Jean-Claude (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
baisant) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2017-05-13 12:45 pm
baisant) wrote in undergrounds2017-05-13 12:45 pm
Entry tags:
Lambeth Territory Claim: May 2nd [OPEN]
The news of the announcement of Nora's stepping down to pass on her position to Samantha hits Jean-Claude like the crack of the lash of his youth. He needs no witch's skill of divination to see where this is headed. Samantha has lost the support of the Night Council, so now she has found herself a seat upon it instead. She is already the Mother of Witches, and it is only a matter of time before her corruption seeps through. Those who are not strong enough to stand against it will either be turned in her favor or crushed under her heel. He may have only spoken to her the once, but he understands ambition when he sees it, and he knows her type. She will not let anything get in her way, no matter what the cost, or who suffers it. All in the name of her 'cause'.
Jean-Claude is not a particularly reactionary vampire, but in this instance he feels he can make an exception. The word goes out for those in the Nest who wish to participate to gather together, one hour after nightfall, at the Imperial War Museum, before they fan out across the territory from there. Jean-Claude's orders are clear. There will be no merciful duel of representatives this time. He has given Daybreak more than enough leniency and look what it has wrought -- now they must be cut down to size. Stand your ground and win this fight tonight. For your honor. For the dignity of vampirekind. And for the Nest.
He knows he must make a statement with this territory claim, and so a statement he makes. His hair tied back low on his head, his usual vest and jacket discarded for the evening, his white shirt making him seem even paler than usual in the dark of the night, the collar undone to his breastbone so that every now and again there comes a flash of the nasty scar of an old wound on his chest as he moves. The first witch they encounter recognizes the force of vampires approaching and begins to cast against their approach, sparks arcing from her hands like lightning. Jean-Claude whips ahead of the crowd, moving quick as a flash to catch the woman up against his chest and cradle her to him. Extending his fangs before he sinks them in to the side of her neck and drinking deep of her blood. She struggles against him and it has been a long time since he has fed like this, it excites the animal part of his brain that wants nothing more than to hunt and chase and eat and eat and eat. Forcing himself to tear his head back, he gazes back at the crowd, blood trailing down his chin and spotting onto the white of his shirt, the woman limp in his arms.
Steadying his gaze he reminds them, "Only if they fight, mes amis. But if they fight -- tonight, there is no holding back."
Jean-Claude is not a particularly reactionary vampire, but in this instance he feels he can make an exception. The word goes out for those in the Nest who wish to participate to gather together, one hour after nightfall, at the Imperial War Museum, before they fan out across the territory from there. Jean-Claude's orders are clear. There will be no merciful duel of representatives this time. He has given Daybreak more than enough leniency and look what it has wrought -- now they must be cut down to size. Stand your ground and win this fight tonight. For your honor. For the dignity of vampirekind. And for the Nest.
He knows he must make a statement with this territory claim, and so a statement he makes. His hair tied back low on his head, his usual vest and jacket discarded for the evening, his white shirt making him seem even paler than usual in the dark of the night, the collar undone to his breastbone so that every now and again there comes a flash of the nasty scar of an old wound on his chest as he moves. The first witch they encounter recognizes the force of vampires approaching and begins to cast against their approach, sparks arcing from her hands like lightning. Jean-Claude whips ahead of the crowd, moving quick as a flash to catch the woman up against his chest and cradle her to him. Extending his fangs before he sinks them in to the side of her neck and drinking deep of her blood. She struggles against him and it has been a long time since he has fed like this, it excites the animal part of his brain that wants nothing more than to hunt and chase and eat and eat and eat. Forcing himself to tear his head back, he gazes back at the crowd, blood trailing down his chin and spotting onto the white of his shirt, the woman limp in his arms.
Steadying his gaze he reminds them, "Only if they fight, mes amis. But if they fight -- tonight, there is no holding back."
Before!
He appreciates Evie's support of his decisions. It seems that she has always been there for him in one way or another, from when he had called for help rescuing Candy until now. He would like to think it was more than just the thrill of the hunt that has her standing at his side, and he turns to her for a moment, deep blue eyes regarding her carefully as they amass on the green one by one.
He does not ask her if he is making the right decision, because that would make him seem weak. But when he does speak it is quietly to say, "I have done my best to do right by our people." Which is much the same thing, in the end, really.
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Samantha was wrong. Slavery was slavery was slavery, any way you slice it. It was wrong to imprison someone without their consent. If a fae wanted to be a familiar, sure. Let them. But if they were forced into it? No.
She doesn't look at Jean-Claude. Instead, she watches her allies assemble. "You've done admirably, ushered in a new dawn for our Nest."
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"You flatter me," he replies. He glances out across the vampires gathered, before lowering his voice even further. "I should have said so sooner mon amie, but I suppose there is no time like the present. I am grateful to have you here at my support and by my side. No matter how the night should pass you should know that."
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"You do me a great honor, Jean-Claude. I'm proud to stand by your side tonight, and all nights past." There's a twinkle in her eye, but she's otherwise got her lips set in a firm line.
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"Ahh, mon amie," he says, fondly, turning to glance across the crowd as he does. "It has been some time since we were able to talk about more than business together. I fear I have been taking advantage of your loyalties while neglecting you in that regard." Though again perhaps this is not the best time to do so either.
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"No, think nothing of it. Though once tonight is over, perhaps we'll have to try harder to see one another outside of a professional sense." That is to say, let them be friends. She wants to talk about her girlfriend.
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"I would like that very much," he replies. "We might even chance to encounter each other outside of my club, at that. I have been known to get away from work, when the right mood suits."
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"Might we!" There's a twinkle in her eye. "I think I would like that. If I were to happen upon you. A day to talk about things other than politics." She wanted to brag about her beautiful girlfriend, really.
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"A day for exactly that, yes. I will have you know, there is more to me than my position. And my club, despite what you might think otherwise."
And he really would like to hear about that beautiful girlfriend, whenever he gets the chance to do so.
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"Then let's plan on it." Idly, she wonders if she has enough to talk about that isn't work-related.
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"Someone must pay the bills, as they say." He flashes a wider smile, a mischievous glint in his eye as he continues, "You may not have noticed, but they are not selling such outfits as these in common stores these days. I suppose one might accuse me of having expensive tastes."
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