undergrounds | [open] Aces take your time

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[open] Aces take your time

You're at one of the nightclubs in South London; they're always best at this time of year in some people's estimation. Much livelier, better music, and the summer promotions are always better in July than in August. It's when the promoters are finally in the swing of things, but they still need to try that extra bit harder to entice people to come inside.

What might stand out to the keen observer, is a rather attractive woman sitting at the bar. Nothing so strange about a good looking woman hanging by herself in a club of course, but what might strike a person as odd is the wide berth people seem to be giving her. No one sat next to her, barely even anyone acknowledging her as she nurses her drink - glancing around the room on occasion.

But maybe there isn't anything strange to you about this, maybe this is just the person you're looking for. Following rumours or a tip about someone who'd be good business to get to know. Or maybe you just fancy talking to a pretty lady for a bit.

Have fun with that.

There's a cool breeze on the air on this fine afternoon. Eames wanders through Camden enjoying it; London's humidity come summer has never been something he's overly fond of, but today it's tolerable. Lots of people out and about, sitting by the lock or dodging flierers on the street, but he moves through the crowds easily. A certain fondness for the area that sometimes makes him think - he doesn't fuss too much with who owns what borough, but this is one he'd certainly like to see taken from the Council's control. Honestly there's a sad kind of irony in one of the last homes of punk in London being beholden to the "protection" of such an establishment.

Never the matter, he supposes. Not much to be done about it right this moment.

He has an ice cream in his hand because he's a grown-ass adult and he can do what he wants, and he's currently engaged in a heated debate with one of the vendors in the Stables Market. A man selling vintage furniture who thinks he can get away with jacking up his prices because he's in a popular area.

In his wild gesturing-- well. Either you dodge it or you don't, but either way all Eames has now is a hollow waffle cone sans ice cream and a laughing salesman. What a day.

Or, whatever! HMU on Plurk if you've got something particular in mind, or just. You know. Bug Eames.

Also brackets are cool, I can do either.

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Well isn't this an interesting turn of events, Circle Midnight's new coven leader come to say hello. Eames smiles, eyebrows raised in surprise at the greeting. It takes him a moment to answer, resisting the urge to look around for other witches or... Something. But nobody seems to be paying them any mind, just two girls talking at the bar, right?

"Gin and tonic," he answers softly, voice smooth and low, (he'd picked it to be attractive, you see,) "but you really don't have to."

"I'm glad to," Abby says with a smile. "Better than some creep seeing your glass empty and sending one over then figuring you owe him the time of day for him to make some awful play." Because that's never happened to her, no.

She shakes her head a little. "If you want some company for a friendly chat, I'm totally game. Or I can leave you alone with your drink."

He's trying to be nice here, it just doesn't come easy to him because he's a massive asshole, let's all just appreciate the effort, alright? Gosh. A man lost a tasty treat here today.

Anyway. Eames gives that some thought as he steps toward a bin, throwing his cone away with a tragic sigh. What a waste.

"One by the station," he points in the vague direction of Chalk Farm, "not too expensive, if I remember right."

Judging by her surprise, he'd guess the circumstances surrounding the spilled coffee weren't a trick of the eye. A ghost here in this store? He'd think it a surprise, but they do seem to love their antiques in his experience.

"Eames," he offers with a smile, pretending not to note the surprise, "see anything you like?" And he gestures to the lamp she'd been looking at before, alongside a few other things that are pretty, though probably useless if he could tell what they actually were.

"After you bought me a drink? I couldn't send you away." He takes his bag down off the stool next to him with an inviting smile, "Let's talk a while. Until a better song plays, at least."

"Pleasure to meet you, Eames." She looks back at the items when he gestures to them, her expression taking on a quality of wistfulness and a bit of sadness. "A bit. Just looking back at some things that, um, I know very well."

Seeing that the lamp happens to be hers, a wedding gift from a friend before it was pawned off for money. Not that she holds it against Francisco to sell it. But-- "As pretty as it is, the lamp was never valued at that much. I'm surprised he's trying to hawk it off for so much."

"Then let me start by introducing myself," Abby said with a grin as she sat down. "Abigail Widdowson."

Instead of thanking him and getting on her merry (if not slightly filthy) way, Kenzi saw a new opportunity to get into his pockets. She smiled a little absent-minded-like and her stance shifted into something a lot less confident than it was two seconds ago.

"Mind helping me find it? I'm not from around here."

Which he could clearly tell by her accent, but she felt the need to point it out. Some guys would feel like they should take care of a foreign girl, even if Canada wasn't exactly exotic.

Eames nods gently - not going to offer anything by way of apology since it'd be far too insincere, but he's taken this on board at least. So that's something.

"You alright otherwise?" He asks, gesturing to... Well, all of Nancy. She didn't look to be in pain at all, but her feelings on other matters may be covering that for the minute, he can't really tell.

The way Eames wrinkles his nose might well indicate just how much he feels like he should take care of this girl, even if he did wreck her clothes. But the way she shifts her presentation catches his interest - because she must be after something here, and he has to admit he's curious.

