undergrounds | Guardian Initiation: August 2017 (For Natasha, Cesare and Cooper)

Today will see the Night Council accept the first new vampire Guardian since last year's purge. The new initiates make their way to the Night Council headquarters in Westminster, where they are directed to a large study to wait nervously for their turn to stand before the Council. There's a large, empty fireplace, a live falcon perched in an iron cage by the mantelpiece, a bookcase of old and dusty tomes (mostly supernatural history and biographies) and several overstuffed leather armchairs. The bay window affords a view over Whitehall.

The falcon watches with beady eyes. You get the sense it's watching you.

The initiates are called one by one. A woman wearing glasses pops her head into the study every few minutes to collect the next one. She'll take you to a large dimly lit chamber, usher you in, then leave, closing the door behind you.

At first glance, you'd be forgiven for thinking that you're surrounded by people. The chamber is circular and around the walls there are standing figures, men and women, life-size. They're statues in various poses, some with their hands in front of their faces as if trying to protect themselves. The expressions carved into their faces are mostly grimaces and many of them are wide-eyed, perhaps shocked or fearful.

But the statues are just decoration. There are real people here: the Council members, sitting in front of you. They're arranged in a rough semi circle around a table, with the President Cesare Borgia in the centre. His seat is raised above the others, almost a throne, just the way he likes it. He's directly ahead of you.

Also directly ahead of you, between you and the Council members, is a small square table upon which sits a thick sheaf of paper and a golden pen. Both have a magical aura. The paper is high quality, printed on in black ink and bears the seal of the Night Council. It runs to twelve pages.

Cesare smiles at you, the way a person does when you have proven yourself to be a good friend, or at least a useful one.

"Good evening. Shall we get started?" He stands up and the rest of the Night Council does the same. He reaches out, indicating for you to place your hand on the contract on the table.

"Repeat my words for me, would you? 'I stand here before the Night Council to swear an oath. I am a Guardian of the Night Council. From this moment on, I pledge my allegiance to the Night Council, in life and in death eternal. I swear to devote myself to the Night Council, to the protection of its members, and to my duties as a Guardian. I swear this by everything I hold sacred and dear in the world.' Now sign here for me." He points.

As you step forward, John Cooper, the Vampire Representative on the end of the row, stands up. He comes over to stand and watch as the document is signed, making sure that everything is in order. When you're done, he takes the document and strides back to his seat while the other Council members sit down.

"Well done," Cesare says with a smile. "Good choice. But just so you know, I must tell you something. The contract you just signed is magically binding. It will hold you to your word. If you do not abide by the rules of contract, you will turn to stone." There's a moment's pause. You look again at the statues around you. Were they...? Cesare doesn't offer any explanation or any added words to soften the blow. You're an adult. You shouldn't make oaths that you don't intend to keep.

"And you can't tell anyone. That's in the contract too. You can read it in your spare time."

The eyes of the Council members are staring down at you, every one of them serious, stern. Your secret will not leave this room, any more than the stone statues can wake up and walk themselves out of here.

Finally, Cesare smiles at you, his tone lighter, more playful. "Training starts tomorrow. Welcome to the family."

Best of luck, newbie. You've been officially initiated.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When Natasha learned of her nomination, she strongly considered turning it down. Politely, but it was a step and a commitment and she didn't commit lightly. She's not innocent to the Night Council's agenda. She doesn't imagine they're pure. It was only after a great deal of consideration that she went against her first instinct and agreed.

She didn't intend not to fulfill her oat.

That doesn't change the sense of betrayal that she hides behind a blank face when Cesare explains the conditions of her. Her expression tightens slightly, her eyes flatten, glassy.

"I'd like a copy of that contract."

"Of course," Cesare responds with a polite nod, expecting Natasha to be searching for loopholes already. There aren't any. At least, not in his view. He's looked. But there isn't any point in dwelling on it for now. After all, nothing can be done.

"Would you like a drink to celebrate? My treat." What with training not starting until tomorrow, they have some time.

"What are we drinking?" Natasha asks, not quite agreeing, but more or less surrendering to the invitation. There is a lot for her to process. And there's a lot she needs to learn. There's no time to react badly now.

"Anything you wish," he replies, genuinely meaning it. "We are celebrating you after all." If she wants scotch, he'll let her have that. If she wants something more sanguinous, he's more than happy to give her that too.

