brogan vassar
wizard
daily prophet owner
forget the tension[br]when we fight[br]we'll make it up[br]turn down the lights
Posts: 38
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Post by brogan vassar on Nov 10, 2010 19:55:43 GMT -5
Brogan's strong response to Tristise's complaints had surprised him as well. There was something about another man harassing her that made him mad. He would have nobody treating her in such a way when - as much as he hated to admit it - she'd been a textbook employee. He felt the need to defend her - even if he disliked her, even if she didn't need protecting.
"So you'd like me to have a cute nickname for you..." He said, his smile growing into a smirk. His words were more as a statement, yet they bordered on questioning. He wanted her to justify her wishing that the nickname was at least slightly cute. "Unprofessional, maybe. But forgive me if it takes me awhile to wrap my head around the fact that you've suddenly become painfully professional..." Brogan let his eyes narrow.
He then managed a chuckle at her sudden bout of bragging up herself. "You're the most conceited person I've encountered..." He stopped, not caring that her words were so close to the truth. "But you're right," he admitted. His admission was barely a whisper, though he knew she'd still catch the words, assuming her hearing was exceptionally acute.
Again he had to assess his feelings, letting her have the glory of being right. Hell yes he felt inadequate. Brogan had went through life always being stronger than woman. It wasn't very often he could be bettered in terms of strength. His breathing had gotten heavier from his outburst, their bodies suddenly much too close in a small room, dark and private. It was then that she gripped him, and he allowed another confession, "Yes," it was honest; defeated. He couldn't lie that her confidence and strength challenged his ideal of a woman.
Though it did this, it also awoke a strong need to overcome it. He would never be stronger than her, but he could be capable of handling her. It took quite a man to handle such a fierce woman, and he had every intention of getting there. He could handle her, mostly. Though she still had this power to make him hot and bothered. Brogan needed to get that out of his system so he could be more calm and collected with her. He'd become nothing more than a ticking time bomb, one that reacted easily to touch.
Brogan was stuck in her grip, his eyes closing as he awaited her choice of attack. When it didn't come he opened his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief that was very short-lived by her slap. He rubbed the sensitive area, both thankful and displeased by the separation between their bodies. He could only imagine the fire that would pass between them if they were pressed together completely, chest to chest. He tried to ignore the visualization of that occurrence. Thinking about it was not helpful to his temper or restraint.
The anger that he felt was soon replaced with regret. Although she was a pain, and a shewolf, she was also a woman. He had no right to put his hands on a woman, regardless of her strength. It was all the same, morally, in the end. "I'm sorry," Brogan said suddenly, sincerely. "I didn't mean to... You make me so livid... You make me feel things I can't explain or control," he brought a hand up to his forehead, rubbing away some of the tension.
Their distance helped him clear his head.
His exhale relieved him, and he made way to the ruined stack of papers. He started to sort, more quickly, shoving them into neat little piles - away from the off chance clumsiness struck him once more. Her words hit him again though, flaring his temper uncontrollably. "You talk to me as if I'm nothing more than a child. You don't have to act like my mother," Brogan suddenly flinched at the use of the word. Sometimes the loss of his parents crept up on him. It's not like he'd had the time to properly deal with their passing.
"And please, spare saying that I am incapable... Because I'm not. You may think I'm useless, but I'm not. You don't know me, Tristise... You can't assume, based on what you've seen of me what my capabilities are," Brogan had started the words being authoritative. Slightly. Though the anger seemed ever-present.
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Tristise Rederick
witch
ministry undercover daily prophet secretary lycaness
[size=1][b]I just wanna set you on fire[/b][br][i]so I won't have to burn alone[/i][/size]
Posts: 77
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Post by Tristise Rederick on Nov 11, 2010 16:04:20 GMT -5
Tristise rolled her eyes. "I don't want you to have any nickname for me. We're not friends so you shouldn't call me by anything other than Miss Rederick or Tristise. Just as I shouldn't call you anything other than Mister Vassar, sir, boss, and the like." Of course in her head she called him Brogan, but not out loud. Her brain still had a bit of trouble processing the fact he was now her boss though.
