venom sweet as sugar [open]

[veratrum]

A. The Curious Incident of the Vampire in the Nighttime

While he's only been in London for a very short time, Liam's more than willing to get involved in the local nightlife. And of course, he has the face and the looks to get into any nightclub he pleases, with as little as a bright smile and a wink. He doesn't stick to Islington territory, either--Liam's checking out clubs in any district he pleases, even being so bold as to look into clubs in Hillingdon and the werewolve's territories, which is where he is now, watching the people dancing from the bar with an intense look of amusement...and not a little bit of hunger.


B. We don't Want no Education

Of course, when Liam's not out clubbing, he goes poking around the colleges and libraries in Islington proper. He doesn't have a library card, of course, but he seems to come and go with books as he pleases anyway...the poor librarian's been mindwiped so many times this week she's starting to get a little batty, but the books are always returned in perfect condition, save some of the books particularly Irish and Gaelic folklore, that have had a great deal of complaints and corrections made in the margins.

The book vandal himself can be caught in the early evenings, checking his phone for a list of books to take out that night.


C. Wildcard!
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Comments

B

[mensrea]

While Stiles hardly has bad blood (ha) with any of the Underground’s vampires (yet), he’s unconsciously avoided Islington unless absolutely necessary. The scents clinging to his clothes tend to be a mixed combination of wolf, coyote, and fox—none of which would be particularly welcome in nest territory. There’s a book he’s been desperately searching for, however, and an online site informed him that a copy could be found at the Islington Branch Library. So he hurries over, bag slung over a shoulder, to claim the title.

Only to see it in the arm of some tiny old woman. Is Stiles awful enough to swindle some elderly woman out of her reading selection? Yes. Yes he is. As he approaches, sleeves rolled up to indicate he means business, it occurs to him that the tiny old woman does not have a feminine build. Like, at all. And as he gets even closer, he realizes that this is because said tiny old woman is not a tiny old woman. Well, tiny, yes. Old? In spite of the long, braided silver hair, no. A woman? Definitely not.

“Hey, pal, hold up.”

Still reeling over the fact that this guy had really strange hair, like something out of a MMO, Stiles forgets his pre-planned speech.

“Uh. Hi.”

[veratrum]

His hair's white to the roots, clearly not a dye job, that's for certain. But he looks up when Stiles fumbles his entry, and stares at him, blank and unblinking for a second too long.

Now that's a familiar face. But the tone, the color, the scent--those were all wrong. That was new.

"...I'm not a librarian." He notes blandly, posture clearly indicating he thinks Stiles is very, very lost.