He leads her into a lounge with a roasting fire and starts to pull out glasses.

"You know, this is good for you. I doubt you realise it quite yet, but this will benefit you greatly."

"Is that so? How do you see it that way?" Because Natasha doesn't so much see it the same. She took the job because she thought she could do some good, that she was skilled enough and reasonable enough to bring something to the table.

And look what that got her.

"I'll have whatever you're having." A sideways way of accepting blood, if he's offering it.

He is. He sets about making them a sort of blood spritzer, grabbing a couple of chilled bottles and pouring them into the glasses. He's pleased that she's finally accepting blood now. It's another good change for her.

"You've chosen a side, and a noble one at that. Few people can attack you now while you're in this position. Who would even try to defame a guardian? Once you've proven yourself, every opportunity is open to you."

"Once I've proven myself," she repeats slowly. She smells the blood and tenses. She hasn't gone back to it exclusively, not by any means, but somehow after making that first compromise, it's easier to make more. "It might come as a surprise to you, but I didn't take the job as a political stepping stone."

Once he's done, Cesare holds out the glass to her so that he can press it into her palm.

"Then why did you take it?" Cesare doesn't think of Natasha as stupid. He knows that at least on some level she knew what she was signing up for. The question is why she did it in the first place.

Natasha takes the glass, sipping it. She does a good job of not showing her reaction, taking her time. If there's a little tension around her eyes and mouth, well, there are plenty of reasons that could be.

"Maybe I thought I'd be good for it."

Edited 2017-08-29 01:31 (UTC)

"I have no doubt you will be exceptional at it. But that is not a reason to do it. Not really." He swirls the drink in his glass and takes a casual sip.

"Does Ms. Fry know of your new oath?" The two of them together intrigue Cesare. He knows them both separately but cannot quite think of them as a couple. To be honest, he doesn't understand how that would work personality-wise. But then again, Cesare has always thought of Natasha as too closed off for any relationship at all.

She doesn't expect Cesare to understand it. She's not sure she understands it herself, least of all in the aftermath of the oath hanging over her head. It seems foolish, now, to imagine she'd thought she could do some good.

"I told her." Natasha drinks again, frowning slightly. "She was against it, honestly. I didn't listen to her."

Now there's something that Cesare isn't remotely surprised by. He smiles.

"What's the point of a girlfriend if not to ignore their advice? Girlfriend. Am I allowed to call it that?" To be honest, Cesare has a habit of losing track of what is considered appropriate terminology for each relationship. That's partly why he doesn't bother with them at all. That and he's still a bit heartbroken from his last girlfriend.

"It's probably the most accurate thing you could call her." Natasha shakes her head a little. "And she knows better than to think I'll listen to her on everything. And the reverse."

"Still, it's nice to have someone reliable to come home to, I am sure. Sometimes I miss that. Though only sometimes." He flashes her a grin. He's telling the half truth. In reality, he only misses coming home to one specific person. But even after the years, those wounds are still raw and he would rather not prod at them tonight.

"I'm sure she'll come to understand."

"I think she understands as it is," Natasha tells him, her tone lofty—though for Evie rather than herself. "She just doesn't agree with it. There's a difference."

"I guess you agree to disagree then," Cesare responds with a bit of a sad shrug. Nevermind. If it can't be helped then it can't be helped. He leans in a little, tilting his head down and looking up at her.

"Personally, I find your actions impressive," he says quietly before smirking. "I certainly don't know if I could do it."

"That seems a little backhanded. If you wouldn't do it, I'm sure there's a reason." At this point, a very obvious reason. Not many people would rush into putting themselves on a leash like this. But she doesn't doubt he likes having Natasha in the position. Among other things, he likes having vampires in positions of power.

"Not intentionally, I assure you," he says honestly. "I just don't think myself necessarily capable. It is an insult to me, not to you, I promise." All that dedication: Cesare knows he is too fickle and untrusting to do something like that. He always thinks there's a trap behind it. This time he would have been right.

"I am glad you have done it though."

"We'll see f I'm glad about it, in the end." She sips her drink slowly, as much of an exercise in self-control as indifference. She has begun drinking again, in moderation, with reserve, and in some ways that makes the temptation all the more.

"Would you tell me why you're glad if I asked? Honestly?"

Guardian Initiation: August 2017 (For Natasha, Cesare and Cooper)

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