` showdown

[brogan vassar]

here comes the showdown

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Brogan sighed. His cover job was already grating on his nerves. It just wasn't his thing. Yes, owning the place made a sense of contentment settle within him... But every other aspect of the job? He already felt sick thinking about it. The day had been long, even though it had been his first. He couldn't picture himself in the profession for much longer. There had to be some change. He figured, since he owned the place that it was possible for him to not even show up. As long as he added money to the corporation from his other job all would be well.

Countless people had bothered him, he couldn't recall a moment where his office wasn't full of idiots asking him for help. As if he should know what to do. Another sigh escaped his lips as he settled down into a booth, ordering some form of hard liquor. He wanted to drink. Yes, drinking certainly would make the day better. Much better. He found it amusing that a job within the Daily Prophet stressed him out more than his profession involving organized crime. Brogan supposed that he enjoyed the rush. That was exactly what his current job was lacking; excitement. It was just a boring pattern of the same thing being asked several times - in different ways, of course.

At least it was over for now. Brogan settled back into the booth, momentarily closing his eyes as he let the stress evaporate from his tense body. He could handle anything, this petty job would not defeat him. And at least he owned it. He could tell anyone exactly what to do - minions? - yes, they could be his minions. With a satisfied smirk he decided that tomorrow would be different. He'd have someone to do his work, fetch his coffee, and an idiot to answer all of the other idiot's questions. Perfect. He was genuinely smiling now, so pleased with his plot to overthrow the pathetic company. It would be thrilling to use everyone to his advantage.

Someone might try to question his authority or motives, but he would have that taken care of. He'd be like a villain in a movie, perhaps... get a button that links to a trap door, and anyone that bothered him could just... fall through that hole. He could have laughed at this, if he wasn't alone. Brogan pictured himself, turned in a chair, with his red button close at hand. The mental image satisfied him greatly. He gulped some of his drink down, and with the most badass smile he knew what he would do.

If he could manage his other business than surely this one would be no trouble at all. Ah, manipulation was gorgeous.

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[ invite only, tristise rederick ]
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[Tristise Rederick]

She was done.

Tristise sighed and ran her fingers through her long blond hair as she finished packing her trunk, shut the lid, and locked it. She stood from her kneeling position in front of it and looking to the empty shelves and nightstand. It was hard to believe that school was over. Not just for the summer, no. For Tristise school was finished completely unless she went on to further education for a career.

She just couldn't believe she had graduated. Of course, it wasn't really surprising as her grades were nearly impeccable, but it was just hard to think seven years was over so quickly. She would have to go home and live with the family again and deal with her parents constantly. Unless she got a job far away... maybe she'd consider that, but she'd need to look around and figure out how she'd afford to move and such.

Tris didn't have to leave until the following day so she left her trunk at the foot of her bed and pulled on a jacket on her way out the door. She might as well visit Hogsmeade one more time and hit up the Three Broomsticks for a final hoorah. Of course she could probably come back whenever she felt like it, but this would be the last time where she was still technically a student at Hogwarts.

It felt... strange to think of it. She decided she wouldn't.

The warm summer air was almost too warm for Tris. She much preferred the cold of winter and a brisk jog through snowy woods. She knew it would grow cooler as the night moved on though, hence the light jacket she'd grabbed. Whether she liked the cold or not that didn't mean she would walk around in her shorts and tank tops in the middle of winter or something. She still dressed accordingly - for the most part.

Tristise pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks and was bombarded with the noise of people chatting and clanking glasses. Her eyes scanned the room out of habit, but finding nothing of interest she moved toward the bar and ordered herself a strawberry butterbeer. A few more months and she would be able to purchase something a little... stronger. For now she'd have to settle. At least the drink was good even if it lacked the alcohol to numb her thoughts.

She weaved her way through the crowd and slid into a booth, slinking to the wall at the other end and lazing against it. It was the start of something new today, tomorrow, and every day to come. Tristise wasn't looking forward to it. She wasn't big on change or the possibility of working with her family both of which were inevitable now. Pushing thoughts of that aside, she tried to act normal and think normal. Maybe if she just ignored it, change would go away; so like she did with the other people in the room she ignored them and sipped at her drink as she stared at the oh-so-interesting ceiling trying not to think - to no avail.

