Dream a Little Dream of Me - Locked to Cesare (Late September)

[greenevoices]

Imogen's been offered a job, and she thinks she'll take it. Not that she particularly wants to spend her days teaching magical teenagers how to sightread--as someone who's only barely in her twenties herself, she thinks that's far below her--but because the pay is decent and, combined with her weekly performances at the Angelo, it means she might even be able to move out of her aunt and uncle's house. Or at least start paying rent.

Two days after her meeting with Sylvia Redbright, Imogen is back under the spotlight at the Angelo. She's "gifted," whatever that means. Something about her voice is magical. It should be earth-shattering news, but somehow it makes sense as much as anything in a world that is suddenly peopled by witches and vampires in addition to regular humans makes sense. It seems right.

Halfway through her set, another person walks into the lounge. Imogen is too much of a professional to register her surprise, but it's actually the first time that Cesare Borgia, her mysterious employer and benefactor, has come to see her sing. She smiles to herself. Gifted, huh?

Between songs, she whispers something in the ear of the pianist, and he signals to the rest of the band. They're going to change things up a bit.

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[longterm]

"You will never be a vampire," Cesare clarifies. "It's physically impossible. And as I've explained, I don't want you on the side." As tempting as she is, and boy is she, he has no interest in being a fae blood addict again.

"I want you in Islington because you could be helpful politically, a branch between factions. It's in my interest to show people that I'm amicable with other communities."

[greenevoices]

“‘S too bad, really, because despite being meth I’m a very fun side piece to have,” Imogen replies, smirking. Oh, she’s not going to let him forget that comment. She’s not surprised that she can’t be a vampire. Her life has become one giant sideshow in the last two weeks, so why not? Maybe this shitty urban fantasy novel she’s found herself in has rules after all.

“And why do you care about politics? Are you the head of the vampire club?”

[longterm]

Oh no. What an absolute perfect question for Cesare to answer. The smirk that curls on to his lips looks incredibly smug.

"I'm head of everyone's club. I'm president of the entire Night Council. That means vampires, metahumans and even fae like you. So it helps if I can show I can get along with them." He conveniently misses out the fact that he's been trying to present an image of a polite man of virtue.

[greenevoices]

Imogen gives him a flat look. “So I’d be a prop, is what you’re saying. The posterchild for getting along with vampires.”

[longterm]

Is Imogen really reacting so negatively to the idea of being a prop when she's trying to be a lounge singer who slept with her boss? Cesare thinks if anything this is a promotion.

"Or a representative. A bridge between factions."

[greenevoices]

Imogen sniffs, somewhat mollified. “That’s better. Now...”

She takes a deep breath.

“...what are we going to do about the fact that you shut me up in a room for a week, Mr. President of the Night Council?”

[longterm]

Cesare can't help but laugh. She's trying and she has to respect that but she's definitely not very good at it.

"Careful, Imogen. You're still in here. I would suggest trying to threaten me once you're out instead." Perhaps she doesn't realise quite who she's dealing with.

[greenevoices]

Imogen flushes slightly at Cesare’s comment, but gamely continues on. “You are going to let me out, though, and once I’ve joined—Islington, wasn’t it? Once I’ve joined Islington you will want to keep this under wraps. Won’t you?”

[longterm]

"If I let you out," Cesare responds with a smile, making sure to stress that first word so that her situation is clear. He's killed many many people throughout the years, to the point that it's more nuisance by now than anything. But he's still open to it if she pushes him.

[greenevoices]

“...You aren’t going to kill me, though, are you? Does me being stuck in this room do anything for your political position? And I can help you, you know, with the singing. I mean, I had you falling all over yourself, didn’t I?”

Imogen is treading on thin ice but she doesn’t have much left to lose at this point.

[longterm]

"I could. I never said I wouldn't..." Cesare responds frankly. All options are on the table for him at the moment. If she wants to pretend to be powerful here and cross teamwork off the list then that just edges her more towards him draining her and giving the blood to his addict pals.

"I'm looking for someone who will be helpful, not try to threaten me."

[greenevoices]

The front is gone.

Imogen is back to being small and scared. Quiet. Demure. Anything to save her life.

“I can be helpful.” Her eyes brim, rather prettily, with tears. “Please. I want to go home.”

[longterm]

That's more like it. He's pleased at the progress but he doesn't give that away on his face.

"Then prove that you can be," he says firmly. Though to be honest he's a bit confused as to why she's desperate to go home. As far as he thought, she didn't really have one.