[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

Jean-Claude

[baisant]

FOYER - EARLY-EVENING
Jean-Claude stands in the foyer with his bouncers to greet the guests as they arrive. He is dressed perhaps more appropriately than most have ever seen him before -- gone is the poet's shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest, there is a dress code to enforce and although he dresses with a historic flair most of the time anyway, as the host he above all must participate. Having lived through the quite a few centuries' fashion, Jean-Claude was free to choose whatever era he so desired, so he chose what was perhaps the most romantic (for him) of them all. On his feet he wore low-heeled black leather shoes with a silver buckle, set with a false stone in the Paris style. The buckles on his black silken breeches match the same, in smaller size. White stockings and a white linen shirt, his black curls tied back at the base of his neck in a low tail with a black ribbon. The star of his outfit however is definitely the delicate emboridery, which is done over every inch of the breeches, jacket, and waistcoat of the outfit. The dark of the color and the light of the waiscoat contrast with Jean-Claude's dark hair, light skin, and deep blue eyes to give a softer, nearly androgenous quality to him. Especially when paired with his graceful movements and careful smiles.

Nearly, for there will always be something purely masculine about Jean-Claude. The line of his jaw, the set of his shoulders, the glint in his eyes as he reaches a hand to invite you through the door with a smile. The low silk of his voice as he speaks up to greet you.

"Bonne nuit. I am glad that you were able to join us on this night, mon ami."


BALLROOM - MID EVENING
Jean-Claude lingers in the ballroom once he's certain that most of the guests have arrived themselves. He nurses a glass of champagne here and there, and there and here a glass of red wine, though he has lost his taste for human food and drink and it is mostly for appearances' sake than because he enjoys either. It is not difficult to convince him into a dance or two, and of course he is nothing more than a gentleman as he does. Light on his feet, graceful as he moves -- nothing like the show that he occasionally puts on at Guilty Pleasures, though he can shake and grind what he has been given like the best of his dancers. As the proprietor, generally he does not have to.

The rest of the evening he lingers on the couches by the edge of the room, lounging and conversing. This sort of social life is something he misses, from days gone by. Times when such an event as this would be commonplace, and he would have at least one such an invitation a night. He is happy to speak to anyone who will listen about his outfit, about his history, about his past, about his experience, about being a vampire, and any other questions they might have.

(Little does he know how relevent such talk of the past is about to become.)

Now on his (ostensibly) second glass of wine, Jean-Claude makes another turn about the room. He smiles when he is approached and raises his glass in greeting. "How are you enjoying yourself?"


BALLROOM - LATE EVENING DRAMA
The lights are dimmer now that the evening is settling down. Jean-Claude has settled down in one spot, assuming that everyone who has wanted a piece of him has found him at some point or another during the evening, and now he is content to linger on the chaise he has planted himself on while quietly conversing with his fellows nearby.

He should have known, looking back, that the event had gone too smoothly. He should have recognized that gold brocade, amongst the crowd. He should have known there was only one man to wear such a color, with a mask to cover his face besides. But Jean-Claude's mind had been elsewhere, on the attendees he had invited and the ones they had accompanied themselves. But when the electricity cuts out rather suddenly, with more than a few cries of shock, Jean-Claude knows he was foolish to have trusted that his security would be enough for every bump in the road that might spring up.

"Mes amis," he calls out, standing up and raising his voice in the attempt to speak over the murmuring of the crowd, "please, stay calm and stay where you are! It is an old building, and we are overtaxing its wiring. We will get the lighting settled soon, do not worry!"

Joscelin

[dredefulchilde]

Early evening

Joscelin wears a simple and yet elegant suit of fine green wool and gilt embroidery to the evening's festivities, and it oddly suits his pallor and slight frame far better than the modern clothing he's accustomed to wearing. For once, he wears his sire's daylight ring openly on his right hand instead of on a chain under his shirt. This is a celebration of vampire strength in London, so he might as well do the thing properly.

