The Underground Mods (
undergroundmods) wrote in
undergrounds2017-10-09 09:30 pm
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Five Years Later...
A lot can change in five years. Students who were at Redbright have now started their careers. People have moved out, moved in, started a new life together or apart. Some move on from the city while others return to it. But while the lives of its residents continue to grow and change, London remains as it has ever been: a focal point for magical power.
A tentative peace
The last five years have not been without conflict, both internal and external. The vampires have played with the politics of in-fighting and backstabbing. The werewolves have overthrown their leader and chosen a new alpha. The witches have suffered one scandal after another. And the fae have quietly engineered a small change here, a personal revenge there, until finally with Redbright and Hillingdon acting as neutral parties a peace agreement was reached between Circle Daybreak, the Islington Nest and the East End Pack. Their territories are still beholden to the same rules (e.g. vampires are still forbidden to enter East End territory and vice versa) but they are no longer in open conflict. Small steps, perhaps, but positive ones.
A delicate balance
The year is 2022. The balance of power in the city is now evenly split between the East End Pack, Islington Nest and Circle Daybreak, thanks largely to the rise of the werewolves and the new President Laura Roslin who simultaneously holds the post of Werewolf Representative.
Samantha Okeke lost her position as Witch Representative following allegations of corruption, and has been replaced by Diphylleia "Dee" Absin, a much more co-operative member of the Night Council. While Samantha has retained her title of Mother of Witches, there are rumours that she lost her powers during a confrontation with a powerful fae. Circle Daybreak firmly denies all such speculation.
The connections between the Redbright Institute and the Hillingdon Clan have grown stronger since the former is now perceived to be a more neutral force rather than tied to the Night Council, although Hillingdon certainly still has the less clean-cut image of the two.
Meanwhile, the Seelie and Unseelie Court have largely withdrawn from public life in the mortal realm except in isolated corners, though they claim the right to go where they please throughout the city. Consequently, there are no barriers preventing travel between the realms, which seems for now to be an acceptable compromise.
And after all, politics is the art of compromise.
Looking ahead
All in all, the vampire and fae presence in the city has reduced as the vampires move around and the fae decide that if they're invited it can't be that great a party anyway. The number of witches has recovered thanks to an amnesty allowing those who were once members of Circle Midnight to return (though the faction itself has not reappeared).
The biggest change that has been noticed first by staff at the Redbright Institute however is the increasing number of meta humans, in particular young meta humans, being discovered in the city. Often these are humans with no knowledge of the supernatural developing their powers for the first time. The reason why has yet to be discovered...
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How quickly she'd faded from public eye.
Nancy nods, her hand on her stomach again. It didn't hurt to play along, and honestly she didn't have the strength to fight right now. She felt so tight that she might snap at any moment.
"I'm not afraid of him," she says softly. "I'm just heartbroken- I've been with him for over half of my life. I've got his initials on my ribs- and you've seen his tattoo." Bill had her name, the N and Y forming a heart on his chest. He wasn't shy about showing it off, either.
The tattoos, of course, paled in comparison to the other lasting marks Bill had left on Nancy's body and mind.
"He's not going to know what to do. He'll be so lost without me, Eames." There's almost a pleading in her voice as she looks up at Eames.
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It takes some self-restraint not to say 'good' at Nancy's worries about Bill, maybe he'll go get lost in a ditch. He sighs softly and shakes his head, "you don't need to worry about that anymore."
Eames tilts his head, frowning. It's not that he doesn't understand how deeply Nancy loves him, how much she cares, he just doesn't have the patience for her worrying about a man who brutalised her for nearly 15 years. And in a way it's a credit to their friendship that he doesn't bother faking it.
"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. He's not your responsibility anymore."
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"I know. But I'm going to worry." It's what she did, they all knew that by now. "I want him to be happy. I do. I really, really do." He deserved happiness. But so did Nancy, right? Her baby, certainly.
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Eames leans back in his seat, looking back out the window, "you can want the best for him, but it's up to him to find it."
