morevacant: (upset)
[personal profile] morevacant
It's official. She's failed out of uni. Lydia Bennet, the thick sister of the bunch. The useless one. The disappointment.

Well, her mum won't be disappointed, once Lydia tells her about Cesare. She will quite understand that Lydia spent the time she should have been studying for her exams in Cesare's hotel making him happy. When Lydia tells her. Right now, Lydia doesn't dare: her mum is the biggest gossip and it will take two minutes for word of her and Cesare will be everywhere.

Lydia heads for her favourite haunt, a cosy Starbucks close by. She fancies an extra large double shotted caramel macchiato. What she actually gets is a small tea. Because she's broke. She's failed and she's broke.

Why is life so hard?
longterm: (Default)
[personal profile] longterm
Cesare Borgia thought that Nancy and he were getting along well. In fact, he thought they were getting along very well indeed. They had shared drinks at this point, joked about the failures of their past lovers and even sassed about each other's prowess on occasion. Overall, things were going great.

So Cesare is....surprised when Nancy comes storming into his office with a look on her face that tells him nothing good is going to come of this.

"Please, Nancy. I'm in a meeting..." he says, sitting at his desk, gesturing at the young, beautiful woman opposite him. It's an excuse though. Quite frankly, he has no interest in the conversation that Nancy is about to throw at him, even if he has no idea just yet what it's actually going to be about.

(It's become gently NSFW in this thread btw with mentions of sex.)
dirtyredneck: (OOC RAWR)
[personal profile] dirtyredneck
There was once a Countryman who possessed the most wonderful Goose you can imagine, for every day when he visited the nest, the Goose had laid a beautiful, glittering, golden egg.

The Countryman took the eggs to market and soon began to get rich. But it was not long before he grew impatient with the Goose because she gave him only a single golden egg a day. He was not getting rich fast enough.

Then one day, after he had finished counting his money, the idea came to him that he could get all the golden eggs at once by killing the Goose and cutting it open. But when the deed was done, not a single golden egg did he find, and his precious Goose was dead.

-The Goose and the Golden Egg, Aesop's Fables
stauncherhearted: (illuminated)
[personal profile] stauncherhearted
[Here we go again, new month, same ladies. A few starters in the comments, hmu for something specific. I just want a place to put stuff. Carry on!]
baisant: (7)
[personal profile] baisant
The invitations go out a week in advance. Some of which are hand written (ink on parchment, of course), to those of whom he wishes to see personally, though of course they are welcome to bring guests. The more the merrier, or so the saying goes. Especially in the case of such an event as this. Jean-Claude is vying for the spot of President of the Night Council, after all, and while the event is not technically connected to the election, timing is everything, mes amis. And what an event it is.

The instructions on the invitation are quite simple. There is to be a ball. But not just any ball, a Vampire Ball. If you are a vampire, an ally, or interested in becoming both, you are more than welcome to attend. It is a night to celebrate the collective history of the Nest of London. Formal historical costume is a requirement of attendance. Masks will be allowed as well, though the event is technically not a masquerade. All wood and silver will be checked at the door, for this is a night of entertainment.

The event is being held in a private historic home, presumably for the atmosphere. In the foyer there is a coat check (along with wood and silver check, courtesy of Guilty Pleasure's well-loved bouncers). The guests are funneled through from there into the main ballroom, where yes, there is a live string quartet playing. How did Jean-Claude afford such decadence? It helps when you have lived for so long as he has and have had very little to spend money on besides clothes and decadence. It certainly couldn't be his own private residence -- could it?

Off to the side of the ballroom is an array of chaise lounges and other sofas and chairs, while on the other may be located several tables of refreshments. It is clearly indicated which table is intended for the vampires and which is for those who are still among the living. There is another bouncer posted on watch over the refreshments, and the punch in particular -- they need not have a repeat of the last time someone spiked their drinks in such a fashion after all. There is quite a selection of finger foods on the table for those who are so inclined to partake in such delicacies, and there are offers of champagne, wine, and punch for that table. There are finger foods on the other table as well, although not as many, and each one has an accompanying card indicating the donor's name and blood type, just in case you were wondering why they were for the vampires.

The house is of course bigger than the ballroom and the foyer, but few guests are allowed to venture up the front stairs or beyond the little hall to where the restrooms are located. That does not mean, of course, that there are not those who manage to sneak past the little corded ropes meant to keep such troublemakers within check, especially when the bouncers are otherwise preoccupied. There are all sorts of fun rooms to explore.