He's promised Jean-Claude he'll be on his best behavior tonight, and he intends to keep that promise. He can be found throughout the night positioned fairly close to the bar, a glass of wine in one small hand, but he will do his best to mingle and not cause trouble. Even if it pains him at times to interact with the rest of the idiots in the nest.

Late evening

As soon as the lights go out, Joss is ready. He'd slipped a wooden stake into the party, under his clothes, and it's in his hand within seconds. Anyone who wants to ruin Jean-Claude's party will have to go through him first.

[dredefulchilde]

Early Evening

"You clean up well. Someone might even mistake you for a gentleman, if they squint." Joscelin raises his glass at the host and smiles. "Impressive party, old friend. Do you think this will get you enough votes to win the election?"

[falsify]

BALLROOM - MOST OF THE NIGHT

Who's here and looking gorgeous in his late-regency garb? Honestly he doesn't miss the tight trousers (or the hair) but he looks good so he'll live with it. He also respects the rules and volunteers his gun at the door, but with his history he's sure as hell not coming without it.

Honestly, he's not feeling that sociable. Some current goings on already have him in a pretty shitty mood, and this is a vampire party. Mostly he's just here to observe, see who Jean-Claude invited and who's a sycophant and all that. He spends most of the evening on the fringes of the party, permanently attached to a drink of some kind, and he stays well away from the blood table.

But he looks very good.

LATE EVENING

Well look at this.

Maybe he should be a little worried, but Eames is fascinated by this drama. He takes the darkness as an opportunity to go upstairs to get a view from the balcony, leaning on the banister to watch things unfold with a glass of wine.

How exciting.

[longterm]

Ballroom

Cesare had half a mind to dress in his old clerical garb for Jean-Claude's party, cross and all, as a demonstration of his devotion to doing good. After all, if he can love God so much that he becomes a priest, or a cardinal even, then surely he can take care of a city?

But it's too risky, even for a man like Cesare. He doesn't want people looking too deeply into his past and such an attire would invite them to do so. So instead, he settles on something more modern, though still with a virtuous edge. It's not what he would have worn at the time, but it works for him for now. Perhaps the time has come for Cesare to shift out of his normal black attire and into something more virginal? Anything if it will help him with voters.

He's mostly staying at the sides of the room, by the drinks, schmoozing with everyone. After all, it's his goal here to get along with people and make them like him. Anyone who Jean-Claude has invited is good enough for Cesare too. Is it a bit shady of him to attempt to poach guests like this? Most definitely. But all is fair in love and politics. At least, that's his excuse.

Lights out drama. For Nancy

When the lights go out, Cesare takes this as a perfect opportunity to escape Lydia and track down Nancy. He had seen her earlier and had made a note. At the time, though, he hadn't realised how much he would need her help. He moves up behind Nancy in the dark, taking a hefty swig of his wine.

"I need you to call off your girl," he says quite firmly. Having some whore cling to him is not helping his campaign.

Asher (NPC)

[baisant]

Asher stalks through the crowd like a tiger in a cage, carefully sizing up his victims for the hunt. He is dressed head to toe in his finest white and gold silk suit, and everything from the shine on the buckles of his shoes to his hair, like spun gold as it spills about his shoulders, is perfection. Even the mask he wears is second to none. He glitters among the party-goers, and it is a surprise that Jean-Claude does not recognize him right from the start. It would serve him right if he did. But Jean-Claude is otherwise preoccupied. And so Asher stalks the party and sews his seeds of doubt among the guests, before the main event as it were.

The mask covers the whole of his face, so no one may see his scars. Unfortunately it means that he is not at liberty to sample any of the refreshments either. It is no matter. He establishes himself, a bright flame lurking in the dark corners of the room, and waits for them to come to him. They always did. Drawn to his beauty, like a moth towards the flame. So long as they cannot see his face, they will come.

[morevacant]

Of course Lydia's here. As if she'd miss a party, and a posh one at that. No, this is the place to be seen tonight, and she is determined to make an entrance and a good impression. Her dress is inspired by the regency period - at first glance, she seems perfectly pure in it, innocent even. But the low cut of the dress, and it's sheerness soon put a stop to that notion. And Lydia loves it.

