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Snippet #2409928

located in Tokyo, Japan, a part of World of the Dark, one of the many universes on RPG.

Tokyo, Japan

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Opal Goldsworthy Character Portrait: Vincent Randall Character Portrait: Drake Goldsworthy Character Portrait: Zates Harwal
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She heard him coming before he even entered the room. It was Drake, of course, and in all honesty, no matter how uncomfortable he made her at times, he was still her brother. It was through an amazing force of will that she still managed not to jump when he entered the dining room, even though she had heard his footsteps. He couldn't help how frightening of an aura came off of him; it was a natural thing. And after years of his ... Problems ... He had managed to harden himself to being hurt emotionally, and instead came off as sarcastic and an asshole.

"Sis, what's your pet doing two rooms down with weapons? While he's got everything under wraps, I must ask why an animal is walking around...collarless, without a leash."

Opal moved her eggs around on her plate for a moment, mentally steeling herself before she answered. In all honesty, she was probably the only family member that he really looked, well, 'up to', in a sense. And if he ever discovered that she thought that ... Well, she didn't really want to know how he would react.

Finally, she looked up from her breakfast, stifling a sigh.

"I really wish that you would stop talking about them like that. Werewolves aren't mangy mutts that need to be detained and on leashes; humans aren't merely blood bags to be used on a whim; and vampires aren't an almighty race that should be worshiped as Gods," she said softly, her voice calm, almost like a kindergarten teacher that was telling a child right from wrong. "You need to start treating them for who they are - the people that are willingly putting their lives at risk to ensure our own safety. If it weren't for them, we would be dead by now. So stop it, Drake, before I lose my patience with you ..."

"So what made the lil' fella get so twitchy because I doubt that he's gotten authorization so soon. Oh and I'd like this thing off, it interferes with my mornings and for some reason I can't just take it off myself."

She set her fork down, her rare appetite gone at this point.

"The visiting dignitary that came to see our sister attacked me in my room. He wasn't there to defend me, and therefore blames himself, even though I wasn't hurt. We ended up fighting, and now he's mad at me," she said quietly, her eyes slightly downcast. "I don't blame him though. I said ... Some things, and I suppose that I hurt his feelings," she mumbled, more talking to herself now than to him.

Shaking her head, she looked up at Drake. "You know that that isn't allowed, Drake. I'm sorry. I wish that I could ... But I can't. It's too dangerous," she said gently. She rose and moved over beside him, dropping her fingers just below the eye that wasn't covered. "I love you, but it isn't allowed. You could hurt someone, and would regret it immensely. It's for your own good, Dray," she told him. He may have been older, taller, heavier, and basically just bigger then her in every sense, but since their mother's untimely death, Opal had basically taken over the roll of the mother for her siblings. It went without saying that she had to grow up pretty quickly in order to do so.

"I should really straighten things out with Vincent. Enjoy your breakfast, Drake," she smiled. With a slight pat to his head, she turned and left the large dining room, her footsteps light and quiet on the tiled floor.

When she reached the room that Drake had mentioned Vincent was in, she leaned in slowly, lightly rapping on the door frame.

"Vincent?" she said quietly, moving so that she stood entirely in the doorway. Her hand were clasped in front of her, her skin slightly pale, and her eyes were on his. She had never been the type to look everywhere at once when speaking to someone, no matter how serious or lax the situation was. Instead, she held their gazes steadily and never once would look away, throughout the entirety of the conversation.

"I ... I wanted to apologize for my ... Explosion, earlier. I didn't mean, well, most of what I said. I was angry ... I was just recovering from being scared half to death ... And you just ... You irk me," she said in a soft mumbled, finally looking at the floor. She was quiet for several heartbeats, her own heart thundering in her chest - so loudly, she doubted that he couldn't hear it.

"I just ... You just ... You're so thick-headed, and stubborn, and just ... Stupid sometimes. It ... It ..." Her cheeks were slowly turning red, her anger slowly boiling up again. "It pisses me off, Vincent," she said lowly, crossing her arms. "I'm going to be frank with you. Why are you such a stupid asshole most of the time? Do you even care about how I feel?" she asked, lifting her eyes to his again. "Or are you just doing your job?" she demanded, taking another step into the room - and that much closer to the man that stood in it with her. "Because I am so sick of being on the receiving end of all these mixed signals. Ever since we were little ..." She trailed, memories obviously rushing through her mind. "... And it hurts. It hurts me, Vincent. In all honesty, I don't know how much more I can take of you disliking me as much as you do. So stop ... Stop being so hostile and plain with me. I don't deserve to be treated in this way."

She felt good. Extremely good about herself. With that weight off of her shoulders, it was one less thing causing her unnecessary stress.




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It was quiet in the study. Her charge was still sleeping, and that therefore gave Zates some time to herself, during which she had taken advantage and chosen to read, in order to learn more about the history of the family.

Out of all of the guards, she was the newest, having only just recently been assigned to Drake - three weeks prior to today, in fact. His old guard, a man of about fifty, had found that he was unable to protect the prince as he had before. Having been training Zates to take over anyway, he decided to retire, and with the full support of the entire guard unit, he had gone ahead and done so. He and his wife were now busy traveling the entire Southern hemisphere. She, however, had been on her toes since being assigned the mule-headed boy that was Drake Goldsworthy. He was stubborn, rude, crude, obnoxious, and extremely hard to keep up with. Not to mention how he treated her co-workers, as if they were mutts that were beyond expendable.

She didn't really know what he thought about her and her witch state. Actually, her own species was a bit odd. Her mother, a witch, had mated with a male vampire, and therefore had produced a hybrid offspring - her. She was not deterred by the sun, but did not have uncanny super speed and strength. She did, however, have enhanced regenerative abilities, and would never age. Her normal witch powers were heightened along with both of those, and it wasn't tiring for her to perform spells, incantations, or the like. She was extremely agile, and despite the fact that she wouldn't burn in the sun, the bright rays did hurt her eyes. She was forced to wear sunglasses during the day, but they didn't affect her duties as a guard of one of the princes.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she snapped her book closed as her sense prickled. The prince was awake. Having cast a spell upon Drake, she had created a bond between the two of them that could only be severed by herself or a more powerful witch - which was extremely unlikely. The bond would tell her everything she needed to know about the prince. When he was hurt, when he was afraid, when he was in danger; if he was sick, hungry, or upset. It was an invasion of privacy, but she hadn't told him about it. She was, in all honesty, afraid to.

The prince scared her at times.

But it was her duty to stay at his side, and that she would do. Besides, she couldn't let Demetri down.

It didn't take the green-haired hybrid long to reach the dining hall, in which the young prince resided. A quick look down the hall told her that the Princess Opal had just recently been in the room and was now retreating from it. She turned back and made her way over to where thee prince sat, stopping just to the left and behind him.

"Good morning, Prince," she said, her normally soft voice a bit lilting, her Greek accent betraying her roots. "How did you sleep?"