And so many costumes from so many eras! Guests are encouraged to talk amongst themselves and share memories of the good old days for those lived through them, or ask questions if there are curiosities from those who did not. Today is a golden age, Islington Nest is at its strongest yet, and it is a time to celebrate what it is to be Vampire. There is more to such a life than drinking blood and having fangs, a sophistication and experience beyond the hunger. If nothing else, Jean-Claude hopes to share this with the attendees on this evening.

Which at least manages to begin without a hitch, but if you should manage to stay for the end of the night, prepare for some fireworks to ensue. For what is a party without a little drama...

(ooc note: anyone is welcome to attend, though if you are anti-islington you will not get very far in the door before being turned away. certain allies/those who have helped jean-claude in the past will have received direct invitations, but there is a general buzz passed around the nest and islington allies ahead of time that will have spread through the supernatural community leading up to the day itself. as stated above, historical costume is a must -- vampires are encouraged to wear something from an era they lived through, though humans are welcome to whatever they desire! masks are fun so wear one if you like though there will be no anonymity here.

details will be in jean-claude's comment below, but his ex, asher, is going to be crashing the party at the end of the night, so if you're there for the end of the evening expect that as well. i will make a comment for asher as well on his own so you can tag with him before the main event if you decide you'd like to skip out on the fireworks as he and jean-claude butt heads for the first time in hundreds of years.)
stauncherhearted: (I like this job only slightly more)
[personal profile] stauncherhearted
Set a few hours after this thread.

Warnings: likely mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse, prostitution, domestic abuse, and criminal activities.


There's a bit of grease on Nancy's jeans as she pushes open the door to Cooper's apartment, one arm carrying a large brown bag. She puts her purse down next to the front door immediately as she comes in, calling: "Cooper! I'm home- stopped in at the shops on my way home, thought I'd pick up some more gin, and that whiskey you like." He should be home- he didn't have a Night Council meeting, and since he'd been returned from the Other Realm, he'd been laying low. She didn't blame him.

She's fresh from work, clear from the smell of oil that clings to her skin as she puts the bag of alcohol on the front-hall table. The gin she'd grabbed for herself was the cheap brand she usually drank, while the whiskey, actually paid for, was from a higher shelf. She knew what her boyfriend liked to drink, and she wanted to provide it for him, when needed.

Once she turned to take her shoes off, that's when she noticed it. The tiny pieces of what she assumed had once been a vase, nearly pulverized. The alcohol is immediately forgotten about as she calls out again, a note of worry in her voice: "Cooper? What happened?" She steps further into the apartment. "Did Juliet break a vase?" She can only hope it was that. But this wasn't the first time she'd come home to broken vessels in her entry-way. Far, far from it.

As Cooper was about to learn.
emotioneater: (Caught in a lie)
[personal profile] emotioneater
 Cooper had spent the day in his office, mostly lost inside his own head. The upheaval of the Night Council was weighing heavily upon his mind. First Samantha had been made Mother of Witches. That in itself wouldn't have been cause for alarm, but now reading about the scandal that Sylvia Redbright was involved, he had to wonder. He could smell a power play from a mile off. After all, he'd been involved in more than one himself, both in his time running the Nest in Pemkowet with his mentor Stefan and the Nest here in London. The real question here is who was this going to benefit? Cooper could see part of the picture, but not the whole thing. He cursed himself for a fool, too stupid to put all the pieces together.

Ah well. Maybe it would come to him if he discussed with other members of the Nest. He turned out the light in his office and picked up his keys. A good ride back to his and Nancy's apartment would clear his head. He called home to let Nancy know that he was on his way. Just as he was about to hop onto his motorcycle, a woman with beautiful golden eyes came up to him. "Mr. Cooper? Might we have a word?" As he turned to answer her, the glamour melted away, revealing a fae with the ears and eyes of a doe, a pattern of dark dots surrounding her eyes and nose. Cooper felt a pair of strong hands grab him from behind, but before he could even begin to struggle, the doe blew powder towards him, and he slumped into unconsciousness.

Within minutes, there was no sign of what had happened to the vampire, save for a shattered cell phone and the keys still left in the ignition of his motorcycle.
morevacant: (Default)
[personal profile] morevacant
It's the lunch time after the night before, and Lydia is nursing a champagne hangover. She keeps her sunglasses on even in the little cafe she's tucked away as she nurses a strong coffee.What a stupid night. Lydia's dreading seeing the papers. Although the incident with Samantha was minor, and the woman perfectly polite, Lydia sees it differently. In her mind, it's a massive blow. It's like she's been rejected, a little bit, from the best society.
Feelings hurt, she's text Nancy to meet her. Nancy listens. And Lydia loves to be indulged.

