undergrounds | I feel it in the air

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I feel it in the air

[A July catch-all! Pick an option and say hello, or start something more specific in the comments. Hit me up on plurk if you want a specific starter!]

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Option One
Nancy had gotten her start picking pockets as just a child. It was so easy, when you were so close to the ground, to look in purses, to bump into people and distract them while your friend grabbed their wallet or their iPod. Picking pockets wasn't hard at all, if you knew what you were doing.

Shoplifting had come next, as it often did for teenage girls looking for a quick high. It wasn't that for Nancy, unfortunately. It was a way to make money, to get what she wanted. Slide an important object into her purse and no one was any smarter. Wrap a scarf around her neck and pretend she'd been wearing it when she walked in. It was cake.

And okay, yes, it was a great way to get a quick high. This was what brought Nancy to Spittalfields market. It was a busy afternoon, the stalls were bustling, and no one was paying any sort of attention to what a petite girl like her was doing. So a few pieces of jewelry here, a few wallets there- tourists were idiots. They saw the 'Beware Pickpockets' signs and instantly checked where they kept their valuables. Easy marks.

Besides, she had to make up for the first week or so of the month when she'd been holed up in her flat, escaping the Hunt.

Option Two
The Thames was beautiful at night. The lights reflected off the surface, you couldn't tell how dirty it was, either. You could walk along, cross over bridges, watch people stumble home from clubs. There was a lot of time to think, too.

Of course, down by the water anywhere was where you could find her sort. A pair of fish-nets and high-heels, tiny dress. She hadn't had much luck in pubs earlier that evening, so now it was time to wait till bar close, when men started stumbling home, desperate for a woman. That, also happened to be when many vampires chose to feed. And that's where she made the real money.

Option Three
"I'm tired of having these bloody conversations!" Through grit teeth, a petite ginger paced quickly in front of the tube station. "No- no, you stop it.- Stop talking, and let me explain you devil!" On the other end of the line, a man prattled about, his condescending tone loud. If Nancy had been paying attention to him, he assumed so, unaware that, mid-way through his diatribe, she was rolling her eyes.

Finally, she'd had enough. "Listen here; I'm about to get on the tube. I can't talk. I'll come over before work tonight, talk with him- yes, yes, you'll have it, I got it all sorted, you'll have your potions!" Nancy nearly tosses the phone into her purse, violently pressing on her touch-screen to end the call.

"Bloody bastard."

Option Four
Wild card. Make your own, drop me a line, whatever. A few private starters in the comments!

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Seriously though, who the hell used the tube to try to make friends?

Weirdos.

"I wha- oh! Abby, hullo!" Nancy went from taken-aback by someone speaking to her to smiling brightly and waving at her friend. "Yeah, just dealing with business." She rolled her eyes. "Never work for family."

"I'll keep that in mind." It's a complaint that's well meant, she knows. Not worth a reminder (even if she feels it in her gut) that something like that won't be a problem for her. "What kind of potions do you make? I've never really had much education there."

Unthank and her parents had focused on spells more than anything as well as a few charms.

Oh. So that was the truth Abby believed. Potions.

Not exactly wrong, mind you.

"Oh it's all over the map. He tends to take on odd-jobs that are needed. He's talented." She needed a drink. "He specializes in more difficult potions, though. That require well, his fae touch." She has to check herself to avoid cringing.

"And you? And you pretty good at them, too?" After all, she'd mentioned getting him some. Or, at least, that was how Abby remembered hearing it.

"Maybe you could teach me a bit."

Oh dear.

"Oh- they're above my skill level, honestly. I really just help out. I'm not nearly as skilled as I'm sure you think I am."

"Well," she said, shrugging a little, "then we'll have to learn together, huh?"

She must have misunderstood what she'd heard. Not a big deal, far as she was concerned.

Now that gets a bright smile out of her. She'll take it. Anything to move on to another subject. "I guess we will!"

"Where are you headed?" She nods toward the tube. "I'm going to Tottenham Hale for some shopping."

...And not at all to look around Haringey to see what the sources of contention are between the vampires and werewolves. Just to see if there might be room for some witches, too.

You are a terrible, terrible liar, Abby.

"Oh, no where in particular- d'you want some company?" It'd be nice to get to know her more, one on one.

"But it's alright if you don't. I don't mind, honest."

She's planning on shopping, too. Just... also using her presence there to try and do some business. A girl can multitask.

She smiles a little wider. "I'd love that. It's more fun with someone else anyway."

"Isn't it, though?" She remarks. "Well then. Tottenham?"

"Tottenham," she agrees.