He called her painfully professional and she chuckled, "Painfully? Really? So my level of professionalism bothers you? Would you prefer I was more lax, more casual? That leads to us arguing though. Of course, you really don't seem to mind that since that's exactly what you were trying to do earlier, wasn't it?" She smirked and shook her head. "You're quite the troublemaker, boss."
"You're the most conceited person I've encountered..." Another smirk. "Aww, boss. You're too sweet! Honestly though, if you think I'm conceited you should meet yourself." She didn't say it in a malicious way. In fact, she didn't even mean it as an insult. Thinking highly of himself worked for Brogan, not that she'd ever admit that to him.
"Don't apologize. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned before how much I hate that. If not... I hate that. It's done, it's over with. No need to apologize, just don't do it again." Despite her words the back of Tris' mind kept whispering 'do it again, do it again' - what sort of kinky freak was she? No, she needed to put an end to that immediately. "You make me equally livid. There's something about you that I can't pinpoint that simply drives me crazy. I'm usually just a cold bitch to everyone, but you rile me up without even trying."
The lycaness turned to look at her boss properly and sighed. "I have no intention of acting like your mother. Honestly, I wouldn't know where to begin." She didn't, either. How were mothers supposed to act? Her mother certainly wasn't the best role model... but then again she supposed the way she treated Brogan was much like the way her mother treated her. Not quite as bad, but cold and cruelly. Ugh, now she actually felt pretty horrible. She even waved off his last comment, "Yeah, alright. Fine. You're not incapable or useless. You're just clumsy. Of course it is rather difficult not to judge you based off what I know since what I know... is what I know."
"You judge me too. You act like you know exactly who I am and what I'm like just because we've met a few times and I've acted a certain way around you. There's a lot more to me than that. I'm not just an aggressive bitch. I'm not just a conceited, power-hungry, tyrannical, cold-hearted psycho. I'm not denying that I am those things, but I'm more than that too and it's not like I don't have reason to be the way I am as I'm sure there's a reason or two behind the way you act. So why don't you save the lecture and the reprimand. Don't be a pot calling a kettle black." Tristise sighed and went back to work sorting the piles and trying to ignore the fact that she had just shared a bit more than she had ever wanted to with Brogan. He had a really annoying habit of making her do that.
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brogan vassar
wizard
daily prophet owner
forget the tension[br]when we fight[br]we'll make it up[br]turn down the lights
Posts: 38
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Post by brogan vassar on Nov 14, 2010 21:51:36 GMT -5
"Tristise. The goddess of logic, the girl who deems nicknames inappropriate while the disregard of others' feelings, self worth, etc, is perfectly acceptable. I know I can trust your level-headed wisdom. The next time I feel the need to act unprofessionally, I will keep in mind how sweet you've been since I've met you," his words reeked of obvious sarcasm, and his smile became twisted and bitter. Their relationship was becoming odder by the minute.
Together they were trapped in a web of hatred, games, fighting and an undeniable desire. Brogan's emotions were forever on a roller coaster with her. Sometimes he needed to step back and take a breath, as close proximity to her made him feel so strongly. Everything was sudden and powerful; it took him over regardless of the control he believed he possessed.
"Miss Rederick, I assure you that your impressive career-orientated qualities do not bother me in the slightest," Brogan's voice became higher as he mocked their conversation, participating as a boss should. They shouldn't be working together. It was wrong in so many ways; destined to fail.
Although he attempted to lace his words with sarcasm, a smile and laugh soon broke through at the continuation of her words. "Yes, Tristise, I am a trouble maker," Brogan brushed against her, holding her arm in order to keep them both steady in the small space as he reached around her, gripping more fallen papers. He took advantage of the contact, letting his eyes roam greedily over the face he'd come to despise and desire. He studied the way the dim lighting cast shadows on her features, her eyelashes seemingly longer than ever.
Brogan let his eyes linger on her perfect mouth, plump and supple - pursed in that way where he knew a comeback was forming on the edge of her lips. Or perhaps one of her mini-lectures - it was always a surprise with her. In his trance of acknowledging her irreplaceable beauty, he nearly struck a hand out to test the feel of her platinum strands. But he was not so vulnerable, as there were only moments where his gaze weakened and softened.