((ooc: Sorry that was crappy. I just got home yesterday and I'm still tired from not sleeping the day before. @.@))

[brogan vassar]

here comes the showdown

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Brogan soon realized that his source of relaxation was beginning to bore him. He stared down at his drink with lifeless eyes, swirling it in the cup as if it would create a distraction from his lack of excitement. The strategy didn't work, and once he'd swirled the drink many times he became bored of that as well. He drank from the glass, slamming it down on the table in annoyance.

He looked around the room, hoping to find something that caught his attention. He didn't. A small glare was held in his bright blue eyes, as if demanding that someone or something entertain him. Giving up in his search around the room he leaned back in his booth, closing his eyes. Why did he even bother coming here? He was hoping for something more. Same with his job. He probably would have been better off being a reporter, at least he'd be in on the action. Not that he always liked a thrill; in fact the idea of constantly being consumed with adrenaline was only starting to grow on him.

When he was a kid he was always quite safe, one of those kids who never dared to do much. This quickly changed when he was introduced to the tragedy of his family, he had to create a hard shell, and quickly. He built up walls, and he obtained a strong image. He was now known as quite the badass. He was now very committed to his industry; he became it. Since he didn't have a choice in the matter, he made sure to take over the family business and be the best 'owner' that there ever was.

He became lost in thought, and only pulled himself out of the haze when his blue eyes caught sight of something. Something blonde. Something young. And best of all, something hot.

And no this wasn't just something - it was someone - and this someone was a woman. Brogan liked women. Especially women that looked like that.

With a new-found interest he sat up in his seat, watching casually as she fell into her own booth. Despite his thoughts of... happiness at seeing the woman, his eyes were wide and innocent. He watched as she looked to the ceiling, as if she were exasperated, or maybe just something bugging her. Before Brogan would never go up to a girl, but with the reputation he had now, and his confidence he slowly strung together - he could do it. He would do it. She wasn't that far from him, the beautiful blonde. And so he lifted himself from his booth, walking with as much swagger as he could manage.

Dragging his drink along with him he approached her, his hip leaning against her table as he came into her view. "Hello..." he said with only a little bit of hesitation in his voice. No, he had to be more bold than that. So without invitation he sat in front of her. "I noticed..." he started, taking a sharp inhale, "That you look a little... down?" He carefully played with his words, eyeing the lady in front of him.

"My name is Brogan," he added with a small, friendly smile. His word choices and actions weren't exactly charming - but he never claimed to be a player. He waited with round blue eyes, wide with interest.

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[Tristise Rederick]

Why was it that parents always told their kids 'just ignore them and they'll go away' when ignoring things never did a damn thing? Tristise could ignore her thoughts about her future outside of school, but they still popped in and out and ignoring them didn't change the fact that she was done with school and had to grow up now. Ignoring people didn't do anything either. They were still there unfortunately. Like the guy who kept staring at her. She refused to look at him, but she could feel his eyes on her. He even dared to come over.

Tristise didn't know who this boy was, but he clearly wasn't a local or he lacked intelligence. Who else would dare approach the blond femme with ice in her eyes? He spoke, but Tris gave no response. He slid into the booth and sat across from her, but Tris didn't even glance at him. "My name is Brogan." Merlin's beard he was even introducing himself! She grit her teeth and turned in her seat, swinging her feet off the bench and onto the floor.

She wanted to spit a venomous 'that's nice' at him, but he hadn't really done anything consciously wrong. Tris had promised to work on her temper so when she knew that no one meant harm she was supposed to push aside her fangs and attempt to be pleasant. Easier said than done. "I'm Tristise." Nothing more, nothing less. She didn't even address the matter of her feeling 'down'. Finally she glanced at him, but only briefly, before turning back to her drink and raising it to her lips which were set in a thin, firm line of displeasure.

She should have stayed in the castle, but she felt suffocated there too. It was like she couldn't escape annoyance and discomfort anywhere she went. She really hated people and places and... everything. When had she started hated everything? She hated her family and what they did, she remembered when that started. She distrusted other people, she knew the start of that too. She hated home, that went with her family issues... but when had literally everything begun to aggravate her? Not just people, but places and things. Even the way her jacket sleeves were riding up her arms was annoying her.

