accent that he was slowly slipping into showed that at least as it faded from the sort of Posh American to one like her own — something she had refused to give up for the sake of blending in. Catherine Vernon did not blend in, never planning to as she had forged this town from the cursed ground it lied upon. Once he had had said his last piece about it she nodded, putting the teacup back down onto the small plate, “I hope so.” speaking flatly and hoping he would get the hint.
Watching the realization come over his face, Catherine nearly bathed in the small body language ticks that showed her that he was feeling especially vulnerable to her words. He recovered nicely, at least, she thought internally. See, it was all a game, and now that Charles knew that he was playing, perhaps he would understand what it took to win with a woman like her. Her head moved up slightly to take in his words, nodding with a pleased smile. “That is right.” Standing from her chair, she then began to walk over to him as she continued to speak, her hands folding together in front of her and fingertips tapping against each other. “Charles, you have demonstrated to me excellent skill in understanding what I value and what is important in this town during our conversation thus far, and so I trust you enough to talk to you with the respect I hope you would grant me in return.” she started, “Especially now, as you mentioned, we are in dire times. The wolves are at our throats and a human is the Mayor right now, running against myself, the leader of the angels, and the Supreme of the witches. If you are to stay here, we must make things clear in how they will work.”
It was then that Catherine decided to sit down in a chair next to his own, leaning to the side to face him, but still tight and upright in posture. “I care for all my vampires in this town, as I made this town as a refuge for all of us. This is a place where you can feel free to truly express your true self, but in order to do that, I need to be in charge to make sure that’s a success. Do you see where I’m going with this, Charles?”
Charlie certainly got the hint. Putting his own cup down, not realizing he had been holding it the entire time without taking a sip—ever since that first attempt nearly had him choking on his own spit, he refrained from trying again—and matched Catherine’s eyes. He would have to pull from his youthful years as a vampire if he were to survive this. Though, hopefully without the sheer disregard for his own safety. Essentially, he needed that dark confidence without any of the cockiness. He steeled himself, his face stoic and as empty as the apartment he lived in. If he were to do this, he would need to separate himself from who he was now entirely. If this was what Catherine was looking for, then so be it. He was nothing if not a social chameleon. And besides, he was learning a lot from her. For one, Josie couldn’t be trusted, and subsequently neither could Hugo. He wasn’t sure how fair that was—It wasn’t as if Josie betrayed him, she was just loyal and why involve Hugo at all?—but it wouldn’t hurt.
Normally, Charlie would flower at her praise. He was prideful, though he did his best to work against it, and words of affirmation meant a great deal to him (more than he would care to admit). But seeing as how he had recently clued in to her little game, he brushed any shine he might have showed aside, filing her words away as shallow and devoid of real meaning. “I’m nothing if not an excellent learner, Catherine,” he said, choosing to speak in layers like she was. “I may have my faults, but I most certainly respect you,” he said honestly, though he doubted it would matter much to her.
When Catherine made moves to sit beside him, it took all his effort not to jump out of his skin. She smelled nice, at least, almost soft. In fact, he was awfully impressed with how soft she sounded while likewise managing to look so hard. “It’s painfully evident how much you care, West Hollow and it’s children could certainly use a leader like you,”
Catherine was quick to note how his expression and tone changed from the more curious and eagerness it had held before, wondering how her words had affected him internally. Catherine had, from time to time, procured mind reading potions from the witches for such events, but found their cost excessive. With her newfound feud of the witch’s Supreme as well, such potions couldn’t be trusted to be delivered to her with purity either, and so she found herself at an disadvantage when it came to pinpointing if what Charlie said was 100% genuine. However, being genuine and being loyal were two very different qualities, and Catherine could be satisfied if he had the more important one.
Realizing a few seconds in that he was beginning to mimic her in order to try and communicate back, it made her smirk, impressed with the accuracy and challenge he had decided on. Her words were truthful, at least as truthful as they’d get with someone like Charles, and so she found it downright amusing he was choosing the path he was. Nonetheless, she found it at least a little thrilling, and would continue on. Nodding once at his agreement he respected her, “I don’t doubt you do. You did, after all, come and agree to meet with me in my home and follow through with the training I set up. You’ve been nothing but gracious.” she said, meaning it honestly. Like any Catherine compliment though, it had to be double edged, “Which is why it troubles me to hear any of my vampires misunderstand what goes on in this town.”