She spots Cesare as soon as she arrives, and sidles up to him.
"My handsome man!" She leans in to him. "You look so very dapper, you know?' She glances down at her own dress. "Do you like it? I wore it just for you." She smiles coyly.

[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."

Nancy

[stauncherhearted]

Early Evening

When Nancy had first received Jean-Claude's invitation, she'd actually stood there admiring the beautiful calligraphy and fancy paper for a good while until Cooper had to remind her that letters are supposed to be read. The contents of the letter itself brought her just as much excitement as the outside, and with a few trips around London to find the perfect costume, Nancy and Cooper were arriving arm-in-arm.

Having taken her cues from Cooper's decision to dress for the 20s, Nancy chose to set her red hair off with red accessories to match her hair and lips, standing out against the pale beading of her dress.

Most of the night, she can be found with a glass of gin in one hand, and some sort of food in the other. If you were to look inside her purse, there'd be scads of food ready to be smuggled out. Once a thief, always a thief. Or perhaps it was once a starving orphan, always a starving orphan. Either way, old habits died hard.

Evie

[freelife]

Early Evening

Evie would not be wearing a dress. No one should ever her expect her to wear one, and they should just get used to it. She hadn't worn them even when she was alive, unless she absolutely had to. Now, she found she enjoyed the more open-minded nature of fashion.

Which was why Evie was here in what could only be described as 80s Goth. Her makeup was heavy, her lipstick dark. The Assassin tattoo on her left tricep was perfectly visible, though hard to see as she wore her long dark hair down, her hair down to her waist. One of the many reasons she usually chose to keep it up. The result is striking, to say the least.

Making it even better is the glass of wine that Evie nurses this evening. Most of the time, she can be found with her girlfriend, laughing, trying to find excuses to put her hand on her arm.


Late Evening

The lights were out and Evie was already prepared. She didn't need any sort of weapons, if need-be. Her first thought is clear: she should find Jean-Claude and find out if something was amiss. She didn't doubt his security, but she didn't doubt that they made a lovely target- most of Islington Nest in one place. Excuse her, she's going to find out whodunnit.

Late Evening

[freelife]

When the lights go out, the first thing Evie does is find Jean-Claude. She stands near to him, putting her hand on his arm to let him know that she was there. She keeps her voice down: "should we have any reason to suspect foul play?"

[stauncherhearted]

Cesare manages to catch her off guard and she spins around, gin sloshing in her martini glass.

"My girl?" She didn't have any girls. "Lydia's her own person." Oh, yes, she'd found out who Lydia's Mystery Boyfriend was. Even though Nancy had tried to hint that, y'know... Maybe you weren't actually together?

But why should anyone take relationship advice from a whore?

[stauncherhearted]

Mid Evening

"This party is amazing!" Nancy absolutely gushes, as she moves towards Jean-Claude. The distrust and dislike she'd had of him had all but waned in the recent months, even coming to think of his fondly. He'd been nothing but kind to her, reaching out to her.

They understood each other. And few people did.

"I want to get your invitation framed, Cooper was teasing me."

[stauncherhearted]

Early Evening

Nancy knows better than comment that Joss looks uncannily like a Hobbit in his get-up. Honestly, she likes the green and the embroidery. A handsome little fellows, she supposes, but has to remind herself just how old he actually is as she spots him at the bar.

On her own mission to get another martini, she slides up next to him.

"Joss, hullo." She was going to be polite. He had been cruel, but he still to her was that little boy she'd found in the alley.

[stauncherhearted]

Ballroom

"Eames!" There's a squeal of joy as Nancy, martini in hand, abandons whomever she's talking to, and going to approach her friend. She knows better than to hug him, so instead she'll just gesture madly at him, because god damn. "Look at you- oh my goodness, what is in your hair?" Gel, she assumed.

[dredefulchilde]

The mask is hardly inconspicuous.