Tristise gripped the hair at the crown on her head in one fist and growled low into her mug. She needed to release tension... maybe she could start a fight with someone. Maybe this ignorant man who had decided to strike up a conversation would... no! She needed to behave. Behave. Behave...

((Er... that was really shitty, sorry. I was having trouble grasping 'Tristise'. I suppose that's what I get for having her rp with the same two people all the time >.<;)

[brogan vassar]

here comes the showdown

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Well, they do say you can't judge a book by it's cover.

She seemed much sweeter from afar; how could he not sense that icy exterior, that fiery temper from where he sat? He breathed in deeply, staring at her after her short response to his efforts. After his horrible day this is exactly what he needed... This was why he didn't go up to girls. Brogan liked it better when people came to him. He massaged his temples, maybe she was just defensive. Maybe he could chip away at her walls until he saw something human, something remotely friendly.

"Well, Tristise..." he said, his voice deep as he stared at her. He had observed her actions. She looked stressed, like perhaps she needed a punching bag? He wasn't exactly sure. He could get up and leave - but no, that would not satisfy his image. She would like him. He'd make sure of it. She'd be crawling, kissing his feet by the time he was done with her. With a half-hidden sneer he looked her dead in the eyes, stopping his prior sentence as he heard her growl into her mug. Did she just growl into her mug? Yes, surely he'd heard that. "Um.... are you... okay?" For some reason he felt like any words he spoke would set her off.

First impressions sure said a lot. He didn't want to get this vibe from the blonde. He wanted her to embrace him, have a kindness about her. He tilted his head to the side. Tristise wasn't the only one with a temper, Brogan had his own fair share of pent up anger. He could easily just yell at her for being rude, he felt the cruel words on the edge of his tongue. Brogan wasn't sure why he felt this way, he probably just didn't appreciate being ignored. In fact, he hated it. He was not someone to be ignored, or barely talked to!

Biting his lip to hold back the sudden urge to lash out, he calmly awaited whatever response she had. Maybe he'd like it if she threw a punch at him. Hell, he wouldn't mind dragging her out of the shop by her hair. The day had been long, and his prior relaxation had turned into annoyance, aggravation.

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[Tristise Rederick]

"Am I okay?" Tristise barked out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, I'm just fabulous. I love when random strangers come up and try to work their supposedly charming ways on me." Her attitude had little to do with him, but the words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. So much for behaving.

Well, it wasn't like she was going to tell some random stranger she didn't want to go home and see her family anyway. She didn't know who he was and he didn't know her family situation and it just wasn't something she'd tell anyone except perhaps Andrew. Though recently she hadn't even been telling him much. She hadn't wanted to see or speak with anyone - it wasn't just this Brogan guy she was nasty to. Not that he knew that or cared.

Her jacket sleeves finally got the best of her temper and she all but tore the jacket off of her and threw it at the bench with a huff. "I should have just stayed in my room where morons would let me be. I suppose I asked for this in a way, didn't I?" She mused, motioning to Brogan, but not really addressing him as she spoke.

If she had been taking the time to notice she might have seen that he was getting annoyed with her behavior. She probably still wouldn't care, but at least she'd have picked up on it. Or maybe she'd have noted that he wasn't such a creep. At least he wasn't old or hideously unattractive like most of the guys who hit on her. She got her fair share of handsome boys trying to get her attention, but she also got a lot of ugly old men too. Again though, Tristise wasn't in any mood to care what he looked like or how annoyed he was. She just wanted to ignore him and have him go away.

She finished her drink and slammed it down on the table, waving over the waitress who hurried with another full mug to the table. She looked at Brogan and said without pleasantness, all business, "If I buy you a drink will you leave me alone?" She turned to the waitress without even waiting for an answer and ordered, "Get him another of whatever he's drinking." Once she'd left Tristise mumbled, "It's typically the other way around, I know, but I don't care to have drinks bought for me and I'm hoping if I'm so nice as to give you something for your misguided attempts at flirting with me you'll feel less offended and leave without giving me further trouble."