Mostly his eyes were narrowed, a smirk forming at her words. "I won't lie that I was trying to rile you up..." His smirk turned into laughter - You make me feel too much was on the tip of his tongue - but instead, "You're crafty. Hiding an insult in your peppy little sentence... But I must not deny I am conceited, as much as you can't deny we are almost equally so," Brogan chose to pull away after he spoke, noticing how the closet seemed to constantly push them together. He was drawn to her in the confined area; he was forced to take in her beauty.
"Ugh, I forgot," he said, slight disgust haunting his playful tone. "You're never happy. I'm sorry for being sorry - oh, oops, was that another apology? Do they frighten you? Honest feelings? Sorry for upsetting you with my apology - oh, there I go again... Silly me..." The words implied he was toying with her, though he spoke to Tristise through the usual clenched teeth.
Something else clenched within him when she furthered their conversation - a fire that he'd been yet to fully recognize. He drove her crazy? Tristise's words lingered in Brogan's mind, making his body act in ways of complete betrayal. The pure satisfaction that her words gave him was stunning. It was he that riled her up, that made her crazy, livid. Brogan having the ability to make her anything gave him an exhilarating rush of power.
He'd made his way quite far through the disrupted pile, his hands and eyes working eagerly. He had to distract himself from the words passing between them, the tension that was forever there - in some form or another. "I don't know what it is either." But I'd die to find out. "Why is it that when we're begging to be without each other we're forced to be inseparable?" Brogan's spoke so low that it was only as loud as a breath. The thought barely made it to a whisper - it was to a point where he was entirely sure he hadn't said it at all. Brogan's brow furrowed in confusion.
Was fate royally fucking with them?
It was only then he really thought about how coincidental everything had been with them. The pull was undeniable; good or bad. But he didn't want to get into that. Not with her.
The conversation took it's typical turn for the worse. The breath he inhaled hissed between his teeth, his back becoming rigid as he sorted aimlessly. Brogan let the mother commentary slide, as she was hardly that. Her tendency to lecture may prove annoying - yet he hardly would think of a mother in such a way. She was anything but. Brogan's only reply was a bite of his lip, his eyes drowning in text.
"I'll take clumsy," he added in, his head nodding in agreement. There was no way he could defend his balance when only moments before he'd plummeted to the ground, taking their hard work with him. "And I know, I know, I'm a hypocrite. The personality I've witnessed is just so strong that I can't see anything but that. It astounds me that beneath all of that there's room for anything else..." Brogan sighed, his words had admitted defeat for him.
Tristise always won. And it pissed him off.
But at the same time she'd given him the knowledge that there was more to her. She had a story, a life... and somewhere deep down, a heart. It frustrated him to no end that this new understanding left him with the urge to get to know her. No, he most certainly did not want that.
Again Brogan distracted himself with papers.
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Tristise Rederick
witch
ministry undercover daily prophet secretary lycaness
[size=1][b]I just wanna set you on fire[/b][br][i]so I won't have to burn alone[/i][/size]
Posts: 77
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Post by Tristise Rederick on Nov 15, 2010 20:23:52 GMT -5
"I'm not even going to go there." She could have. She could have mentioned he also disregarded her worth and feelings. She wouldn't though. She didn't need to get into who was less professional between them. Though if truth be told it was clearly Brogan since earlier he had tried to rile her up. She might slip in a few poorly veiled insults now and again. but nothing that she expected to crack his professional mask whereas he tried outright to crack hers. Anyway, that was another story she didn't want to get into.
Tris couldn't help it. Try as she might she chuckled when he claimed her professionalism didn't bother him at all. The way he said it... "I can't... no. I can't handle you actually sounding like... a boss. I mean like a real boss. Not that you're not my real boss, it's just... that was too formal for you. It wasn't right on any level." She shook her head and chuckled again. "I guess this is what happens when you meet your boss before you work for him. You just can't get the same level of formality anymore."
"I wonder... if we had met at the job only would we still feel such animosity toward each other? Probably not since you seem to... usually... like my professionalism." She paused a moment, imagining it, and then oddly enough her lips twisted into a grimace. The idea was actually unpleasant. "We'd probably be so rigid if that was the case." Suddenly she she could understand why he was interested in riling her up. The idea of them both being so professional toward each other was... boring.
