[open] Vampire Ball - May 26th (backdated)

[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.)

Comments

[morevacant]

Early Evening

Lydia is rarely seen without a drink in her hand. Her dress is certainly eye-catching - if only for the slightly historical inaccuracies that give the impression that Lydia was trying her best to look hot rather than actually from the regency period. She smiles brightly at those who catch her eye, and to those unfortunate enough to be stood near her, she begins to chatter.

"Well, I mean, it's all very tasteful, really, isn't it? I was expecting dungeons and cobwebs and maybe even a coffin or two. And actually, it's all very civilised, isn't it? Not that I mean that in a bad way, just… well, they have a reputation, don't they, vampires?"



Later in the night

Okay, so Lydia totally can't handle her drink. Nearly a full bottle of wine and a hookup or two later, and her makeup is melted and smeared across her face, her dress, already precariously low-cut, is perhaps an inch from revealing everything, and her hair is a mess.

Eurgh, this party sucks now. Lydia slinks towards the hallway, her hand trailing along the wall for slight support. She sways. Eurgh. And then she burps, though it's concealed well. But - oh no. She looks around for something, anything, so she's not sick on the floor. Luckily a rather large, and rather expensive looking gold vase is stood in the corner of the room. She makes it, just about, and as subtly as she can, she retches into it. Classy, Lyds. So classy.

Later in the night

[dredefulchilde]

"You're disgusting."

Joscelin has been watching the guests all night, lest anyone attempt to spoil the evening and ruin Jean-Claude's chances of winning the election. Like this embarrassing spectacle of a human being in front of him. He'd noticed her hanging off Cesare's arm, and watched with growing dismay as she'd gotten drunker and drunker throughout the night. Now she's retching into a priceless antique and it's only the fact that Jean-Claude has expressly forbidden him from eviscerating party guests that keeps her head attached to her shoulders, apparent relationship with Cesare be damned.

But Jean-Claude never said anything about being nice.

He hands her his handkerchief, an expression of open revulsion on his face. "Clean yourself up."

Sorry - been on holiday!

[morevacant]

"Oh shut up, you little leech." Lydia slurs as she pushes herself upright and away from the vase. She snatches the handkerchief and wipes her mouth on it. In the morning, she'll kick herself for this exchange - actually, for the whole night. She'll admit, at least in her head, that she's been an idiot, and end up on a train home so that she can cry all over her sisters. But for now, Lydia goes to hand back the soggy handkerchief and to push past Joscelin as she goes, staggering just a little.

[dredefulchilde]

Damn Jean-Claude and his insistence that Joscelin not kill the party guests.

He lets the handkerchief fall to the floor; he refuses to touch something so dirty. Instead, he grabs the girl's wrist and squeezes, just hard enough to be uncomfortable but not leave a mark. "Tread lightly," he hisses. "Lest you find yourself in a situation with a less gracious host."

[morevacant]

She shakes her hand free from Joss's grip. For a child, his grip is surprisingly strong, his voice surprisingly authoritative.

"Don't threaten me," she slurs. "I am not afraid of a child, even if you are a vampire. Even I know you can't kill anyone here!" Alcohol gives her a bravado that is completely un-needed in her already swollen head.

[dredefulchilde]

How very dull.

"Do you?" Joscelin smiles, showing a bit of fang. "You're very brave for a drunk, stupid little girl who's somehow managed an invite to a party thrown for her betters. Do take care."

He releases her hand.

[morevacant]

"Don't threaten me." She shifts uncomfortably. "If you try to bite me, I swear, I'll scream. And then you'll be in for it." Because that will get the tables turned in her favour.

Laterrr

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy'd been putting off speaking with Lydia all evening. She knew that it would come down to a very uncomfortable truth, and she'd have to be the one to say it: Cesare was not Lydia's boyfriend, and actually believed she was a prostitute. If Nancy didn't tell her, Cesare was going to probably be a huge jerk about it. So it was the best for everyone if Nancy be the bearer of bad news.

But now is not the time for bad news, and Nancy's almost thankful that Lydia is too drunk to notice she's there. Until the poor girl starts vomiting into a vase. A few martinis in her, and Nancy still knows what to do. So she's at Lydia's side, one hand holding up her hair, the other stroking her back. "There there," she tells her, "Get it all out, love." She'll text Jean-Claude about it later and apologize on Lydia's behalf.

[morevacant]

Oh thank God for Nancy. Lydia, shame faced, half turns to her friend. "I've made such a mess, haven't I?" she asks, mournfully. But a moment later, she's heaving again, and she hides her face in the vase.

"He didn't want me here. He didn't like the dress." She coughs out. "I thought he liked me."

She's stopped vomiting, but she doesn't move, despite the slightly sour smell from the vase. It's embarrassing to admit that the guy she'd been claiming as her boyfriend doesn't want her around and probably barely remembers her name.

[stauncherhearted]

"Just get it all out," she says, never stopping rubbing small circles on Lydia's back. When she's good and done, Nancy will help her try to straighten.

"Fuck him, then," Nancy says, because she can't have this conversation here while Lydia is this drunk. "He's obviously not worth your time, am I right? And certainly not ruining your makeup over." She gives a soft smile and tries to usher Lydia into one of the bathrooms.

"C'mon, love, let's get you cleaned up."