At least she was honest...?

[brogan vassar]

here comes the showdown

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Brogan glared at what she said, an instant reaction. And as he felt the aggravation boil up inside him he sat up straighter, his eyes were narrowed. Tristise was obviously feisty, and not in the good way. "Oh well I'm sorry," he said, exasperated, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Do you have a boyfriend? Is that it? You know what, I bet that isn't it. You wouldn't have a boyfriend." The words slipped like venom from his lips, and he was almost shocked at the temper she brought out in him. He decided to leave it at that, letting her assume his thoughts instead of him getting his head ripped off.

Brogan's narrowed eyes soon widened as he watched her rip off her jacket. He couldn't recall a time where he'd seen someone so annoyed, so pissed off at life in general. His blue eyes just stayed wide, barely blinking as she threw the jacket onto the bench. She acted as if she hated everything, as if everything was a bother. "Moron? Really?" the eyes had narrowed again, she flared something within him, it burned hotter than the alcohol that slid down his throat. His eyes rolled before he spoke "Well, I should have just stayed in my booth where I was free from the annoyance of a such abitch." The words were low, threatening. He would normally not speak to a girl like that, it was partially due to the way she treated him, but mostly due to the bad day he'd experienced.

He was not in the mood today.
Not at all.

"I don't want you to buy me a drink," he all but growled, watching as she asked a waitress without his consent. "Flirting? Oh no, that may have been my intention when I saw you, because yes... You are beautiful, but beauty is only skin deep, clearly," he was ranting at her, and she mostly was a release from his horrible day. Her behavior was the icing on the cake, and he decided to use her as a way to vent his anger, much like she was doing to him.

He then stopped, taking a deep breath, looking at her as if he suddenly just noticed that he was being nasty to a complete stranger. Yes, maybe she wasn't the nicest to him, but maybe she had been really hurt by guys in the past, or something like that. As the waitress brought him his drink he thanked both her and Tristise. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly, and truthfully. "I had a really bad day, I shouldn't be taking it out on you... I don't know what I was thinking..." Regret was clear in his voice, and he looked to Tristise with a sorrowful expression. He couldn't believe he just acted like that toward a lady he didn't even know.

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[Tristise Rederick]

"Oh well I'm sorry." Clearly he was anything but. "Do you have a boyfriend? Is that it? You know what, I bet that isn't it. You wouldn't have a boyfriend."

Tristise snarled and glared at the guy. Who the fuck was he to claim she wouldn't have a boyfriend? "Well you don't seem to have a girlfriend so who are you to talk? It's no surprise either that you wouldn't. Or maybe you do and you're just that much of a jackass that you'd still hit on other girls?" Her fist tightened around her mug as she leaned back in her seat so she was hopefully less tempted to hit him. No such luck.

He called her a bitch and she laughed. "You hit the nail on the head. What an observant boy you are." She doubted he actually knew how right he was. She was a lycan and a girl so in a way she was indeed a female dog and on top of that she was just a bitch in the casual sense. It was hard not to be a bitch when everyone around her was so infuriating and her mental state was... well, a little short of healthy. How could her mental state be healthy when the people she loved and trusted most turned out to be liars, thieves, and murderers?

No, she didn't want to think about that. She had been trying so hard not to.

She focused on his words as he continued running at the mouth and rolled her eyes. "At least I am beautiful," she said snidely, clearly taking a jab at his looks - the ones she hadn't even taken the time to notice so who was she to really say anything bad about them? Well, it wasn't going to stop her regardless. He was really pissing her off.

She was about to make a few harsh comments back to him when he apologized... and this time he actually seemed sincere. Tristise frowned and felt bad for her own attitude when he was apologizing for his, but at the same time she wanted to keep arguing with him. She didn't want to forgive him and let him get away with his rude comments. Not that she was any better, but that's why they called them double standards. She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip, internally arguing with herself over apologizing too (or more likely just staying quiet) or snapping at him to get him to keep fighting.

"A bad day? Are you sure that's the reason and not that you're just a prick?" She felt awful the minute the words left her mouth, but a larger part of her just wanted to keep fighting with him. She was feeling ridiculously belligerent this evening. "If you know that your should take out your bad day on someone why the hell do it?" She should ask herself the same thing.