He brushed against her and she found herself highly aware of his presence. She didn't like it. She held her breath, but still she could smell him clearly. She could hear him breathing louder than she should have. She could swear she heard his heart beating, that's how tuned in to him she was. Tristise was tempted to shove him away so she could breath easier, but she didn't need to start another fight between them - it wouldn't end well for her sanity. She was grateful when he pulled away after speaking. She let out her breath quietly and rushed through sorting another pile of papers, trying to forget the discomfort his proximity had caused. "I really won't deny that I'm conceited. I don't really find it a bad thing when you can back it up like we can though."
We. Had she really just admitted she thought he had every right to be conceited? She internally scolded herself, but kept her physical face blank as if she didn't care about her slip up.
He apologized for apologizing and then for apologizing for apologizing for apologizing. His tone was mocking though and she narrowed her eyes at him in a dark glare. He asked if she didn't like honest words and she rolled her eyes, "What's honest about it? Most of the time people apologize but they really couldn't care less. Which is why I prefer example, action, to words." He wasn't too far off though. When things were starting to be too honest, too touching, she hated it. It was true. She just didn't know what to do in those situations. She wasn't an overly emotional person and she didn't know how to handle emotions and honesty most of all.
Tristise was an honest person usually... in some ways. She wasn't used to others telling her the truth though. She also found she just couldn't be honest about herself or feelings. Not even with herself which was why she shook her head almost violently and grabbed a new stack of papers to sort through, trying to distract herself from thoughts about emotions and who she really was which was where the conversation had her mind going.
The lycaness chose to ignore Brogan's mumbling. She didn't have an answer anyway so what was the point? She sat quietly, easily sorting a whole stack and moving on to another. They were finally making a good dent in the messy closet. Maybe they'd get home at a halfway decent time after all.
"And I know, I know, I'm a hypocrite. The personality I've witnessed is just so strong that I can't see anything but that. It astounds me that beneath all of that there's room for anything else..."
Tris sighed and rolled her eyes. "Then let's pretend there's not. Let's just pretend I'm an evil bitch. It's probably easier for us both if we do. I didn't say that to make you wonder or anything. I'm perfectly happy being viewed as a psycho, I just... I was just saying." What was she saying exactly? She was confusing herself. It was like her brain wasn't working anymore in this tiny room. Maybe it was because if he tried to figure out who she really was under her bad attitude she'd actually have to figure it out too. She didn't even know who she really was anymore. She effortlessly acted like a bitch all the time, but it continued to feel like an act and not something natural, but if she asked herself what felt natural she couldn't even begin to guess. She didn't know how to express anything other than annoyance and indifference.
For so long she hadn't had a reason to act any other way. Now she had moved from her family home and she had room to breathe. She had room to be free. She had no idea what that meant though. Who was she and how was she supposed to act? No, she didn't want to think about that either. It was just going to give her a headache. 'Being' was just too complicated.
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brogan vassar
wizard
daily prophet owner
forget the tension[br]when we fight[br]we'll make it up[br]turn down the lights
Posts: 38
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Post by brogan vassar on Nov 16, 2010 8:18:11 GMT -5
Brogan shrugged off her unwillingness to pursue his mockery of her. He simply smirked, which broke out into a toothy smile. It was best for her to avoid where the conversation was headed. It wouldn't take much to transform their teasing conversation into a full blown argument.
He then scoffed at her laughter. "So you have no respect for me..." At her words he came to this conclusion, a frown coming over his features. He did laugh a little though, as her cracking up made a smile form on his lips. He began to ponder her next words, about them not meeting beforehand. "You'd be cool and distant. I wouldn't know the difference. I would be the same. We'd hardly interact. Not in a realistic sense, anyway," Brogan tried to picture what it would be like.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like if they both wore masks around each other. It would be odd to not know the fiery passion that lay within the pair of them. It just wouldn't be the same. He'd probably have one less gray hair, however.
