undergrounds | 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."

Threaded | Flat

Before
Evie is there, standing near Jean-Claude. She liked to keep close to him, when she could. She would consider them as close as she got to most people, and she had it in her best interests to look out for his well-being. She liked him, okay? She's an unofficial body guard.

She's dressed in her usual battle gear, armed to the teeth. She didn't want to harm anyone unnecessarily, and Jean-Claude had given the okay. Good- let them eat. It had been a while since she'd had something fresh.

During
Is it wrong to say that she lives for this? Because she does. The witches have magic, but Evie has weapons, and she has training, and she was far older than even the oldest amongst them, tonight. All the same, she's on her toes. It doesn't take long for some of the witches to find ways to create stakes, and she's quite sure she saw someone using a silver athame to try to stab someone, at one point.

If anyone were to notice, she manages to scale buildings like it's nothing at all, not even opting to use her usual zip-line to try to keep her Nest out of as much trouble as she could.

After
Evie's lipstick is the same color as the blood dripping down her chin. There's a bit more, over her cheek, where a witch had gotten a lucky hit, but the skin had long since healed. That was not the only place the witches had drawn blood. But she'd drawn far more, in the end.

All of the Nest had. It was a terrible price to pay, but they couldn't stand by and abide by slavery. They were, collectively, far too old to see that becoming any sort of good thing. Dawn is coming, the sky lightening, and most vampires are heading to the cover of darkness. It's over, she knows, looking over their new territory. They've won.

There are few things worse than a gang of vicious vampires swarming the place. The scent of blood is strong in the air. With it is the scent of death, that musty odour that vampires bring with them wherever they go. They are foul things dressed in human shapes and it is on nights like this that their true faces are revealed.

Mogget finds Jean-Claude and his sycophants from atop a nearby roof. "You!" he calls down. "Duke! The witches of Circle Daybreak ask that you cease this brutal attack on innocent residents. Will you come to talk?"

Defeat is by this point inevitable, and even Samantha knows that there is no point in prolonging it. That's why she has commanded him to negotiate the terms of their surrender.

"Fuck," Joss gasps as his body tries to knit itself back together. Despite all the blood he'd consumed, all the deaths he'd caused, it's taking longer for him to heal than it should be. Something about the magic that had hit him is slowing down the process.

This time, it might even leave a scar.

He winces as one of his ribs pops back into place. "I hope you're quite pleased with yourself," he says sulkily to Jean-Claude, entirely unused to being in pain for more than a passing moment. "Is the day ours?"

OTA

no subject

After - for JC