As he once more caught on, Catherine gave a wide, Cheshire like smile. “It’s children, yes,” she started, her head tilting for a moment to look over Charlie before she opened her mouth once more, “That is also how I see them, including yourself. Children need to be educated and guided, and while you may think the angel can do that as Mayor, they will only set out to destroy whatever they think they can’t cure out of you. This life we share, the life of blood and eternal youth, it is a great gift and a curse all at once. Only I truly understand what that entails and how to protect all of us, along with make sure those who don’t share our disposition are comfortable enough as well — but it seems like you understand well enough by now that when you get to the voting booth, you’ll make the right decision, yes?”
Charlie had met many like her in his travels—that is to say leaders—and yet had found he had not managed to meet someone quite like her all in the same hand. Catherine was unique in her similarities, that much could be said for certain. He had somehow managed to go thus far without angering the head of vampires in town, and he internally chastised himself for getting into this position in the first place. He had arrogantly assumed he’d earned her favour—or, in the very least and perhaps more likely: her disinterest—when he first came to her. He should have known better than to mention anything like he did to Josie, but he’d thought his comment was innocent enough.
As if reading his mind, Catherine seemed to sate his beliefs. He had, then, been successful in his attempt to make her aware of his unthreatening presence. “To be fair, I am still unbelievably new. I’m bound to have one—single—misstep. I can assure you, you’ve made things abundantly clear for me.” He replied, in the hopes that it would make his newfound stance clear. Catherine would become his Lord and Saviour if she needed to. If that’s what it took to stay in town, to stay close to Arabella and, above all, stay alive...then so be it.Her grin chilled him. So much had it reminded him of his own that he had half a mind to wonder if Catherine knew more about him than she let on. It wouldn’t surprise him, though Augustus was the only one aware of the truth of his past and Charlie hadn’t pegged him as anyone’s pet. Then again, he had made the mistake of making the same assumption with Josie, and look where that had got him? In the very least, her words made some sense to him. If her attempts were to manipulate him, she had succeeded. In a perfect world, he would be human, and he would vote for Adriel. But the life he led now was cursed, and his only feasible choice was Catherine. “You can trust that I will.”
Catherine listened on, and for a moment, it dawned on her that Charlie considered himself in trouble — and moreover, by her prized protege. Only a single eyebrow piqued in his direction as he talked about being new in town, more the cogs in her head turning in how to spin his words. That was what any good business woman did after all, was spin a situation in favor of their product. The product in this case was Charlie’s vote for her, a valuable resource all it’s own. Even though she was painfully and clearly manipulating him, she still wanted him to be comfortable. “Oh, you needn’t worry that I am looking down on you for what you said. In fact, I appreciate highly that we were able to have this sort of chat together. It’s hard to make truthful statements when you lack the knowledge of who Adriel or I really am.” Smiling once more, she shrugged casually, “Mistakes are learning opportunities.”
At his assurance he would do as asked, she nodded once, “Excellent, Charles. You have served us all well in your choice.” she stood then. “I think our time here is over, unless you have more you want to discuss with me. Otherwise, Maxwell will show you out.” Gesturing to the ghostly butler in the corner who was opening the door, she let him start walking before speaking again. “Oh, and Charles? Josephine was simply doing what was best for all of us. I’d hate to hear any bad reports about your sessions because of this, since I know you both enjoy them so much.” Catherine let the threat hang in the air, making sure he was left with the impression of her power and prowess as she stared back to him, steady and confident.
Her words only somewhat calmed him. It was appreciated that she took the effort to make him feel comfortable, but he knew enough by now to know that nothing about Catherine was particularly genuine. He wouldn’t allow her words to ease him, nor would he ever make such a mistake again. Mistakes are learning opportunities, indeed. Charlie had certainly learned his lesson. As far as he was concerned, now, the walls had ears, eyes, mouths…the whole lot. Besides, he wasn’t so naive to think that Catherine perceived him to be any sort of threat as it was. He was just a little ant who had strayed from the assembly line. “Well, exactly. I was clearly misinformed,” he said, managing to pull out his signature Charlie smile. It wouldn’t be a conversation with Catherine if she hadn’t let one final threat slide in, Charlie realized. It was almost…insulting. As if Charlie would be so stupid as to start issues with Josie and Catherine, the latter of which he had already done accidentally. He had clearly regretted it, hadn’t he? “Believe me, Catherine, you won’t hear anything like that at all,” he said sincerely.
While he had deduced that Josie was no longer to be considered trustworthy, that wouldn’t mean that he’d go along and confront her. He did have some regard for his own life, after all. “Thank you, Catherine. I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” he said, though he hoped they wouldn’t. With that, he followed behind Maxwell and let himself be taken out of the house. Stepping out, he took in a long, shaky exhale: the breathing of a man who had been turned away from the gallows.
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