[brogan vassar]

here comes the showdown

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She had him with her response; yes, he didn't have a girlfriend. What a hypocrite he was! Brogan just wanted to take her off of the pedestal she seemed to be on. He found that she thought she was too good to give anyone the time of day, and he didn't like that. He wished that when he'd walked over it had been a sweet girl, rather than someone that flared all of the temper within him. This was just the icing on the cake of his bad day.

What could he say to that? All he could feel were the words of admitting defeat on his tongue. He didn't have a snarky comeback. He tried to find the words, but he was still new at this. Sometimes it took him awhile to completely become who he was determined to be. He had to let the temper that roared within him completely surface. "Of course I wouldn't hit on a girl if I had a girlfriend," he finally spat, a his voice much lower than hers. It wasn't a remarkable comeback, at least it was the truth. "I wish I did have a girlfriend so that I could have avoided this..." The words were muttered, but surely she picked them up.

He raised his eyebrows at Tristise agreeing that she was a bitch. Then she even - almost - complimented him; he would pretend it was more than it was. He tried to take deep breaths, one that would calm the emotion roaring within him. He found himself torn between wanting to apologize his ass off and wanting to just flat out punch the girl, to yell at her even more. "So you agree that you're a bitch," he said, leaning back against the booth with a smirk on his face, chuckling slightly. "At least we're on the same page," he suggested, raising one eyebrow.

Brogan stopped at her stab at him. He knew he was gorgeous, he'd had plenty of girls to attest to that. After claiming the family business it seemed the girls were endless, the more badass he was the more chicks swarmed at his side. Tristise obviously wasn't so swayed by the act. Maybe he didn't want her to be. For a moment he pictured what it would be like to have her as a girlfriend, as a wife. A visible shudder ran through him as he envisioned the constant arguments. He could only imagine how heated they would be, both of their tempers exploding. But then he could imagine the make up sex - how hot would that be? Brogan coughed slightly as he slipped out of the future fantasies - no they weren't fantasies, they were nightmares of the future! Yet, he coudn't deny how sexy she was; how gorgeous they would be together.

Brogan was like any guy, one minute he was present in a conversation, the next minute his mind wandered to more sexual thoughts. Even if he was aggravated by the girl - hell, it seemed to encourage those thoughts. "I'm gorgeous," he decided to comment on her jab at his confidence. "I could have any girl I wanted - even you, if I didn't lose my mind first," he said, regaining any confidence he had lost. He leaned forward at her with a satisfying smile, daring her to challenge his words. He knew she would. But he knew that he could have her, Brogan just... didn't want to put himself through that.

Though, his fantasies objected to that.

The apologies spewed from his mouth when he realized how mean he was being to a woman he'd just met. He couldn't assume so much about her, he'd only met her, what, 20 minutes ago? He couldn't believe how he'd been acting. He did feel bad, yet he could still feel anger boiling under the surface. His words were genuine, and he tried not to be enraged at what she said. He spoke more calmly. "Well, I might be a bit of a prick," he gave her that, lately that was how most people took him, "but mostly a bad day - I just started a new job, and it wasn't exactly what I expected," his voice was more human as he chuckled at his horrible day.

"I didn't mean to," he said softly, vulnerable eyes meeting hers. He couldn't be that nice though, she would walk all over him if he was too sweet. "Honestly? You just infuriated me to a point I've never experience before..." He said the words, trying to breathe away some of that ever-present anger. "And on top of my already horrible day... It was too much, I'm sorry..." he was honest, he was apologizing. Brogan kind of wanted to go hide from everyone and everything. He took a big gulp of the drink she ordered for him; he didn't care, he needed it.

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[Tristise Rederick]

Tristise was used to disappointing people. In fact, one could say she was pro at it. So it wasn't too much of a surprise that Brogan would be utterly and completely disappointed by the reality of who Tristise was - everyone else was. Well, except perhaps her grandfather, but how well did he really know his granddaughter? He no doubt thought they were close and he surely knew how unhappy she was with her family, but did he really know anything about Tris?

