undergrounds | do you fly in the day, darling

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do you fly in the day, darling

[A June 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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A Just another Saturday night out, Nancy's lips painted blood red and staining the side of her low-ball glass. Her legs are crossed at the ankles, black pumps and fishnets on full display under her short leather skirt. It's a night out, another night working. People around here knew who she was, what she offered. It was easier in supernatural bars, Nancy knew, to find vampires looking for a feeding, or even just a john wanting some company.

She props an elbow up on the bar, and looks down the the way, eyes peeled for any familiar, or unfamiliar, face. She'll just try not to think about how great it would be to be watching Netflix right now instead of work.

B Do you believe in fate, baby, ask me, ask me, the music played in her earbuds as Nancy jogged in place at a cross-walk. Trainers on her feet and hair pulled up in a pony-tail, she was doing her usual exercise routine. Always good to be fast on your feet, she'd learned as a child, and running was a great way to keep that up. Even if she had ways to get away, her feet were still just as important.

Besides, there was something relaxing about running, she'd found. She could shove the world away and concentrate on the music and running and the city. She'd found her way down to the Thames, and was running on the paths near it, past youths with skateboards and graffiti'd walls, business men grabbing a bite to eat right outside the Globe. It was astounding the way the culture and history blended together so seamlessly. She'd never get over that.

The light turned green, and on she ran.

C Choose your own! Private starters in the comments.

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He's been keeping an eye on Nancy for a little while; trying to understand the witch who broke free of Fagin's hold. It's never happened before, not that he knows of, and he wants to understand it - what's so special about her that made it possible? Moreover, Fagin hasn't tried to exact any kind of revenge that he knows of. Nancy may be powerful, but she doesn't appear to know how to harness it, it couldn't possibly be that hard to deal with her if Fagin so wanted. Part of him suspects Fagin intends to try and get her back under his control, it's the only explanation he can think of.

It's not something he can figure out just by watching her, is what he's come to understand most of all. Time to make contact.

Eames stands on the other side of the crossing, waiting for Nancy. He doesn't step in her way or wave or anything like that, actually he's kind of curious as to whether she'd recognise him. Despite not making any overt effort to get her attention, he does look straight at her as she crosses the road, making no secret of the fact he's here to talk to her.

She met the man's eyes across the intersection. There was something familiar about him, she thought. Something about the way he looked at her... She could sense his magic, even from here. That, and the eye contact, she knows he's going to speak to her.

She waits until the light turns and walks, rather than jogging, over to him, pulling out her ear-buds.

"What can I help you with?" She arches an eyebrow up at him. She probably looks quite silly to anyone around her, a petite girl in running clothes talking to this well-dressed man. There's really no way around it, though.

Now that she was closer, she could recognize him a bit better. She purses her lips just slightly, trying to place his face across her memory.

"Nancy," he says with a smile, trying to read her expression. She does't know who he is, he decides, but that's no surprise. They've never interacted, after all. "I'd be offended that you don't recognise me, but it's been some time, I suppose."

He casts a glance up and down the street, idly wondering how much attention anyone is paying to them. Aside from the odd curious look, nobody seems to care all that much. The beauty of major cities, he supposes - nobody cares about anything that doesn't immediately affect them. "My name's Eames," he adds as he looks back at her, "I'm an... Associate of your ex-guardian."

So that's where she'd seen him before. Back at the den. It's strange he recognizes her so easily, but, she was, and always had been the only girl that Fagin had gotten his hands on. So it was easy to stick out of a crowd.

At that, though, she pales slightly and looks around before nodding towards him. "Let's get off the main road." Some side-street would be easier if they were going to have this conversation. When they'd started heading down the nearest street, she looked at him again. "What does he want?" It had to be something if he was sending someone on his behalf, rather than telling her when she next popped over.

He laughs and shrugs - her paranoia is sensible, if misaimed, "I've no idea. I haven't spoken to Fagin in quite a while."

His smile fades, but his expression is still soft. Easygoing. Anything he can do to put her at ease is a benefit. No idea how much she knows about the fae, but he's banking on her knowing that, as much as he can twist his words, he can't outright lie to her. Very plain with his next statement so there's no room for an implicit lie. "So we're clear, I'm not here on his behalf. It just seemed to be the fastest way to jog your memory."

Oh, she knew that very well. Fagin was good at double-talk, dancing around subjects, and he'd made Nancy wary of it all. It's hard to trust much of anyone in a life like hers, and she trusts Fagin even less. But at least Eames isn't here for him.

"Good. Pleasure to meet you again then, Eames." But there has to be something more. So, once more, she'll ask. "So what can I do for you, if you're not here for the Devil."

He may as well have been, as far as Nancy was concerned.

"I wanted to meet the one who slipped out of Fagin's grasp." He crosses his arms and looks around again, no one seems to be around, but you can't even trust the wildlife around here. "Call it curiosity on my part, I don't believe it's ever happened before."

"It's been centuries." At least. But she'd been a smart girl, and her proclivity for witchcraft had only helped her realize what exactly it was that allowed her to remain loyal to this awful, awful man. But she knew him too well now, and he knew her, too. She didn't trust him. Or any of his associates, really. She was only waiting for the day they came back to call on her. One of the reasons she always was sure to stop by the den. Why she still gave him some of what money she made.

