#marcel001

marcellusxgerard:

jacksonxkenner:

Being met with hostility just as quickly as the words come out of his mouth - well that was certainly something he expected . Clenching his jaw for a moment he reminded himself to just let it slide and didn’t say a word at the threat or the insult. Marcel knew well enough the damage he could do in that swamp. Instead he stepped back slightly as Kieran moved between them and listened to the elder man speak of the Mayor walking through with papers. Jackson could imagine Mayor Lockwood spouting off order well enough and it took all his control not to snicker.

“That’s right, Father,” he agreed quickly vowing to himself to not let it end in bloodshed. He stood his ground with Hayley because he wanted to have faith that they could take care of what needed to be done without red stainin’ the pretty church. “Unfortunately the storm is a bit of an inconvenience for all of us but I have a feeling we are all old enough to be able to make it through without much of a commotion,” he continued with a head tilt but he knew someone could take it as a challenge. He meant it as such after all. It wasn’t everyday someone stepped up to bat being able to control themselves. Vampires included. “We may be able to walk out of here enlightened,” call him optimistic but if they could have one civil conversation, there was hope for more.

Marcel fell a step back as Kieran physically shoved between him and Jackson, though his eyes never left the werewolf. “No werewolves in the Quarter on pain of d e a t h.” He emphasized, head tilting to one side. “And you see, I don’t remember making any exceptions, Jacks.” He wasn’t buying it. He wasn’t buying Jackson’s deferential composure or the banner of peace he was waving. It never did end well between their people.

It was only when Kieran spoke up that Marcel broke his gaze long enough to frown at the priest over his shoulder. Surprise registered in his expression for all of two seconds before he took another step back, laughing now. “Oh…” He shook his head, “Oh, I get it now! You,” he jabbed a finger in Kieran’s direction. “- You were in it all along!…” Another laugh as his gaze returned to the Alpha standing calmly before him. “Well played, Kenner!… Well played.” He jerked his head in Kieran’s direction. “So what’s the next move, Father? ‘Cuz I’m just dyin’ to find out.“ He said, tone light and cheery although the look in his eyes was made of iron, and devoid of mirth.

Being in between king of the Quarter and king of the bayou wasn't a much coveted place. Jackson may have earned Kieran's respected for keeping his cool in many a hot-headed situation, but Kieran was under no deliusions that there wasn't plenty of posturing happening right now. Marcel was, characteristically, much louder in his distaste, but both men were capable of violence, and Kieran wouldn't have it in St. Anne's, but especially not where people could see.

"Do you really think I signed up to take in a pack of wolves on top of half of the population of the Quarter? Even without your decree, I'd prefer to be putting my own people, the humans, first, which I can hardly do with a church full of illicit wolves. This was over my head, but they're here now, and this is my church, so why don't we take this conversation somewhere a bit more private? Somewhere that children can't easily overhear?" Marcel was still the biggest threat–and he was a threat, despite their history of working together–so Kieran kept eye contact with him, almost enough to be a challenge, but not enough to situate himself as a third alpha male on the scene. He was an authority, and he wasn't willing to relenquish that, but he also was a peacekeeper, and that was equality important.