undergrounds | she's a vamp, but she still kills the dance

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she's a vamp, but she still kills the dance

Dance In The Dark
(February 13th)

Lately, there's been a rise in parties at hidden venues. Secret locations around London that you can only get to if you know the right people. Getting there is difficult, but once you're there, it's sure to be a night you'll never forget- if you remember it in the first place.

Tonight's party is held in an abandoned tube station. Climbing down what feel like thousands of steps you step off through a dark tunnel, the old stone walls slick with condensation. After following the winding walkway, you emerge in a cavernous room, with alcoves filled with pillows, the entire place is lit by candle light. Music blares through speakers as a DJ plays all sorts of dance and techno rave music. Alcohol is plentiful, in multi-color cocktails, and the air is thick with the smell of sweat and magic.

But behind all of that is a new nest of five vampires, watching, waiting for the clock to strike midnight. At the signal, the lights will be doused, the doors shut, and what will later be called the Valentine's Eve Massacre will begin.

If you're lucky, there are some ways out. Back tunnels, sewers, ways to escape. You could always fight, too- the vampires are young and inexperienced. Either way, it's up to you to save yourself: there's no mobile phone reception down here.

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I guess so. [Anything to get her home safely without too much protest.] Good thing I'll have your number.

Yeah, I will. Wouldn't dream of a double standard. [Another smile. Although he's still reeling a little from the massacre downstairs, Nancy's a nice girl and he's actually glad to have met her. Maybe if they talk more, the association of her and death will dissipate.] So what did you mean before, when you said you could help me with my cuts and bruises?

a good thing.

[She repeats, and looks over at him.] I meant what I said. I can help you with 'em. I'm pretty good at healing, as it were. [Had to be.]

Like magical healing? How does that work? [Kyle's oblivious about magic in general, but especially the nuances of specific spells. He has a a few deeper bruises from a fight the other day that he's more interested in getting taken care of than any of the shallow scrapes and bumps from tonight.]

It... does? [Nancy doesn't know the science behind it, the specifics, like some of the more educated witches out there.] Honestly, no one's asked me that question before. I... do it. I think the words and imagine, and concentrate, but it happens.

Some of the first things I learned to do.

When we get to your place, will you take a look? On your porch or whatever, I'm not asking to come in. [They just met, after all, and the last thing he wants is to sound like he's trying to sleep with her.] How long does it take?

The front steps. [Under a terrible light. Sure, why not? It'd make bruises look even more sallow than usual.

She won't sleep with him. That's not her plan.] Not too long. But if you did want to come in... I'll put some tea on. Help calm our nerves, I don't want to do anything with unsteady hands. [it was hard to concentrate when they shook.]

Cool. Sounds even better. [He nods, the smile he offers slightly strained with the mention of calming nerves. Kyle's trying to focus on the now to avoid those exact nerves. He glances around, not having been in this area before and glad she's leading him.] Are we close?

[Nancy glances up at the cross-section they were approaching.] Oh- yeah, surprisingly.

Must have walked a way in the tunnels, then. It's a bit up ahead.

[Because magic or something and narrative coincidences am i rite?] Not the greatest part of town, you'll have to forgive me. I'm far from wealthy.

[Totes mah goats there they were.]

You don't need to apologize for how you live. [He replies with a light shrug. It doesn't bother him at all, beyond concern for her well being.]

[Woah. Woooah. Nancy nearly chokes. He doesn't expect her to apologize. Which is brilliant, but- oh. The realization settles in her stomach that she's apologizing for herself. toherself.

She swallows it down.]

And here we are. [She's leading him up the front steps and into the building, up a flight of stairs and down a small hallway before arriving at her doorstep. Standing in front of it, Nancy fiddles with her purse. Her fingers shake and she nearly drops the keys a few times before she finally gets it into lock and opens up the door.]

Don't mind my cat.

[She flicks the lights on and kicks off her heels, taking her down to her 5' 2''.] Sit anywhere, I'll put the kettle on. [She gestures at her stove-top where the flames instantly jump to life under the kettle.] Just a few minutes and we'll have tea. In the meanwhile, let's take a look at you.

[And in the light of her apartment, well, damn. Not bad.]

[Kyle follows along easily enough, keeping a paranoid eye out for signs of life or any suspicious persons. It all seems innocent enough. At the door, he's about to offer to help when she finally unlocks the door and allows him inside. It only worries him more.]