Did he know how angry she got, how quickly? Did he know how much it killed her to hold her tongue around him and behave? Did he know that she was obsessed with running? Did he know that she had no interest in men or ever getting married? Did he know she'd be happy to leave home and never see anyone - including him, ever again? Did he realize that she was secretly a hermit who hated people and public places and social events and being bothered and being paraded around like a doll? The only thing she did like was dressing up, but she'd be perfectly happy to do that when the mood struck her in the privacy of her own rooms. She didn't feel the need to have a spectacle to justify wearing nice clothes.

Tris was hardly paying any attention to the boy across from her. Maybe it was the polite thing to do, but she had clearly demonstrated that polite wasn't part of her vocabulary or capabilities. Not unless under the watchful eye of Adair Rederick. Maybe it was because Adair was a lycan just like his granddaughter so she respected him - the whole alpha of the pack thing.

It was good to hear him claim he wouldn't kiss another girl if he had a girlfriend, but Tris' faith in the opposite sex was practically nonexistent after everything with Landon and various other men in her life so she went more by actions than words. Saying he'd never cheat was one thing, but putting into practice was all that mattered.

"There's no point in denying I'm a bitch. It's rather obvious I am. I hate people, I speak my mind without sugar-coating, I feel no remorse in telling people off or shutting down unwanted advances, I am tactless and merciless. In short, my bark is quite fierce. As a warning - my bite is worse." She chuckled to herself at the truth of that statement and chugged half her butterbeer down, repositioning herself on the seat so her back was to the wall and her long legs stretched across the length of the bench.

The blond snorted and rolled her eyes as he claimed he was gorgeous and that he could even have her, "The day you have a chance with me is the day I decide to take over the family business and hell will freeze over before that happens." For starters Tris was against the family business wholeheartedly as she understood it right now. Second of all her father and uncle were ahead of her for the position of head of the family if Adair croaked. Finally, Adair was a healthy old man and a lycan so it was unlikely her grandfather was going anywhere any time soon. He'd probably outlive his human son if no one physically killed him.

He continued to apologize, though he did slip in that she infuriated him more than ever before. Her lips against her mug curved into a smirk. She removed the drink and set it on the table then rested her hand beside it and traced her fingers over the rough wood grain, "I'm glad I could help you realize the extent your anger and frustration could go. I pride myself on helping people reach new heights." Tris snickered quietly. "And stop with the fucking apologies. We both know you aren't sorry and neither am I. You were being honest and apologizing for that makes you seem like a damn pansy... but maybe that's what you are? Spineless and weak?"

Call a man's job into question and he might make excuses or even get a little huffy. Call a man's strength into question and they tended to try and start a world war. Tris knew her words were tiptoeing around dangerous grounds, but like she said - she didn't sugar coat her words, her opinions. The way he apologized was like a pansy. Only apologize when you truly don't mean something or do something wrong unknowingly. Don't apologize for speaking your honest opinion. She never did.

[brogan vassar]

here comes the showdown

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Brogan's eyebrows remained raised throughout the course of her own personality assessment. The faintest of smiles was present on his pretty lips as he thoroughly listened. Brogan had just receieved a neatly phrased paragraph of information. She had essentially just summarized herself, saving him some of the work that came with figuring a person out. He would never give out that much information about himself and his personality to a stranger. He was sure that she had much more to tell about herself, perhaps this was just her usual warning.

He contemplated her words. Brogan could tell her exactly how he was, his own warning... but he couldn't form one. Ever since he took on the owning role of his business, he had to undergo some changes. Brogan didn't used to be quite as hard-hitting as he was now. He couldn't remain the boy he once was and take over, he wouldn't have receieved the respect needed to run the job. Not to mention the death of his family had royally pissed him off. The temper already present within him just seemed to multiply.

"Your way to keep everyone at a distance; so that nobody can get too close," this was Brogan's observation to her statement, after he had assessed her warning thoroughly. "I don't particulalry like people either," he agreed with her statment with narrowed eyes. "I'm not scared of you," was his final statement. He wasn't scared of her bite - he probably should be - but he refused to let that confidence slide. He was convinced he could take her, even if not in the physical sense.