Once there, well. It's probably easy to tell that Asda isn't Abby's usual scene. Which isn't to say she isn't happy to go through the racks of clothes, no. But, well. The fact that she looks at each one's tag, then price, then moves on says a lot about what she's used to shopping.

The retail park... Well. For an old-money socialite, it's slumming it. But she doesn't seem unhappy to be there.

Each and every tag has Nancy's eyes widening and immediately looking for something else. Something less expensive. Most of her money goes towards the boys, and, after a turbulent first week of the month, Nancy's stuck trying to work over-time to make her rent. To pay her dues. As a result, buying new dresses or shoes, especially at these prices is not going to happen.

But that doesn't mean she isn't enjoying herself. She likes spending time with Abby, and the clothes here are beautiful. If anything, pawing through the racks gives her a bit of an idea what's in style, and where to look for their less-expensive dopplegangers.

And maybe, just maybe, she can get away with transforming a few of these items into something small like a bottle cap, until she gets home. Easier than trying to stuff them into her purse.

"That one's really cute," Abby says as she notices Nancy looking at a particular dress. The fact that Nancy doesn't seem to be collecting any to buy... Well. She can't be sure, and she's not going to ask, but--

"Wanna go get some lunch? My treat. I'm starving."

"It is, isn't it?" She looks at it, turning around the lavender dress on the hanger to better see the back. It'd be perfect for the rest of summer. But that price tag... "I don't have much cash on me right now, so I'll have to come back." Or... not.

Oh hey, a distraction. Perfect.

"Yeah?" She makes like she's going to hang the dress back up, angling away from the dress and the racks, but she's actually sliding it into her bag. "That'd be amazing- I'll get next time, I promise." The dress was securely in her bag, and the lady at the desk wasn't paying any attention.

"Where did you have in mind?" SHe makes for the door.

"Spark Cafe isn't very far. We could head over there."

She might not be extremely familiar in practice with Haringey, but she does her homework. After all, there's some potential in this area. The werewolves and vampires oppose each other under the surface. The humans here have little idea of the war in their borough.

Abigail... Well. She can't help but see an opportunity. If an alliance can be secured with Islington and East End in time. After all, it might be a better solution to both sides, ultimately, to give the territory to an allied but mostly neutral party. Make it safe for all of them without giving one side or the other an advantage.

...There might be cause for her considerations to a second degree in politics.

"I've heard good things about it, and I'd love to see the neighbourhood a bit more."

Even with her role in the coven, Nancy's own politics play a much larger role than larger, coven and supernatural politics. Her life was often times hard enough without having to keep score. So, she made her alliances on a person-by-person basis.

"Sure! Just lead the way." Nancy's already out the door, dress securely in her purse with the sales woman none-the-wiser. She'll wear it out the next time she gets to work.

"C'mon."

Abigail smiles as she walks alongside Nancy, leading her out of the retail park and down the street. It'll be a bit of walk, but that's kind of nice, given the weather.

"This is a really nice neighbourhood, isn't it?"

Nancy had to agree. "It's gorgeous." Nothing like the area of Bexley she lived in. Her apartment was small, but decent enough. "Easy to get to and from on the tube. And ooh!" She pointed a few feet down the street. "Looks like an adorable bakery."

She had a weakness for cupcakes like anyone else.

"Wanna stop in?"

After all, it wasn't like they were on any strict schedule. And the joy of being (nominal) adults was that they didn't have to follow arbitrary rules like having lunch before getting sweets. If they wanted something, they could get it.

"Can we?!" She practically jumped in her heels at the chance, but quickly remembered that she was a grown ass woman who couldn't be jumping with excitement in response to cupcakes.

Okay, that didn't really happen. She jumped excitedly at the thought of cupcakes, butter cream frosting, sprinkles... "I'd love to get some." Some. She was going to eat all of them.

Abigail laughed. Which felt good. Very good.

"Of course we can. We'll get a couple. Maybe some to take to Kenzi."

After all, they weren't in any rush.

"Good! I'm glad you said it, so I don't have to ask. Just a heads up, Kenzi is allergic to peanuts- deathly allergic." It was important that someone informed Abby of this. Because peanut butter was awesome, and Kenzi couldn't have it.

"Oh! Thanks for telling me." She will keep that in mind. Because, well, she gets that. Really, she's kind of amazed that the universe didn't decide to make her deathly allergic to something really common with the way it likes to screw with Widdowsons. "We'll be careful what we get her, then."

"Of course." She and Kenzi had been best friends pretty much since Kenzi arrived in London, and you don't spend that much time with someone without realizing what they had allergies to.

"Perfect. Save all the peanut butter ones for me, then."

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I feel it in the air

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