Brogan watched the way she acted around him with their closeness. She seemed to be struggling with the proximity. But in what way? He couldn't help but ask himself. Then Tristise spoke, and he most definitely caught the we. A smirk lit up his face, and he pulled closer to her - if it were even possible. "I like that you know, where my cockiness is concerned, I can talk the talk and walk the walk," Brogan's voice hinted at joking, though his words were borderline seductive. With his light hold on her arm, he took advantage of their bodies' near touch. Moving her arm up and down resulted in her fingertips brushing ever so slightly against his hard abdomen. With that, and a smirk, he pulled away and proceeded to act like nothing had happened.
All he did return to a pile of papers, sorting as best he could. They continued their casual conversation, Brogan shaking his head at what she had to say next. "You're very skeptical. I only apologize when I absolutely mean it. Saying sorry cramps my style," Brogan said, joking slightly - but it was obvious that his words were true. He just wasn't well at expressing his feelings by times. Especially with Tristise. "I agree that action is more effective." He'd give her that. And he began to connect her issues with apologies to a lack of trust. It made sense to him. If her family business was as similar as it was to his, you learned very quickly not to trust others. Especially to trust their words.
Brogan had a weird urge to pat her on the back after her little spiel. She sounded stressed out by the end of it. "I know the difference, though. I can't just pretend that behind your walls, your armour that there is absolutely nothing. You're allowed to be viewed as more than one thing..."
He frowned at the way the conversation was headed. Surely Tristise wouldn't care for it either. "We should probably save the rest of this for another day. I think it's getting pretty late. Thank you for your help," Brogan said, eyeing her above the document he was scanning.
OOC: Man. My post that I had written and deleted by accident was awesome. And now this one is a bad generalization of the previous. Sorry for the lack of detail.
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Tristise Rederick
witch
ministry undercover daily prophet secretary lycaness
[size=1][b]I just wanna set you on fire[/b][br][i]so I won't have to burn alone[/i][/size]
Posts: 77
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Post by Tristise Rederick on Nov 16, 2010 10:39:09 GMT -5
"It's not that I don't have any respect for you... I just can't be so formal with you. I mean I can, but it'll feel quite awkward." Tristise shrugged and sorted the last of a stack of papers in her hands. Did she have respect for him? She must have because if she had no respect for him she wouldn't bother being professional around him in the slightest. She shrugged it off and grabbed more paperwork.
She rolled her eyes as he stated he could walk the walk too. Just because she acknowledged he had reason to be conceited didn't mean he had to boast. It also didn't mean he had to 'accidentally' cause her fingertips to brush his abdomen. She clenched her jaw tightly and sat rigid until he dropped her arm and moved away from her. Merlin, you briefly think a guy is attractive and suddenly your body and instincts jump all over it and make you want to jump all over him. How frustrating.
"Style? You have that?" She smirked, trying her best to recover from their position a moment ago. "You do strike me as the type to have an unapologetic reputation. No wonder we don't get along very well."
Brogan went on to tell her he couldn't ignore the fact there was something beneath her 'armor' as he called it. She scoffed and waved her hand at him nonchalantly. "Hush, you're starting to sound too sentimental. I'm a bitch, you're an asshole. We hate each other. End story. Everything will just work out better like that." It would, it really would. She was here basically to make sure the Ministry and Redericks were cast in a favorable light and on top of that to make sure Brogan's organization didn't get 'ahead of themselves' as her uncle had put it. Meaning she was there to make sure Brogan's group stayed out of the Redericks' way and off their radar. If Brogan crossed a line... well, Tristise was there to make sure it never happened again. Thus, hating his guts was so much better for the both of them. Trusting each other, getting along... things would get messy and complicated.
He suggested they stop for the night. Tris nodded and finished sorting the last of her stack, then carefully stood, pulling out her wand in the process. She tapped each sorted pile individually causing a folder to appear and wrap around them. she then grabbed the folders and went to the nearest filing cabinet, sliding them into the drawer. "We'll need to actually file them later, but for now this should be good enough." She brushed off her skirt and headed for the door, exiting and making her way to her desk to collect her things. She poked her head back into Brogan's office and gave him an awkward, weak smile, "Goodnight, boss. See you tomorrow." With that she turned on her heel quickly and hurried home.
What a strange day. What a stranger boss. Well, at least she wasn't bored at the Daily Prophet...
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