[morevacant]

"It's all a mess," Lydia lets herself be taken off by Nancy. "And now I've ruined your night and that stupid vase and the vampires all think I'm some dumb witch and I just want to fall off the face of the planet."

She wipes her tears away dramatically. Her breath stinks of sour alcohol. "Bloody hell, Nancy. You're too nice to me when I am such an idiot. He doesn't love me, does he? I was just an easy lay, wasn't I? God, I am such a dick!"

[stauncherhearted]

"No, it's not, you didn't ruin my night. I'm having tons of fun." She sits her on the comfy couch in the bathroom because in this place? Of course there was.

"Let's get you some water, yeah?" Nancy reaches into her purse, pulling out a water bottle that was far too big to fit into said purse. "Drink this. It's water."

She sighs. "I'm nice to you because I'm your friend, you. Don't call yourself an idiot, you just made a mistake." And so did Cesare, the idiot. "This is not about you, this is about him. Maybe he doesn't love you, but that just means you're free for someone else. And you don't want to have a man like Cesare Borgia love you, do you?" Yeah, she knows. "He's never been the sort for love like you want."

[morevacant]

"Is that his name?" Lydia gulps the water down, and burps. All pretence at elegance is gone. "I knew it was Cesare, but I didn't know his surname." Not that it matters.

"I thought he might actually fancy me a bit. I gave him my virginity!" She half whispers the word. "I thought it was special… and now he doesn't even want me here!"

[emotioneater]

Early Evening

Cooper raises an eyebrow in the direction of the girl. He thinks that they had met briefly, though he'd be damned if he could remember where or when. She was a witch if he recalled. The way she's prattling on reminds him once again of what it's like to be both eternally young and over two-hundred years old at the same time. Cooper himself is dressed up in a dapper little suit reminiscent of the style of the twenties.

"Clearly, you've been hangin' around the wrong vampires. You'll find most of the creatures of the night are all about their image." Cooper had never been one much for how he was perceived, not until he had won the election. Now he was more focused on making sure he was seen as being polished and not as just an eternal impulsive teen and a screw-up, the way several citizens of London liked to think he was.

[morevacant]

"I've not hung out with any vampires yet." Well, isn't he just a little bit handsome? Lydia smiles a little more cheerfully. "Well, none worth mentioning, anyway." She sticks her hand out. "I'm Lydia. And you are?"

[emotioneater]

"Cooper. Marquess of Hackney 'n Vampire Representative on the Night Council." He gives her a smile. Normally, he doesn't go much for the titles, but she might be a potential voter, so there is that. "See, now that's one worth mentioning." Just about every vampire here has heard of him in some regard or another.

[morevacant]

"That's a bit of a grand title." And it definitely catches her attention. Why, the guy's practically royalty. That could only be good for her social standings.

"I can tell." She half smiles. "You're so handsome everyone must know you!"

[emotioneater]

"Eh, I find it all to be a bit presumptuous. I just go by Cooper for the day-to-day stuff." The fact he'd actually made an effort to dress up for this event was astounding. But he was determined to put his best foot forward to help out JC.

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as all that, but I do know a lot of people. Comes from bein' in London so long." He shakes his head at her, a slow grin workings its way across his face. "But don't flatter me too much. I'm old enough t'be your great-grandfather times four."

[morevacant]

"Cooper." She grins. "I like it. It's just… normal, you know? Some girls are put off by big titles." Not Lydia. She loves them.
"And I bet you have all the girls."

Lydia chuckles at his comment. "I don't think it's your actual age, you know? You look young enough to me. Anyway, Cesare must be way older than you, and he is mega hot, don't you think?"

Early Evening

[vampire_barbie_girl]

Caroline had known that there would be non-vampires invited to the party but Lydia isn't quite who she was expecting. She has a feeling that the girl pops up unexpectedly a lot of places.

She has to laugh at the opinion on the decor. "I don't think anyone does the coffin thing anymore." Well, Klaus did have his collection but that was a special case.

[morevacant]

"I wonder why people draw them all the time then. I always thought vampires were going to be creepy, but some are really fit!" Lydia babbles a little bit.

"I'm Lydia, by the way. Lydia Bennet."

[vampire_barbie_girl]

"Caroline Forbes, nice to meet you."

For a moment, Lydia's words remind Caroline of herself, back when she first discovered vampires were real and wanted to know why Damon didn't act just like the vampires in her favourite YA novels. At least Lydia wasn't going to find out the truth the hard way - or at least, Caroline hoped she wasn't.

[morevacant]

"So do you know the man who thew this party?" Lydia takes a sip of her drink. "It's a cool house - nicer than where I live now, but I must say, there are some nicer houses in the Home Counties, you know?"

[vampire_barbie_girl]

Yeah, definitely a lot of human Caroline vibes off this one.

"I do know Jean-Claude, yes. I'm not sure if this is his house though. Actually, I think it probably isn't." She looks around. She thinks it was a pretty nice - certainly leaps and bounds above her little flat. "I don't know if you'd get as many people to come if it was outside the city."

[morevacant]

"Yeah," Lydia muses. "That's why I chose uni here. I was so desperate to get into proper society, and Mother would just not listen that the Turnip Toffs are just not the London Set." She grins, though it's a little shaky. She's still working on cracking that sect.