He sighs and gestures for her to come with as he starts to leave the market, "it's this way."

"Alice," he offers this character's name with another easy smile, pretending not to recognise the name at all. "-Cartier. Alice Cartier." He adds, almost as an afterthought.

There's a slight stand-offishness to Aliceb (she's a business persona, afterall,) but one must make the effort for someone who so kindly bought them a drink. "Do you do this sort of thing often?" He gestures to the drink, "it's very kind."

"I'm alive," she informed him pointedly. "I think that fae nicked me with his blade..." She turned as the adrenaline slowly started to leave her body, allowing the pain to actually set in. Shifting, she turned her attention to the outside of her left thigh.

Sure enough, she was bleeding.

"Shit."

"When I think to," she admits. "Happened to be at the bar and saw you were done." With a small chuckle, she adds, "And I've learned not to buy them for guys. You'd be surprised how many act like I've insulted them if I send a drink over."

It was totally fine for them to send a girl a drink. But being sent one? ...Sometimes that was worth the price of the drink by itself. Just getting to see their indignant reactions.

Kenzi brightens considerably at his agreement and looks like she's two seconds away from swooning and saying 'my hero'.

"Awesome, thanks!"

She doesn't sidle up to him immediately - that'd be too suspicious. Instead she walks in step with him, with about a foot of space between them.

"He gets his junk off Portobello. The guy you were arguing with. Reupholsters it to look old but valuable, does some varnish and boom - jacks up the price a good hundred more than he bought it for."

And while it's intended to earn some interest from him so he won't be paying attention to her slipping her hand in his pocket ... she forgets she just told him she isn't from around here.

Eames notes the slip (sloppy) but he doesn't comment on it just yet. He's still curious about what his new companion is up to - letting her know he's paying that much attention would change the game too much. She might even call it quits.

Instead he snorts absently at her comment, "must make a killing off rich people who don't know any better."

"Welcome to Camden," Eames says with a smile, gesturing broadly to all of the overpriced, second-hand furniture. At least the guy running the place has decent enough taste to get away with charging so much for all this stuff. "He makes a fortune off people with more money than sense."

That makes him laugh softly, "they must feel like their masculinity's come under fire."

Well isn't that something. Eames tilts his head to look at it, but he won't be able to tell if it's serious or not until it's cleaned up. He stands with a sigh and puts a hand on Nancy's shoulder, trying to direct her to sit and take some weight off her leg.

"I don't suppose you keep a first aid kit under the sink, do you?"

"I just wish it wasn't with our lamp," she remarks dryly. She looks more upset at the idea of people being swindled of their money then her lamp being hawked off. Really, she's fine seeing it there out of reach.

At this point what other use does it have besides it being one of important sentimental value to her?

Er. Anyways-- "I take it that you're not one of those people? Hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine or see if there's anything really worth your pounds?"

"Yeah, it's in the cabinet under the sink in my bathroom," she said vaguely gesturing towards her own bedroom.

"Usually I can just heal this sort of thing right up with magic." Or, at least, in case of some wounds, cover it up. She let Eames push her to sitting, and she propped her leg up on the coffee table, slowly working now that she could breathe on pulling off her heels so that, aside from her skirt, her legs were bare.

"You don't think it looks bad, do you?"

"Which is what makes it fun," Abby admits, grinning a little. "Really, if a guy's been obviously eyeing me and being a creep about it? I do it just to get him off my back."

"Won't be able to tell until it's cleaned up." He grins at her as he glances in the direction she pointed, "but if you've a spell for this kind of thing, then by all means."

He leaves and comes back with the box a moment later, and crouches on the floor so he can get a good look at her thigh. Carefully, he pushes her skirt up a little to see how much actual wound she's got going on here before he sets to the task of cleaning off all the blood. It'll probably hurt, but Eames doesn't bother warning her about it. He's just staying focused on the task at hand.

"Well, we'll see how it looks," she says.

When Eames is back, she shifts to allow him better access to the cut part of her leg. He's extremely gentle, and it's not as odd as she thinks it should be. She's had plenty of men before who've been sweet and gentle with her. Some who really just want to talk or have someone to go out to dinner with. But those were few and far between with the level of clients she worked with. She was far, far more likely to get the quick slap-dash up-against-the-wall men.

She sucks in air hard, trying not to wince away as he cleans. "ow- that bloody hurts."

"It will do." He pauses briefly to smile at her as he finishes up, putting the bloody wipes aside as he inspects her a little more closely. Eames has a light touch, very careful not to aggravate the wound any. If Nancy's looking to let it heal the normal way, then it'd probably be for the best if he doesn't start poking and prodding at her, huh.

"Good news, it doesn't look serious." His chirpy tone of voice a little at odds with the way he's frowning intently at it, "probably gonna leave a nasty scar though."

She groaned, twisting to get a better look at it. "Great". Now, light scrapes, cuts, that she could take care of. But anything that was deep enough to scar, she could only really cover up. Case in point: bite-marks.

"There should be super-glue in there." Quick and easy way to close the wound. Seriously. Doctors did it.

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[open] Aces take your time

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