undergrounds | September Open & Closed

Out On The - Open To All

Natasha is out. It's been a while. She's been hitting the bars less since she started drinking blood again on the sly; she didn't need the poor substitute as much, and she didn't want the temptation that came with it.

She had to be careful with this. She didn't want to be who she was before, when she was feeding on humans. So far, she thinks she's doing okay.

So out tonight, it's because she really does want the drink. She also wants to be around people, to watch them, maybe to chat with them. She can be found out, sitting at the bar or at a table that can be seen, not hiding away in the corner, nursing a gin and tonic or maybe a whiskey sour.

If she sees someone she knows, she's quick to invite them to join her. "One on me?" she offers. "I could use some company."

Home Is Where - Closed to Evie

It's not a surprise when Natasha comes by. She texted on her way over, showing up with takeout Thai food and a bottle of red wine. It's normal. They do this so often—food, some drinks, maybe a movie, and time together on the couch.

The difference, this time, is that after dinner and before putting on a horror flick about a family moving into a haunted house, Natasha bows her head a little and licks her lips, a thoughtful, expression. She doesn't have many tells, and she hides them well when she wants to, ut Evie would know her well enough by now to know there's something on her mind.

It may still be a surprise when she says, "I was thinking, we should talk about that thing you brought up at the tournament."

Wildcard

Hit me up with something else, or let me know if you want me to write another starter.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Natasha and Evie had been friends for over a year at this point. Furthermore, they'd been dating since February, and Evie knew people. Evie knew her girlfriend. So when Natasha pauses at the menu screen and licks her lips, Evie knows something's on her mind.

Honestly, she's about to ask what's wrong when Natasha speaks instead.

Shit.

Evie laughs nervously. "And here I was hoping you'd forgotten it- listen, it's alright if you don't want to move in. I understand, we don't have to talk about it."

"I want to talk about it." Her expression is serious, bows rising slightly. "I brought it up because I wanted to talk about it. I want to know how you feel about it."

A pause, then glancing away. "Unless you'd rather not talk about it? If it was a heat of the moment thing, I get that."

She raises her eyebrows. "Oh. Okay. Then- no. I stand by what I asked. But I understand if that's moving too fast- my ex and I lived together for some time before we even got together- and I don't really know how these things are done nowadays." She was so incredibly Victorian.

"I won't be mad if you say no."

"I'm not saying no. I'm just... not saying yes yet, either." She snorts. The implication she knows how things are done these days is rather laughable. Especially among their kind, if she's not part of the nest herself. "It does seem fast, but that might not be a bad thing. Sometimes it's easy not to do much, knowing we have plenty of time to get around to it."

Evie purses her lips slightly, taking what Natasha has to say into account. "It's true." They had eternity. Which helped.

But it also put the idea of time into their relationship for the first time.

Still, she remains quiet, angling herself toward Natasha.

It takes Natasha another moment to sort through her thoughts, her emotions even more confused. She can't avoid the feeling that she's faking this, that this kind of relationship is far too normal for her. Maybe too normal for any vampire, though others seemed to manage it.

"The last time I really lived with someone, it was my maker. I guess I'm not sure how we do this either," she admits softly. "Why do you even want to live with me?"

Evie pushes a few strands of hair out of her eyes. She glances down, just for a moment, at her hands, resting on her lap.

"For me, it was Henry. Other than that, it's been my brother, but that hardly counts." Seriously. They didn't get along well half of the time. But this was a very different relationship.

"I want to live with you because I like being around you. I sleep better when you're with me." She raises her eyes to look up at her and smile softly.

That answer takes her by surprise, a smile touching her lips. That warms her in a way she didn't expect; it's not something she expected anyone to say about her.

"That's a pretty good reason."

"I certainly hope so; considering we're both two incredibly capable assassins." lowercase a, this time.

"I don't know- I like having you around. It makes this place more... homey, I guess. Which is never something I'd ever want. I'm not used to staying put, and I'm sure you're not, either. But.. I like waking up next to you in the morning. Quite a lot."

"Less than you might think." Until she left the Moscow nest, Natasha's movements had been controlled tightly. She did move, she worked in different places, but in the end, she always returned to their safe houses, their control.

Since she left has been the first time since she was a child she's actually had her freedom, and the ability to come and go as she pleases.

"I like being with you too, though. I'm not... I'm not entirely against the idea, you know."

Imogen's used to men offering to buy her drinks, but not beautiful women. Beautiful women who have a strange kind of beauty, come to think of it. Imogen is instantly reminded of Cesare Borgia, and she's not entirely sure why.

Still, she'll never turn down a free drink.

"Thanks." Turning to the man at the bar, she says, "I'll have a rum and Coke, please."

Natasha tips her head, nodding to the bartender to make it clear the girl's drink is on her tab. Then she pats the stool next to her. "That's the trade off," she says, her tone a little teasing. "The drink for company."

Then she leans back slightly, considering. If this was a bad idea it's too late to back out gracefully now. "I think I've seen you on campus, but we haven't met face to face. I'm Natasha."

"Campus...?" For a moment her face registers confusion and then she puts two and two together. "Oh!"

Another person from Redbright. Imogen's only barely started there--her first day on the job was just a couple of days ago and it's mostly been filling out paperwork before she can interact with students. There's also been a bit of testing, to see how far her powers go.

Powers. Really. She feels like she's in a comic book movie.

"Imogen," she replies, reaching out to shake Natasha's hand. "Imogen Reed." She smiles self-deprecatingly. "So...what type of freak are you?"

"Nice to meet you." She shakes the girls hand, her own firm and professional; only a little too cold, in a way that could be bad circulation but isn't. "And I'm not sure freak is the word I'd use."

How to break this bit of information is always a trick. Redbright is open to everyone, in theory, and Natasha is proof of the reality in action, but that doesn't mean she's always the best received. It's especially odd now that she's around the school less, her new responsibilities keeping her away.

"I'm with the Outreach Group. Or I was." Possibly deliberately misinterpreting the question.

Definitely deliberately.

Imogen notes the cold handshake but thinks nothing of it. There’s too much else on her mind for it to register. “Really? I what word would you use?” She keeps her tone light, teasing. “You don’t want to let your freak flag fly?”

The mention of an Outreach Group piques her interest. “What sort of work do you do in the Outreach Group? Do you scout out other not-freaks?”

"I suppose I don't. I'm a private person that way." Private and cautious. Even when she was still human she knew secrecy as a survival strategy. "But I wouldn't tell anyone else not to use that word if that's how they see themselves. Far be it from me to police anyone's identity."

She smiles a little, removing any doubt that she's serious about it. "But yes, I do. That and try to keep other interested parties looking the other way."

September Open & Closed

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