Thanks. [He replies lightly, looking around the small apartment before accepting her invitation to take a seat on her couch. Kyle watches the fire for a moment, wondering if she really lives her magical life with such nonchalance. It's amazing to him to think about.

At her comment about taking a look, he nods a little and stands again to slide his jacket off and then lift his shirt over his head and lay both on the arm of the couch beside him. He's fit, with more than a normal amount of scars dotting his torso, and a few tattoos: a small silver heart, like a locket, on his left pec; a set of sergeant stripes with an American flag peeking through on his right shoulder; and a celtic cross with the letters 'VQP' woven inside on the center of his back.

Kyle indicates his left abs, where a dark purple bruise dots the area. He also has a few scrapes on his cheek and arms from tonight, but it's the slight older bruise that concerns him.] Think you can help?

[She tries not to admire, she really, really does. But his arms and torso were really, really impressive. Slowly, Nancy approached him, coming to sit at his feet on her knees. Easier to see the damage from here.

She reaches out and gently touches some of the bruises and scrapes, her hands trembling. Nerves fried, that's all, she knows. But he's counting on her to try to heal him, and she can't look like she's faltering. So carefully, she runs the pad of her forefinger over his particularly dark bruise.

He has soft skin, she notices.]

I'm good at bruises, [she promises him, and, closing her eyes, focuses on the bruise, healing it, coaxing the blood cells to dissapate. Her touch will feel a bit warmer to him, as slowly the color fades from the nasty purple to green, then yellow, and finally brown before disappearing all together.

When it's done, she lifts her hand and takes a deep breath. That was harder than usual, but as she pushes herself to her feet to go tend to the tea, she doesn't want to let on.] I've got salves for the cuts, too.

[But she's curious about the scars, as she always is. She pushes it to the side, entering her kitchen to manually take the kettle off the stove and grab them some mugs of tea.] Milk or sugar? [She looks over her shoulder, catching the initials on his back. More questions for another time.]

[Kyle can't help but feel a little self-conscious when Nancy kneels down in front of him, trying to stop his mind from wandering. He can't help the thoughts and instead focuses on controlling the actions, looking out at her apartment instead of down at her.

When he feels her fingers shaking against hi skin, however, he finally looks down and gently presses one of her hands over hers. Kyle gives her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze before letting go and allowing her to get back to what she's doing.]

I can't be that ugly. [He jokes, trying to distract her from her fear the way he likes to be distracted. He senses the warmth and watches her, focusing, noticing how cute it is as her brows pull together with the effort. This might be the weirdest fake date he's ever been on.

Kyle offers her a hand up when she's done, worried about how exhausted she seems. Not just tired, but weary and drained. He knows the feeling all too well. He turns to grab his shirt as she moves into the kitchen, then realizes he might as well leave it off if she's going to look at some of the cuts too. Instead, he takes a seat and tries to be comfortable.]

Uh, just regular's fine. [He's not generally much of a tea drinker, though he doesn't mind it. Anything to help calm the nerves, really.] Or however you make it.

I've seen uglier, [she says off-handedly, but his touch gets her to look up, if only briefly.

It's true, though. She's not saying it by way of conversation. She's been with hideous men, physically and personally. And a few that have been extremely attractive. It's just what happens in her line of work.

She takes his hand to rise.]

Regular. [Americans.] I'm a fan of milk and sugar, personally. [Back on her feet, she heads back to the kitchenette and starts to get them each a cup of tea ready.] I've got alcohol, if you'd rather that, too. Doesn't make a bad addition to tea.

[But she's already grabbing a small jar of salve from one of her cupboards.] Thank god they didn't take this, too. ['They'. The guardians. They hadn't been able to find much on her, and what they'd taken that meant something she'd managed to get back, but only after Norrell made sure any possible magical properties were eliminated. Which meant she now had a normal ring, and a really cool looking stick.]

Here. Catch. [She underhands it over to him so she can keep up with the tea, and in a few moments she's bringing them each a cup back over to the couch, prepared however he specifies.]

[Kyle cracks a grin at her remark, grateful that she seems to play along. It fades slightly as he admires her work with awe, looking up at her clarification on the tea. It's not like he knows, though her echo makes him realize just how American he sounds. Not that he minds.]

Uh, milk and sugar. Thanks. [He listens and watches, not missing the nuance of her words, and frowning as he catching the salve.] 'They?'

[Kyle opens the jar, sniffing at the strange substance and then pulling it back to his lap. He sets the lid on the table, looking up as she approaches and giving her a light smile for her effort.] Thanks. So I just smear it on?

