Crime and Questioning

[melancolique]

It's been a while since Eponine's seen Cesare, but not much has really changed for her. She looks as rough as ever: her olive pallor has yellowed somewhat, and there are bruises on her skin and she has a busted lip from where she has been battered at some point. Dark circles beneath her eyes, sunken cheeks indicate her continued use of fae blood. And the scowl on her face should indicate to Cesare that she knows exactly why she has been ordered to his offices.


Inside, Eponine's scared. She's broken one of the most strict of all vampire laws, to not kill. The last time she had even tried, Joss had slammed her against the wall and held a stake to her throat. It had burned so much - the pain had been as intense as Montparnasse had ever tried. If that had come from Joss for an attempt, what would she receive from the president for actual murder?


On the outside, though, Eponine feigned indifference. She had no intention of letting Cesare know she was worried. She hammered on the door, and then kicked it when she was left waiting.


"You want me or not, Monsieur? I have not all night. There are things I have to do too, you know?"

Comments

[longterm]

Cesare has no time for Eponine's fanfare and storytelling.

"You're being macabre," he says with an eye roll. "I don't care for it. I suggest you stop, or it's going to make things a lot harder for you." It's tiring and frustrating, and when he gets frustrated it's pretty bad for everyone involved.

"You will learn how to behave or I will send you back to wherever you came from, or worse. Is that clear?"

[melancolique]

Eponine cackles again. "Will you, Sir? And have the French covens to deal with? Sir, you think you are all powerful, but no. They are worse than you can imagine, and you kill me, Sir, and they will come. It will be war. Imagine, over me!" She seems almost gleeful about the idea, and indeed she is. Imagine being so important! She smiles, and it's hard now. "My Master says to London, and to London I must stay. But Sir..." She pushes her hair back from her face and lowers her voice, a cheap imitation of seduction. "There are deals I can make you. Fae blood for good behaviour. A vial a day. What do you say?"

[longterm]

"Oh, you mean Claquesous?" Cesare responds casually. "Or Montparnasse?" He knows them, trying to make a point. Of course he does. It's his job to keep a tab on all the movers and shakers in the area and that includes France.

"And that's not how it works. How about you behave yourself, manage to survive the next couple of weeks, and I'll consider rewards?" If there's one thing he's learned over the years it's not to give into addicts so easily when there's bargaining to be done.

[melancolique]

Eponine's mouth tightens into a straight line as she's confronted with the names of the Patron Minette. Her eyes narrow and she glares at Cesare.
"I told you. 'Parnasse is my sire." So she is important. So there.

She chews on her lips. There's not a chance in hell she's promising anything.
"Can I go now, Sir?" The 'sir' is definitely forced.