undergrounds | [open] some nights, i call it a draw

I. Redbright Institute: night

Even knowing about their open door policy, Natasha hadn't entirely believed they'd take her. She isn't a student, for one thing, or even student passing. For another, she's a vampire. Vampires are't known for getting open invitations from other factions; at least not knowingly. Not without good reason. Mostly, though, she's never been exposed to anything quite like the institute before. She'd applied to join the outreach group as a wild grab, an attempt to have anyone at her back to keep her from being seen as a loner or a feral. Being either of those is a good way to end up with a target on her back.

And maybe, if she allows herself to think about it, the open door policy had sounds nice. It sounds like the direction she wanted to take. Everyone welcome as long as they play by the rules, keep the peace and keep their secrets. Natasha isn't the kind to let herself think that way too much, though, or get too optimistic.

Either way, it's a surprise when she's accepted.

She still fosters that surprise as she gives herself a tour of the grounds. It's in her carriage as she walks between buildings or down the halls; not overt confusion or surprise, but a little bit of skepticism, a little bit of caution, holding herself somehow a little reserved from her surroundings. Despite her years of training, there's still an air about her of someone who's not sure they belong, or maybe who knows they don't.

II. A Bar: also night

It could be any number of bars. Natasha hits a lot of them. She always picks the quieter ones, places where you can hear people talk to you and talking to each other. She's not in a good place for loud music or excited kids, or to get caught up in fights. She doesn't want to go places that feel like hunting grounds.

The thing is, she's here in the first place because she's thirsty. She's always, constantly thirsty, and she's trying hard not to go after the one thing she really wants. So like a cigarette addict reaching for a stick of gum, Natasha wanders into a bar. Alcohol is not what she wants, but it's one of the few things she can tell herself helps, at least a little.

She's usually sitting at the counter. Most nights, she orders vodka tonics. Bad nights, it's scotch neat. She doesn't try to strike up conversations, but she listens. Almost as much as the alcohol, it helps to listen to the low murmur of conversation around her. It's a reminder that the other patrons are real people, with lives and goals, things they want and look forward to, even if it's just a new job or getting in to pants of the girl at the coffee shop. It makes them more real, somehow.

So no, it's not a perfect coping mechanism, but it helps.

III. On A Night Bus: missed your train, didn't you?

There's a good mix of people on the bus tonight. A few kids toward the back on their way home from a party, looking tired and far from sober, but happy. A few older passengers coming back from bars, all seated alone and ranging from a professional looking woman sitting primly toward to front, brief case across her knees and gin martins on he breath, to a rough looking man slumped against one window, a nascent black eye just starting the darken his face.

Natasha's not sure what started the fight. It couldn't have been something anyone said, because she'd have heard it. One moment it's quiet. The next, a football fan and a derelict are climbing up into the aisle, in each others' faces and cursing. The bus driver calls back for them to settle down, but they don't.

It's not really that big of a deal—at least not in Natasha's mind. They're both just human. But the fight escalates, and the homeless man pushes the football fan hard just as the bus starts to slow to a jarring stop, and sends the fan stumbling toward her and the person seated next to her. It's reflex and instinct, that pull Natasha to her feet, bearing up to keep the fan on his feet and off their laps.

Which means that just for an instant, the person next to Natasha might get the view of a small woman catching a man a full head and more taller than her, from falling, keeping her balance in heels even as the night bus lurches to a stop. It's just a second, but if someone's watching, the'll see when she releases the lapse in her masquerade and remembers to stagger just a little under the man's weight, wobbling a little.

Then she shrugs free of the football fan, disengaging with a glare before she sits back down.

To whoever's sitting next to her, she gives an apologetic smile and plays it off smoothly, "Always something like that, isn't there?"

There's a faint Russian accent on her words, nothing that would interfere with clarity. The look that accompanies her words is innocent, as though nothing strange happened at all.

IV. Wildcard
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When the woman goes that still, Alex figures she hit a nerve. She sits totally still herself, waiting for the answer. When it comes, she scowls. It's something that she can actually understand and even sympathize with, and she hates that she has anything like understanding, let alone sympathy, for a vampire.