Costume balls are one thing--vampires are quite attached to their history and most of the garments on display tonight are likely originals--but masks just complicate things. Particularly full-face ones. How good can the security possibly be if just anyone can traipse right in, provided they look suitably dressed? Jean-Claude's just inviting trouble.

Joscelin finds himself tracking the tall stranger, watching as he circles the room. He hasn't even moved his mask to eat or drink, which is fairly suspect behavior at a party. Joss has a bad feeling about the whole thing, and it's not going away.

Oh, to hell with it.

"Excuse me, sir. I don't believe we've been introduced...?"

[dredefulchilde]

"Nancy." Curt, but polite. He moves aside to give her better access to the bartender.

"You look well. Cooper's around here somewhere too, I take it?"

[stauncherhearted]

Only a little taller than Joss, Nancy can use all the closeness to the bar she can get. Joss gets a nod in thanks.

"Thank you- he is, yeah." She smiles at the very though of him, only stopping when she orders her next martini. "How've you been? You look very handsome. What time period is it from?" She'd never gone to a day of school in her life, so the finer details of period costumes escape her.

[dredefulchilde]

Joscelin looks down at his suit, almost as if he'd forgotten he's wearing it. "1780 or thereabouts," he hazards. "I couldn't believe I still had it." Vampires are natural hoarders. One tends to acquire lots of stuff over the centuries. Quite a lot of his old clothes hadn't survived the Blitz, but apparently Providence has a thing for green wool.

"You'll be voting Jean-Claude in the election, of course?"

[stauncherhearted]

"You're kidding!" But of course he wasn't. "I love it, absolutely. It's astonishing, I'm sure most of these costumes are actually the real thing." She'd left it to Cooper to track down her dress for the evening, and he'd done extremely well.

"I'm not Daybreak," she says simply. "I don't get a vote- but if I could, yes, he'd have my vote. Nothing against Cesare- he's a dear friend, but I trust Jean-Claude politically a lot more." Not to mention the feud between Cesare and Cooper and how she had a tendency to get in the middle of it. It would not be helpful to get them going at it on the Night Council, too.

[longterm]

Cesare had texted Lydia once. He had done so because, quite frankly, he had had a pretty good time with her that night, even though it had been weird as hell. It was different and, at his ripe old age, that's quite a rare thing to come across. He didn't text her again, though, when he received a barrage of texts in response. Contrary to popular belief, Cesare does try to avoid the crazy ones. Or at least the clingy ones.

Besides, now Cesare is running for president under the image of integrity and virtue. Having some whore following him around isn't exactly great for publicity.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, turning to her in surprise, trying to sound polite but not exactly managing it. He's still aware that he needs her vote in the upcoming election. She is a witch, after all.

He looks down to her dress. "....Do you know it's see-through?"

[longterm]

Cesare rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated, disbelieving sigh.

"Either way, I need you to get her to stop it. It's beginning to harm my campaign." And if there's one thing Cesare prioritises above all else, it's his quest for power.

"Have a talk with her, please. Tell her that this isn't how it's done. Teach her some damn discretion." At least Nancy hadn't paraded herself around him in see-through dresses most of the time, at least not until Cesare asked her to.

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy purses her lips together tightly. "Cesare- what in god's name possessed you to sleep with her, anyway? I know you have a thing for gingers, and Lydia's lovely but she's... not your type." Her tone, by the end of it, is light.

And that's when she puts it together. The money for the dress. The card. Cesare.

"Did you hire her? Cesare! She isn't a sex worker! She's a bloody student!" She puts her hands on her hips, giving him in the darkness the most angry mother face. Usually it made children tremble.

[falsify]

Eames had been planning to continue his life of not interacting in Cesare in any way, shape, or form — it's a way of life that really works for him — but then he saw that child clinging to him, the same one who's now a drunk mess, and it's impossible to pass up the chance to needle the virtuous presidential candidate about it.

"Babysitting tonight?" Eames smiles cordially, a glass of wine in his hand, "I don't see your date around, is it naptime?"