She had a family business too? It was his immediate, curious thought. But no, a family business could mean anything. It didn't have to mean a group of people participating in organized crime such as he, it could be owners of a shop... anything. Brogan almost laughed aloud at his stupid assumption. He really needed to go to bed early, he was acting and thinking like a moron. "Don't underestimate me," he said, more a of a joke than a threat. He had to be confident though, and even though he didn't want to put up with her, maybe he wanted to win her over. Brogan wanted the thrill of the chase - he wanted to tame her, she seemed too independent, too certain. It brought out the male instinct in him - domination? He nearly laughed out loud again.

She challenged him, and he quickly lost sight of seeing a girl who just didn't want to let anyone close enough, she didn't need to give away her love, she didn't want to her heart to be broken. A pansy!? He hardly was. A pansy couldn't do all that he'd done for his business, he was committed, strong... He made himself that way, even if he'd never been known for those qualities. They'd always been within him in a quieter way... But all of that was besides the point - she was a bitch.

There was no hiding his reaction, his mouth hung open, his brows furrowed. Shock was replaced with a glare. Who did she think she was? And what on earth had posessed him to strike up a conversation wtih this girl? Brogan knew he should have run. He didn't want to have to yell at her again. But he felt it again, in the pit of his stomach... that sickening anger that he couldn't stifle.

"I was trying to be nice! But my god, you certainly don't deserve it do, you? What on earth happened to you to make you so... infuriating? Do you get off on it? What did I ever do to you?" He spewed out a whole bunch of words, nothing too insulting... but he was so... exasperated. Tristise seemed like an insufferable fictional character... surely people like her didn't actually exist? "I am not a pansy or spineless, you don't know me at all - have you ever heard of chivarly? I was being nice! If all woman were like you I would have absolutely no interest in dating. Ever." In the midst of his angry words he'd flagged down the waitress, and in that time had somehow downed two glasses.

"So fine, I won't apologize anymore. I am not sorry for anything I said, because you are... unbelievable..." If she wanted to awaken a stir within him she'd definitely succeeded. Finishing yet another drink he hoped he didn't have to stand anytime soon... surely if he kept going this rate he would topple over. And he certainly didn't need to give Tristise anymore ammo - clearly she had enough.

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[Tristise Rederick]

"My way to keep people at a distance, ha. You think it's all a front for some sad, lonely, pathetic little girl? Hardly. In fact, if only that truly were the case, right?" Tristise smiled bitterly. When all this started maybe it was a front. She had to really work hard at hating people and being defensive and cold toward them, but now it was easy. Now she found it was second nature and it was a hell of a lot nicer than being around people and socializing. All in all Tris felt much more comfortable by herself than chatting with people, than being at school, than seeing her family. She'd thought of moving to the forest and taking to her wolf form now that school was out. If she did she'd never come back, never shift back.

So what was stopping her? Well, mostly the desire to play quidditch honestly. It was a little difficult to fly and swing a bat in wolf form and she really loved both of those things. She could do with the other players on the team, but unfortunately they were necessary for a match. Unless of course she could figure out how to animate dolls or something and get them to play instead of living people. Maybe tonight when she got back to school she'd check the library for spells before she left for home.

"Not scared of me?" Tris raised an eyebrow, "Well I wasn't exactly trying to make you scared, but in all honesty if you valued your life you would be." She wasn't lying about that either. He could ask Landon just how scary and dangerous Tris was when angered. Or even when she wasn't angered. Not to show off, but just to demonstrate (ok, maybe a little to show off) Tris emptied her mug of butterbeer and then enveloped it with her hand. She still wasn't looking at Brogan, but she held the mug where he could clearly see it, over the table, and then squeezed. She hardly applied pressure (in her opinion) and the thing shattered in her hand, glass shards falling to the table beneath. Ok, maybe she was showing off more than a little.

She nicked her hand in a few places, but nothing severe, in fact it was barely bleeding - scratches. A waitress who was nearby gave her a disapproving glare which Tris ignored. "I work out a lot." She smirked to herself, knowing full well she could lie around on a sofa all day and still be able to crush Brogan's skull like a grape. Being a lycan had its advantages. "As for underestimating you, I would never. In fact, I think I'm overestimating your abilities." Actually, Tristise wasn't even thinking about him at all. She could care less if he was skilled in the art of seduction or a capable fighter or anything. Big whoop.