She pulls out her phone and texts Nancy.

'Hurry up. So much to tell you! MWAH! xx'
moralabsolutism: (Movie Double Indemnity)
[personal profile] moralabsolutism
[Catch-all for Shade's characters! Specific starters in the comments. If you want anything with either Cooper or Rorschach, PM me or let me know at [ profile] Light_shade!]
knowntohisfriends: (Default)
[personal profile] knowntohisfriends
[Fagin made it very clear that celebrating Easter was not for him. Bringing in chocolate eggs and other sweets? No, not for him at all, but all for his boys, his good boys who did the work he asked them. Easter wasn't his holiday - though it can't be said that Fagin recognized the Passover all that well either, for as much as he would proclaim Easter was his treat to them.]

[Still... least the chocolate's alright.]
baisant: (Default)
[personal profile] baisant
Jean-Claude sits in the office of Guilty Pleasures, staring down at the account book laid before him on the desk. He is usually a lot more productive than he finds himself at such a time as this, but the air in the room is somewhat oppressive with the weight of time and memory that he feels bearing down on him, and he finds it difficult to concentrate on much of anything for long periods of time. The city is in turmoil over this business with the witches and the fae, and the wolves have begun causing trouble of their own.

He has made decrees of his own in response to these problems -- all vampires sympathetic to the Daybreak cause are to be expelled from the Nest. And the wolves? Well, since they were going about killing any vampire on sight that set foot in East End Pack territory, Jean-Claude made his own declaration in return. Any werewolf caught trespassing will be subject to punishment of that vampire's choice. He does not want an all-out bloodbath on his hands, to decree that they might kill on sight in return would be downright foolhardy. But he cannot let this go either. Perhaps he should have thought things through more, but he had been a bit preoccupied of late.

And that preoccupation had everything to do with the new portrait hanging on the wall above his couch. New, in the sense that it had not been there before, but definitely not new in age. Oil on canvas, painted over five hundred years ago, depicting three people dressed in the style of the 1600's. The woman wears white and silver with a square bodice showing quite a bit of decolletage, her brown hair styled in careful ringlets, with a red rose held loosely in one hand. A man stands behind her, tall and slender, with dark gold hair in ringlets over his shoulders. He has a mustache and a Vandyke beard, so dark gold they are nearly brown. On his head he wears a large floppy hat with feathers, his entire outfit of white and gold. It is the third that the onlooker will recognize. Seated just behind the woman, dressed in black with silver embroidery and a wide lace collar and cuffs, he too has his own wide-brimmed floppy hat, with a single quite feather and a silver buckle, this one black. Though he does not wear it, instead resting it across his lap. His black hair falls in ringlets across his shoulders, and his face is clean-shaven, his eyes strikingly blue even despite the medium. The other two depicted are smiling, but the third man -- Jean-Claude -- is solemn. A darkness to their light.

Jean-Claude does not know why Belle decided to send this painting to him. He has not gathered the courage in himself to ask, just yet. Neither has he gathered the courage to do anything with it but hang the piece on his wall. It is a reminder of what feels now as if a different life. He should have known, as the portrait artist had done, that he would bring a darkness in their lives. These two people he had cherished the most in all the world. Julianna. Asher. How happy they had been...

He pushes himself back from the desk with a sigh, feeling their gazes heavy upon himself. He will get no work done on this night. Perhaps he should take a turn about the floor of the club instead. Though he doubts that will do much to lighten his mood.

[ooc: feel free to visit him being maudlin in his office, or as he mopes around on the floor, or perhaps once he has found himself a corner of the bar and a glass of wine to nurse as well! c: ]
stauncherhearted: (thx for knowing to refill my wine glass)
[personal profile] stauncherhearted
It started as an absolutely routine trip to the store. Nancy'd ducked into her nearest magic shop, looking to replenish a few of her supplies. You could never have enough candles or sage, after all. With a small basket tucked under her arm, she'd picked up a few different items, looking at new herbs and books on charms. She almost didn't notice him- but when it was almost too late she noticed his soft, dirty-blonde hair. 

As soon as she saw it, she knew who it was. It was the boy- Joss, Cooper had told her- the one she had taken in after she'd found him. A child vampire, she'd been heartbroken for him, though Cooper alleged he'd truly been over six-hundred-years-old. She could hardly believe it, and honestly it was the very last thing on her mind when she saw him. She'd spent hours imagining where he was, hoping he was okay after he'd run out of her apartment. To her, he'd been a sweet, lost boy, not some old, cruel man.

But isn't that how it always went?

