Dogs + white carpets (Mat) - The White Tower

"Womenfolk are fah breeding', juss like menfolk. De purpose beh fah us to continue our race. Survival ah de fittest."

"Well, we don't exactly breed like humans do anymore now do we?" she smirked. "And even then, the whole continuing our race, or bloodlines our legacy.." the youth shrugged her shoulders. "We still suffer from the fact that a fair few individuals ought to have been removed from the gene pool a long time ago. Where as some who ought to be continuing their blood lines simply can't or wont"

"So, de question beh, what do ya do if dere beh those dat thought ya Pere shouldn't 'ave continued?"

"No one will ever fully share someone else's view on things and creatures like us live long lives, which in turn gives us all the more opportunity to earn enemies" she leaned away from the wall and walked slowly over to him to stand next to the massive Gangrel. Her eyes on the city landscape rather than on him.
"There were plenty who wanted my father dead... and in past I've made sure to clear a few of them from his path" the youth took a deep breath and let out a sigh as she exhaled. "Had I been here I would've done the same... but as things are now.... well, he's already gone isn't he..."

A breath of wind tugged at her clothes and at her hair, making her close her eyes for a moment as she turned her head with the wind.
"I wouldn't have thought twice about killing for him. He wouldn't have asked me to, he never would... but it was my place to protect him. Unfortunately in the end, I couldn't protect him at all... so" Charlize shrugged her shoulders. "Here I am... without a direction or a goal I guess"

"Killin'fah sumone else, clearin'dere problems... dat's selfish, Charlie." the Gangrel remained unmoving, unflinching to the elements. He was a pillar, after all.

She smiled, a sad touch to it.
"I know" the youth admitted. "But I've always been a guard dog. What use am I without anyone to protect or look after? There isn't anyone left I care about now"

And that earned her a smack upside the head. Frighteningly enough, Mat felt... stronger.

"Try dat again. Dis time, wid brains."

"Oh for fuck's sake..." she cringed, but while he was stronger, a frightening thought indeed, she seemed a bit more resilient than the first time they'd met. So at least his training had produced some results.
"It's selfish alright, I know" Charlize rubbed the back of her head with a sigh. "I don't know what to do alright? What I want to do for myself is still for him..."

"See, now dat's beddah. But ya can't go whinin'bout not knowin'ahnd do nuttin'. Sah, ya lost sum'one. Plenty ah sum'ones. Ah protect Duckie, though she don't need it." he said simply.

"I'm not whining, I'm simply stating a fact" she still rubbed the back of her head. Sheesh, he could probably take someone head off without even trying if he wanted to.
"And I am doing something. I'm training to fight you"
It was... well, something.

"And sure, there's plenty of someones, just very few worth while"

"Ahnd 'ow wouldja know if dey beh worthwhile, if ya so busy hidin'de truth yaself?" he snorted at her.

"There you go with the truth again. I thought I already told you? This is who I am. Charlie, Charlize, they're both me. They're both my identities. Two sides of a coin, Mat" she sighed.

"Ah meant wid 'ow ya feel."

"What? You rather I went on a short lived rampage because the local Clan members are pussies who stood by and let my father be killed? Because my Elder's a bitch who I rather see chained and at the bottom of the river for the next fifty years? Because I'm frustrated as fuck and I don't know what to do about it? Or anything else for that matter?" she threw her arms out with a groan.
"You're the only one who've truly managed to catch my interest in this town and you can barely stand my presence. The rest consists of madmen and horny Romeos who think putting on a farm boy act or playing smooth is going to win them anything. Fine Mat, I'm frustrated. But anything short of logical thought isn't going to be able to channel it into something constructive"
Urg, starting headache.

She asked for it, whether she understood it or not. This time, it was not a cuff. This time, he just straight up decked her. She wanted to vent? Vent like a Brujah.

God damn Gangrel hit like a freight train and the floor wasn't exactly forgiving.
For all her natural grace and dexterity she rather ungracefully hit the floor with a groan, needing a moment to push herself up on her elbows as she wiped her hand across her lips. Problem was, despite her blood, despite her lineage, she rarely ever did act like a Brujah or vent like one. It just wasn't her.
"You really know how to treat a lady don't you?" the youth spat, a few drops of blood staining the floor as she pushed herself over on her back and looked up at him. She didn't, however, try to strike back, or tried to get up for that matter. Instead she tucked a hand behind her head and let the other rest on her chest, slowly allowing her body to heal what the Gangrel had actually broken in one good hit.
"Fuck it Mat.... Sam tried for nearly a century to get me to vent by beating on him. It didn't work... you're not going to change that. You are, however, much more likely to pulverize my bones and quite frankly" she cringed slightly as some of said bones snapped back into place. "I'm quite fond of my bone structure and would like to keep it intact"

He simply seemed to disappear - but that was more because of the speed in which he moved. He had learned the gifts of her Clan - turning a hulking monster into a speed demon. It truly was a disturbing thing, considering the amount of momentum he must have gathered to throat her - to lift her up by the throat even as his right hand sprouted claws. And when Mat sprouted claws, they were not the small weapons known to his Clan. They were claws of the destroyer, of Fenris himself - nearly a foot long and wicked. Claws that could rend flesh, bone, and concrete without a second thought, without more than a whisper. They tore through clothing with barely a sound, as he 'took his time' as with his increased movements, it was almost a leisurely passing of his natural weapons rather than something that happened in the blink of an eye.