What happened to her? Well, that was personal and she wasn't in a sharing mood. He didn't need to know her uncle was psychotic, her family was deranged, and that if she wasn't a lycan she'd be terrified for her life living in that fucking house. "Do I get off on it? Actually, yes. I find it terribly hot to get under other people's skin. It really turns me on," she said, her voice lowered, almost husky, except that it was totally fake. She watched the waitress come over and give the boy across from her a few drinks and subsequently she watched him down them like water.

She watched him closely now and smirked. He was a light weight, she'd bet her money on it. "I think you have little desire to date already, honey. If you did you would have left the minute you figured out what I was like and moved on to easier prey. Unless you're a complete idiot or truly that cocky to think you could change my mind?"

He said he wouldn't apologize anymore and she laughed. It could be construed as a mocking laugh, even Tristise was determined to believe it was, but in reality it might just have been a genuine laugh. "I am pretty unbelievable, huh?" She sighed contently and ran her fingers through her hair. "If it's any consolation, you're pretty unbelievable too. Most people don't manage to last more than five minutes around me. They storm off or... something." Something a little less pleasant and completely involuntary. "Congratulations, hot shot," She added - definitely mocking him this time.

[brogan vassar]

here comes the showdown

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He was done. He was so done with her. Not only did she openly insult and disrespect him, but now she was proceeding to mock him. It was childish, wasn't it? Brogan couldn't believe he'd stayed so long already. He should have left in the beginning, reading the immediate warning signs.

It shouldn't have taken him this long to realize he didn't need to put up with it. He didn't need to put up with her. There was just no reason for him to sit here and have his manly ego bruised. He'd had a stressful enough day, he didn't need her to call him out - they'd just met! It was clear that they clashed, two personality types that didn't mesh.

Were they too different or too similar?

Brogan didn't have the time to analyze her anymore, aside from her outward beauty he saw nothing. He didn't have time to waste on a girl that had up too many walls or was just a complete bitch. He needed a woman that was hard-working, kind, and yet feisty. He didn't think that Tristise accurately fit the definition of his ideal woman at all.

He would walk out of this pub, and he would gladly forget about her. It would be so wonderful to drink away the memory of the insulting blonde. Brogan felt relief at his decision, he was going to leave her and let her know how rude she really was. And if his departure made no impact on her at least it gave Brogan the peace of mind that he was, indeed, a man.

"Well, I'm sorry," he started, an obvious change in his demeanor. He let some of the anger go as he prepared to walk away from her; rid her from his life from here on. "But I don't have the time for a fxxking case like you... I have more important things to do. I hope, for your sake you get help for whatever issues you have. Goodbye," his voice had taken on an eerie calm.

He gave her one last glance, the intensity of his prior anger held in the glare as he placed the money for his and her drink down before he walked out. Wasn't he such a gentleman? You could call it chivalry, or a slap in the face.

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[Tristise Rederick]

"Well, I'm sorry." Here we go again... except... there was something different about his tone. About his whole demeanor. Tristise finally gave the boy her attention - her interest peaked by the tone of his voice. Was that anger? Maybe authority? Either way, it didn't sound like a pansy and that was cause enough for Tris to be interested. He got more feisty. Of course, he didn't know what she was or who she was. If he did it would probably be a different story.

"But I don't have the time for a fxxking case like you... I have more important things to do. I hope, for your sake you get help for whatever issues you have. Goodbye." She smirked a little - borderline real smile. He was almost as amusing as he was aggravating when he was in a bad mood. Get help for whatever issues she had? Short of her family getting locked up or killed there was little hope for that. At least not as things stood currently.

He slapped down some money and swaggered out, causing Tristise to roll her eyes. 'That little shit paid for my drink too. He's lucky he already walked off or I'd shove it back down his throat.' Tristise sighed and stood up, collecting the money and motioning to the waitress. "Put it on the Rederick tab." The woman nodded and walked off. Tristise straightened her jacket and made her way out of the establishment with her usual scowl, heading back for her last night in the castle.

((that was totally lame, but it was an ending post so I guess it's expected? >.>;)