"Joss!" She called, and immediately ran over to him, wrapping her arms around his small shoulders. "You're alright!" 
morevacant: (smile)
[personal profile] morevacant
Well, it's not much, but it's home. Lydia grimly shuts the door on the very basic looking student hall. It's right on the border of Lambeth and Lewisham, just about in the good side, the safe side, to keep her mother from fussing. On the other hand, what mothers don't know can't hurt them, and Lydia is quite thrilled to be living so close to the border. For her at least, it's a little bit edgy, a little bit exciting. Even if it's thoroughly grotty as well.

(Mid day, March 11th, Lost in Lambeth) Read more... )

( Morning, 13th March, down along the Thames in Lambeth and Westminster)
Read more... )

(18th March, Shoreditch, 3AM)
Read more... )
dredefulchilde: (Default)
[personal profile] dredefulchilde
23 February, Early Morning

He wakes up in the middle of a field - actually, a football pitch in Hounslow, but it seems vast and strange to him. He feels a nagging sense that he's lost something important, but he can't remember what it is. On further thought, he realizes that it's not the only thing he can't remember. He has no idea who he is, where he is, or why he's standing in the cold rain. The only thing he can remember is the feeling of an old ring hanging on a chain against his chest, under his sodden clothes. It's familiar and safe, and he knows that if he removes it something very bad will happen.

So the boy crouches in the mud and puzzles through his odd predicament.

A woman at a bus stop opposite the park is the first to see the small figure in the rain. She approaches the pale child and asks him what he's doing out so early, offering her umbrella, but he doesn't seem to understand her questions, growing increasingly agitated and confused the more she tries to help him. He's obviously lost, and the thinness of his arms and legs concerns her. She calls the police.

That night, the evening news broadcasts a picture of a boy, believed to be between nine and eleven years of age, who has been taken into care by Child Protective Services. They are looking for anyone who may recognize him since he does not seem to recognize himself. It generates a bit of buzz online, but it's hardly a leading news story with everything else going on in the world.

There's a follow-up the next morning, but this time it leads the program: a nurse in the mystery boy's hospital room was found dead late last night, drained of blood, her throat ripped out. The child is nowhere to be found.

[Specific prompts in the comments!]
emotioneater: (I win)
[personal profile] emotioneater
A. What Do Vampires Do Best?

So, Cooper had won the seat on the Night Council. He had to admit that he wasn't sure that he was going to win the election. The competition had been fierce. But apparently the vampires of London had their heads screwed on straight. When he found out the news, he immediately let out a whoop and holler. Then he remembered that he was now a representative and now had to act with more decorum. He'd accepted the position gratefully.

So how to celebrate? Well, there was the traditional vampire method. He was throwing a party in his apartment, which let's face it, was spacious enough for about three parties going on at once. Everyone was invited. Yes, everyone, even those from factions the Nest was in conflict with, or those people that Cooper didn't particularly personally care for. He wanted it to be known he wasn't just exclusively about vampires and was willing to work with other supernatural types for the greater good. It was as good a time as any to approach with any issues other vampires may have wanted him to approach the Council about.

While he is his usual cheerful self as he goes around greeting everyone, those who know Cooper well will notice that he seems a bit distracted. Lately, he's been picking up on the emotions of those around him. It's not entirely a surprise. These things sometimes happen to vampires when they sire a certain number of vampires, or in Cooper's case, reach a certain age. However, suddenly developing empathic powers can be hard to adjust to. Knowing when everyone's lying, feeling sad, or suddenly horny is not the best thing in the world.

B. With Great Power...

Despite his usual irreverent personality, Cooper is taking his duties seriously. Now they're double-fold thanks to being both a Marquess and the Representative. Only one thing to do when he's got a list of vampires who all want to talk to him about their grievances. Out comes the motorcycle and off into London he goes. First up was the lawyer who specialized in keeping vampires out of trouble. Getting some of them to obey the laws of London and actually serve their sentences when they were caught by mortal police was a pain. Occasionally, calling in for back-up in the form of the Marquess was required.

He went along his day, checking in on one of his favorite blood donors to make sure she wasn't being taken advantage of by the older vampires in the nest. After talking to Shady Heavens, the infamous drag queen and her tally of grievances that ran sky high, Cooper decided he needed a break. Stopping at a fish 'n chips place, he was perched on his motorcycle, gnawing away at his lunch, and occasionally drinking from a flask of blood at his hip. He was bracing himself against the brushes of emotions he kept feeling from different passerby. Oh, he would be so glad when he got this new gift under control.