Mat was not a sexual creature - the disrobing, leaving only long red marks rather than bone deep ones, was only the first step, as at the end of Charlie's speech, at the end of his movements, he roared. She claimed to be an attack dog - she was no Beast. Mat was a Beast, and to prove his point, he reverted to his more primal self. Fight or flee, child. Fight or flee.

Her skin... her perfect alabaster skin and he'd cut it.
That simple fact actually cut deeper than his claws had done as the youth's wide eyes stared in disbelief at her hand and the blood that stained it.
He was right though, she wasn't a Beast. The Brujah was an assassin not a head on fighter. And compared to him she didn't have much to put up a fight with. Yet, when faced with an option of fighting and fleeing... in her own Heaven?

Her hand trembled, the steel blue eyes darkening as something much more primal than her usual composed, logical self took over.
Fight or flee.
She never did flee....

Instead, she brushed her hand across her chest, covering it in as much blood as she could and lounged for the Beast who could no doubt beat her to a pulp without second thought. But that was a little detail her inner beast had forgotten as the frenzy took hold of her.

At least he did not use his claws more than that. He did, however, move into the lounge, his hand covering her entire face, and slamming her into the floor - not caring if he damaged it. His eyes burned with a fever, a fervor as his instincts called out to him. His teeth were bared though no growl rumbled his chest. Thankfully. His eyes were storm grey.

Despite her strength, which was more than enough to mark as her as inhuman, it was nothing compared to his. And her thin frame and light weight body was easily thrown into the ground as if a rag doll, the scream of anger, of pain and frustration muffled by the giant hand covering her face as she felt bone cracking upon impact with the floor.

Pain though... was a kind of relief in the middle of it all. It had always helped clear her mind even if she didn't normally push it to these kind of extremes. So while a part of her still wanted to scream, another was slowly trying to break through the red haze of anger thanks to the brief flash of clarity that flared with the infliction of bodily harm.

Her fingers twitched, manicured fingers grasping at his wrist but not really able to pry his hand away. Not really able to move or say much.

The Gangrel, like the freight train he was, had run her down easily.

He lifted her up bodily, bits of debris still stuck and piercing the no longer perfect skin. His hands remained upon her face - thankfully without suckers or poisoned barbs. Either of which he could manifest with a thought.

"Maybeh it beh time ya stop lookin'fah sum'one to defend. Maybeh dey're provin'ah point. Ya need tah beh defended. Trained. Taught." he snorted. "Ya can't even 'arm ah three year old Vampire."

"Fuck you..." came the still angry though at least coherent muffled answer, it was after all somewhat difficult to speak when you had someone's giant paw of a hand covering your face. Her hands still around his wrist seeing as they couldn't really do much else.

"While ya might 'ave admitted teh bein'de correct gender, ya wouldn't survive. Ahn ya ain't mah type. Ah prefer des femme dat got fight, got backbone. Got purpose." as he tossed her aside like so much garbage.

"Roux likes'em pathetic. Ya could ask'em." he looked down at her body. But not down at her.

"Really Mat... fuck you" she groaned, moving the back of her hand across her lips as she pushed herself up and slowly got to her feet. Still bleeding, still naked, and seemingly not giving shit about either as she raised her chin to look up at him.
"You think I've survived as long as I have without being able to look after myself? Without being able to fight?" the youth coughed, filling her mouth with blood and spitting it onto the floor. She looked shaky, but she was at least standing. The thin frail frame that of a teenager no doubt, probably quite beautiful when not covered in blood and shallow. She looked like she hadn't had much to eat before her embrace, that much was for sure.

"I'm not a beast like you. I'm an assassin... A dagger to the back not a fist to the face" Charlize grit her teeth. "Call me pathetic if you like. Honestly, you think I care? I have nothing to prove to you. Only to myself. I don't bow, I don't break no matter how many times someone shatters my bones thinking they can tear down my will. Besides...." she actually smirked, briefly, but still. "You made it damn clear the first time we met that I'm not your type"

The naked youth straightened her back properly. A breath of cold wind brushing across her skin, creating a sharp contrast to the slight burning sensation of the cuts.

"Don't presume you know me... just because you see the surface like everyone else does..." Charlize growled. "I'm still going to fucking kick you ass before I leave this town...."

"Keep tellin'yaself whatever ya need too. But each lie ya tell - even tah yaself - brings ya down. Ya ain't ahn assassin. One day... ya'll see dat." and he turned his back on her, apparently leaving her in that state, unafraid.