"So people talk about me." That was a little unnerving. She liked remaining as anonymous as she could, it gave her better access to what she wanted at any given time. "But I've seen you around before, Eames." Now that she had his name and knew he'd worked alongside Fagin at some point, it was easier to place him.

Eames smirks at the comment - he's always relished his anonymity amongst the mortals, but Nancy's a special case. And a busybody like him, well. London's a big place, but supernaturals had their habits and their haunts.

"See anything interesting?"

She ponders this question. "Now that I've seen your face closer up? Last time I saw you, you were hunched over a table with Fagin, couldn't hear anything. So, I hate to break it to you, but nothing at all. Which strikes me as odd for a man like you."

It's a disappointment and a compliment all in one. Eames' smile breaks into a soft chuckle, "maintaining your anonymity's a tough skill to develop." He gives Nancy a bit of a considering look and adds, "I suppose I've had longer at it than you."

Granted, being able to change shape and vanish back home helps a bunch. But that's neither here nor there.

She does her best to maintain her anonynymity, too. But that's easier in the mundane world than it is the Underground, where only a few people have access to the same things she does. And are willing to get their hands dirty if need-be.

"I suppose. But not much longer, right? You've got no more'n ten years on me. By looks, at least." She wasn't going to ask how old he actually was. That was right up there with asking Vampires how old they were on the rude-scale.

"I do look good for a man of my age." Taking an opportunity to boast? Eames? Never. "You do well though. I imagine I'd've had a harder time finding you if I didn't have the luxury of already knowing about you."

She rolls her eyes.

"I certainly hope so." Though it's worrying that a fae can track her down so easily. But then again, he had connections to her that most others didn't. "Speaking of, you came all this way to find me. Obviously you wanted more than just to introduce yourself."

Well having an ally in a witch with untapped potential would be useful, but that's not really something to lead with. That's more of a third or fourth conversation kind of topic.

"As I said, I wanted to sate my curiosity." He gestures as if to say 'that's it', even though he's now fully aware Nancy's smart enough to know it's not, "besides, even if I was after something more, I don't know that I've anything worthwhile to offer you in exchange."

Third or fourth? Well, someone certainly has plans.

"Well, now you've met me." She gestured to herself in a mimicry of his own gesture. But there had to be something more to it.

"Well, there's always the promise of a favor." Big or small, it'd be nice to know she had that pending. "If there is anything, of course."

"Why don't I also write you a blank cheque while I'm at it?" But he considers it, taking a full few moments to think it over as if he doesn't already know what he'd ask of her at this juncture.

"My primary trade is information," something he's aware Nancy is placed well to get, "I could do a small favour in exchange."

"Well I wouldn't say no." She's teasing, but her words ring true. If anyone was gonna give her a blank cheque, she'd take it. With only a few questions asked. Specifically if it could be made out to cash.

She purses her lower lip just slightly. Information. Yes, he was right about that. "What sort of information?" If he asked, she coudl try to find out what she could. Alright, so a fellow had asked her for information about her clients before, and she'd turned him down. But Eames was Fae. And he happened to have a mutual... not really enemy but unsavory acquaintance.Regardless, she was more apt to tell him anything if she knew it. Plus, he knew her business. Sasuke probably should have kept his nose far out of it.

Eames hums thoughtfully; there's a lot of things it'd be useful to know, but right now it's probably better to start small. Ish. Asses how useful Nancy actually is before he starts trying to establish any kind of working relationship.

"I'm worried about the vampires getting too big for their breeches," he says after some pause. "I'm not looking to interfere just yet, but it certainly would put me at ease to know what the Islington lot are up to."

Nancy considers this. She'd told Sasuke that she wouldn't rat out any of her clients. But Eames has more to give her than some boy she'd never met before in her life.

"If I find anything suspicious, I can tell you, easy." So far, she didn't really have anything to report. "Just word of a new vampire causing trouble, but I know a man looking to help settle him down."

Ugh, a newborn. Probably one of Islington's. What a nuisance.

"No need to stick your neck out on my behalf," he's so hilarious, everyone just take a minute to appreciate that joke, "but if any information does find its way into your lap, I certainly would apprecaite it if you felt like sharing."

Tell her about it.

She laughs at the joke, so, consider that appreciation. "Of course. That I can do." Which meant she could also pick and choose what information she revealed. "Don't expect names of clients."

"I'll leave it to your discretion." He can respect that, besides giving names could put her in jeopardy. Wouldn't want that.

Eames smiles and fishes in his inside pocket, pulling out a card he offers to Nancy. There's nothing on it sans a mobile number, but it's pretty decent card stock and a nice font. All very classy. "My number, if you think of anything."

Nancy inspects the card for a moment before sliding it into her pocket next to her phone. "Wonderful. Thank you. Something tells me you may already have mine..." If not, she'll happily give it to him.

"It was nice to meet you properly, Nancy." He smiles, electing not to answer her one way or the other - which he assumes is just as good as an affirmative, really. Backing up a step, he gestures in a facsimile of a bow, "I'll let you get back to your run."

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stauncherhearted - 2015-07-07 04:28 (UTC) - Expand

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