C. Wildcard!

Have an idea? PM me or ask at [ profile] light_shade
knowntohisfriends: (smile)
[personal profile] knowntohisfriends

[Even with the New Year, not much changes for the Dodger. Life is always as it was: stealing, avoiding the law, and keeping an eye on what people he needs to keep an eye on. So, as always, if you know who you're looking for, it's easy enough to find him around London. Especially near the markets. Because people are always a little less watchful of their own stuff near the markets]

[It's a fine, fine life...]

[[Open post for Dodger for January. If you want to do anything, feel free to hit me up at[ profile] werepuppy or just post in here!]]
specifiercity: (Default)
[personal profile] specifiercity
Arthur isn't the kind of person who makes a point of celebrating their own birthday. At 31 it's difficult to get too excited unless you're looking for an excuse to party, which Arthur most definitely is not. He treats himself to one of those expensive breakfast sandwiches and a gourmet coffee before he goes about business as usual for the rest of the day, though he has to hit pause on his work at Hillingdon a few times throughout the day as he accepts the routine phone calls from close friends and family congratulating him on making it another year, despite the fact that most of them don't even know what a high-risk life he leads.

In the evening he treats himself a little more, stopping into a few bars on the way home to buy himself a drink and check in with some friends and contacts alike, though he avoids any business-related discussion as he gets progressively intoxicated.

The rest of the month finds Arthur doing a fair amount of recon on the state of Islington. He spends a fair amount of time in bars populated primarily by vampires, or by the kind of people who know what's happening in the Nest. He'd like to know how the election is going to go before it happens, but mostly he wants to know how each of the candidates could change the landscape in London. He's much more open to doing small jobs in exchange for information but he plays his cards close to the chest as always. If it's relevant he'll share with his fellow Hillingdon clanmates but for the time being he sees no need for action on their part.

Otherwise it's business as usual. His day job is slow this time of year, but it'll pick up soon, so he's using this time to stay on top of the goings-on in the Underground.

[This post also serves as an open post for Arthur for the month of January! If you have anything you want to do with him just hit me up and I can write up a starter! Otherwise you can use anything above to get something going!]
freelife: (tumblr_inline_o3i8ubcdzB1tizwua_100)
[personal profile] freelife
[Another open post for both Evie and Nancy. Starters are in the comments, feel free to grab me at [ profile] sheakespeare if you want something specific, or write your own starter, I'm not picky.]
stauncherhearted: (holland-roden-teen-wolf-2102184)
[personal profile] stauncherhearted
Christmas day had gone the way it always did. Nancy had woken up early and gone over to the den with the multitude of Christmas presents she had for the boys. They'd gotten up, played games, opened gifts and ate more than they could recall eating within the last year. Along with all of that, of course, came the drinks, and by the time they'd lit the menorah that night, Nancy was drunk.

Most Christmases, whenever Nancy got too drunk, Bill wasted no time in carrying her off to bed and patiently putting her down. But this Christmas, as with so many others, he wasn't here. So the job of putting Nancy to bed- or at least making sure she got back to Cooper's house- was placed on the next logical choice.

The Artful Dodger.

Somehow, the two of them had managed to trip their way up from Saffron Hill to Cooper's flat, arm in arm. The two of them laughed freely, Nancy occasionally slipping Dodger her flask, from which they both had been drinking liberally.

The laughter continued until they approached the door, at which point, Nancy turned to her brother. "Shh, shh!" She tells him, putting her hand in front of her lips. The result is messy, and she leans against the boy already much taller than her. "We have to be quiet! Shh!"

Naturally, when a drunk woman tries to be quiet, she tends to make more noise than is necessary, and this was true for Nancy as well. She struggles to open the door, and gestures for Dodger to come in. "Come in," she says, even if he's already been in before.

The second she closes the door behind her, however, and she's dissolved into a pile of giggles.
vampire_barbie_girl: (Default)
[personal profile] vampire_barbie_girl

Caroline has worked hard to put together the evening's event, which is not only a Christmas party but also hopefully a chance for the Nest to celebrate its new leadership. The room at the Angelo has been decorated with a winter wonderland theme which, while not exactly original, is quite lovely.

A string quartet is playing a selection of Christmas and other classical music. Any attempts to feed on the musicians will result in the perpetrator getting thrown out the party, or worse. But feeding on any of the hired help or performers should be unnecessary, since several varieties of "blood punch" are available to drink. There is also food and other drinks available for non-vampire guests and anyone else who wishes to partake.

There is a strict black tie only dress code and Caroline will tell anyone who is under-dressed to go home and change.

[The event is happening on Dec 17th but I wanted to get it up early so everyone had time to do get involved if they so desired.]


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