"Great. 'Cause London needs more of your kind." Better to be snarky than admit she has something in common with the woman.

"I think the city is big enough, you won't notice one more." Especially if that vampire is planning to keep a low profile, which Natasha intends to. She's not sure of the girl will take the hint or not, but that's on her.

"You did ask, though."

Alex shrugs. "I noticed you, didn't I?"

It's true though, she did ask. And she can't help but keep asking, like poking at a sore tooth to see how bad it is. She wants to know if she has anything else in common with the vampire. "Why London, though?" She asks very casually, trying hard to pretend she doesn't care. "There're lots of other big cities in the world."

Natasha doesn't argue that. She could, but it would be counterproductive at this point, drawing more attention, making more waves. She buries the part of her ego that would try to defend herself, focusing on the other question instead.

"Because there aren't a lot of places I could go where I wouldn't either have to join another nest being a fugitive from hunters and packs of werewolves."

Alex's immediate instinct is to say something sympathetic. But what could she possibly say? 'Sorry you can't go home ever and that lots of people want you dead, I'm in the same boat.' It's not like she can admit that.

Still, her mouth opens to say something, but she shuts it and sinks a little further into her seat. She stares out the window, frowning, before quietly but sincerely muttering, "Sucks."

"Yeah, it does." Her voice sounds distant, as though she's talking about someone else. Easier that way, to treat it like something that doesn't affect her—not that she doesn't have any skin in the game, but that her emotions aren't involved.

It's a face she's good at putting on.

They're not just talking about her anyway, are they?

"Not something I'd wish on anyone."

Alex glances sideways. It's an obvious olive branch, which is a very new and uncomfortable thing to be offered from a vampire. She grimaces, but gives the women an otherwise sympathetic look. "Not on everyone."

The grimace becomes a scowl as she turns back to the window, and she glares at the dark streets outside as though they personally wronged her. "There're some people I'd wish it on," she snarls, thinking about the man responsible for her parents' deaths. "There're some people it'd be too good for."

Natasha sits back, her gaze forward, letting the other woman have her bitterness. "There might be some people who deserve it," she says, not exactly agreeing but allowing that other people might have reason to.

Natasha's not much in a place to start advocating karmic retribution, though.

"I'm the next stop," she says then, as they pull away from the last one. "Maybe I'll see you around though. I'm working at the Redbright Institute."

She has no idea if the girl would have a reason to be there, but she mentions it anyway. It's sort of a risk, if she and her pack decide to get rid of a vampire without a nest to protect her, but Natasha could use a werewolf contact and the girl didn't seem entirely hostile at the end there... and even if not, it still let her know that Natasha was affiliated with someone, and that it wasn't other vampires.

Alex briefly wonders if the woman is referring to somebody specific when she says 'some people,' whether there's someone the woman was trying to get away from when she left Russia. Or maybe she's just trying to be civil.

Her train of thought is cut short by the woman talking again. "Maybe," she says curtly. "I don't have much to do with that place." She realizes that the woman is probably trying to be friendly, so she looks at her and says, a little more politely, "Maybe."

"Fair enough. But if you find yourself out that way..." Natasha shrugs, leaving the or if you want to talk again unsaid. "You can ask for Natasha Romanoff."

And if the girl doesn't take her up on it, no harm done. The only real risk if she does decide to follow up and Natasha's misjudged her. She thinks she usually has pretty good instincts about people, though—Natasha has learned to trust her impressions, and her feeling now is that whether or not the werewolf likes her(and she almost certainly doesn't, with no reason why she should), she's not going to come after her at work with a bunch of her friends.

"Sure." Alex doesn't share her name, even though there are probably a thousand other Alexes in London. It could help the woman track her down, and what if that all-pig diet suddenly turns into a craving for wolf blood? Better not to risk it.

Still, she can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for Russia, and it would be nice to be able to talk to someone from there, someone who understands some of what she's been through. So she makes a mental note of the woman's name, just in case she does decide to track her down later, and goes back to staring out the window.

[open] some nights, i call it a draw

I'm so so sorry for the delay, idk what happened to the notif for this

No worries. DW was dropping some of them for a while there.

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