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"I hope- I really, really hope he does."
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Anyway, Eames doesn't have much else to say to that. He just sighs softly and watches for the Angelo to come into view, electing not to comment on the happiness Bill doesn't deserve.
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When they pull up at the curb in front of the lavish hotel, Nancy doesn't hurry to leave. While the attendants open the car doors and offer to take Ms. Bellrose's things (they remembered her here), Nancy looks over at Eames, her brow creased.
"What's next? After this?"
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He's not bothered though, he looks back at Nancy and offers her a smile before he steps out of the car.
"Lunch, I think."
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Maybe she could even get herself some booze- oh that's right. Her flask was in her purse.
Brilliant.
"That'd be great. Room service? I don't want to be in public."
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They probably look quite a pair as they walk in, Nancy tired and, well. Not dressed her best, that's for sure, and Eames still in his tracksuit from this morning, but Eames holds himself like he could be wearing a bespoke suit straight from Milan as he offers Nancy an arm. A light glamour, to make Nancy look a little healthier, but otherwise fuck it.
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She can feel the glamour pass over her, and she leans her head against Eames' arm as they walk to the elevator. "Thank you," she whispers, "I don't think i could do it right now, state I'm in." Magic took energy, and Nancy had none to spare today.
"But do I really look that awful?"
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Besides, it takes almost no energy for Eames anyway.
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The trip to the elevator and up to the suites is quick and easy, and it's not too long before they're opening the door to her suite.
There is, of course, a minibar, a large bathroom, really everything she needs to hide out in the lap of luxury. She'll be well-cared for here, she always was. Gingerly, she pulls off her coat for the first time since she put it on, bruises visible now on her arms.
"Lunch?"
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He grimaces at the bruises, but his gaze doesn't linger. He'll just treat them like the bites from when she used to do blood work, just pretend they're not there. Eames drops his jacket on the bed and goes straight to the minibar; he'd love a beer right about now, but since he's not allowing someone to drink while he's around, it only seems fair not to partake, so he goes for a can of lemonade instead.
"Lunch," he agrees, "where's the menu?"
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The look Eames gives, that tiny little grimace, she's seen it before.
The minibar catches her attention and her eyes light up, just for a moment, at the sight of all the tiny bottles. She'd have them finished by morning, of that there was no doubt. She hopes maybe he'll take a beer and give her a good excuse to go to her flask (not like today isn't a good enough excuse as-is) but he grabs a lemonade. Damn it.
"Sparkling water, please" she tells him, because that will taste great with the gin she has in her flask. While he does that, she gets up and manually takes the large black binder from the desk. She flips through it for a few moments before handing it to Eames.
"There's a spa package- I was thinking maybe that'd be good? Keep me distracted?" Get a nice massage, help her relax.
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"Good idea," he flips through the binder when Nancy hands it to him, eyeing the options with, well. Mild disinterest, which is an odd feeling for him when it comes to food. It all looks really good, but he just can't make himself have an appetite. "You could probably use some professional pampering, help you relax a little."
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It's happened. We can all blame Cooper and Cesare for that one.
She'll go ahead and order the one that does everything- nails, toes, hair. Oh gosh, it'd be amazing to have someone shampoo and play with her hair. Massages as well. Hopefully she wouldn't even think about Bill once. Though that depended all on how drunk she got.
"We don't need to eat, if you don't want to. I can order something later." They could sit and just... make a plan, maybe.
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It might be a drop in the ocean to someone so wealthy, but it's not going to stop Eames buying expensive food he probably won't even eat.
It's the little things, you know?
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"He is. Why d'you think I thought about a spa treatment?" Cesare was old, and he had more money than god, it seemed. So many immortals did, but that's what happened when you had nothing but time on your hands.
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"Deluxe package, I hope."
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"Of course- like I'd settle for anything less from Cesare."
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"Good," he says, approving, "you deserve it."
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"Keep doing that," she tells him. "It feels really nice." Something a father would do for a daughter.