[So American.]

It's no worry, [she says, because honestly, Americans are adorable. The way they pronounced aluminum? Come on!] So milk and sugar it is. Just the way I take it.

[Both cups are ready, and she arrives at the couch in time to witness him looking at the open jar.]

Here we are- yeah. The properties in and of itself are magic. So I don't have to do anything I haven't done, already. Real helpful for those light surface wounds. [The tea nearly spills over her mug, but she takes a drink to lower the volume of tea.]

They. Guardians- Night Council. It was part of Norrell's anti-dark magic crusade. They broke in here, ransacked my things. [She shook her head.] And fined me for having items that had only just been made illegal.

Norrell's a bastard, don't let anyone tell you different.

[Kyle nods, looking down at the jar again. Somewhat hesitantly, he dips the tip of his fingers in the soft mixture to get some salve on the tips and then looks to his chest to his shoulder to start applying some there. It's going to be a slow process, but it's better than nothing and he's grateful for that.]

Thanks for this. And the tea. [Not that he's going to be jumping out of his seat to drink it or anything. Kyle continues applying as he listens, shaking his head.]

That's bullshit. Have you talked to a lawyer? Are there even lawyers that handle that kind of thing? There have to be. [He glances over to Nancy before continuing to apply the magical medicine.] Norrell's.. part of the NC? And the Guardians are the enforcers?

Of course. Here.

[Nancy held her hand out for the jar. She was planning on doing it, just tossing him the jar to get it over there.] Let me do that for you.

[She dips her fingers into the salve and starts to carefully apply it to his back.] Can't afford one. And it's all perfectly legal anyway. He's Head Priest of Daybreak and that makes him powerful. Powerful and nasty. [She won't tell him just how awful he was, having his manservant bring her to him under false pretenses, only to interrogate her. She considered it a kidnapping. But that's not exactly first weird not-date material.]

Yeah, that's exactly how it is. Individually, well, I know one of them. But... He's alright. [she shrugs] The Guardians also try to keep our world from yours. No doubt they'll be talking to me about tonight. [Coward would also be talking to her]

[Kyle held the jar out to her somewhat pathetically, having been awkward in smearing it on himself. He shifted to the edge of the couch and turned to allow her better access to his back, straightening and his shoulders tensing out of habit.

Norrell sounded like an asshole and a bully, neither of which Kyle was keen on, and he made a mental note to find and talk to the guy later, sometime after he finally spoke with Redbright at the Institute. The more he heard about Daybreak, the worse they sounded. Although he had yet to speak with anyone actually a part of the overpowered regime.]

About me or the vampires? I already know about the vampires. And Midnight. You shouldn't get in trouble for helping me. [He flinched slightly at a particularly sensitive slash, though he immediately steadied after the fact.] Do you know Lancelot or another one? How many are there anyway?

The vampires. Not about you. I wouldn't have said anything to you, if you hadn't, but you're right about that. [If anything, they'd find a way to alter his memory, which, to her, was absolutely awful.]

Yeah, I know Lance. How d'you know him? [It made sense that she'd have run into him. But Kyle?]

Good. [An investigation into the supernatural incident. It made sense, he supposed. Kyle wondered if they would somehow track him down and ask him questions as well, or if he would escape the inquiry as a potentially ignorant human. He also wondered if Nancy would mention him and if that'd be a problem. But he could wait and find out.]

I don't know him, but someone else mentioned he was a Guardian. And a cop. I thought that was a little obvious, so it stuck with me.

[She wouldn't mention him. There was no reason, unless he was in on it, but she highly doubted it. The vampires probably would have turned on him, too. They were the sorts to do that, in general. Especially if they were luring humans into their rave massacre in the first place. They clearly hadn't wanted any survivors.]

It is, a little, yeah. He's good, though.

[she traces over his scrapes with salved fingers. The salve gives off a warming sensation, as the first few layers of skin begin to knit themselves back together.]

Your tattoos are brilliant.

Was he one of the ones that raided your apartment? [It isn't the kind of question that he's wanting a real answer from, more a rhetorical way of questioning the Guardians in general. Then again, Kyle isn't really one to discount someone entirely without meeting them and getting their side of the story as well. Unless they hurt his friends. Then shit gets personal.

He sits still as she works on his cuts and scrapes from his fight with the asshole vampire from a few nights prior, grateful to have a quick fix for the unwelcome scuffle. It's not something he plans to rely on, but a good resource for emergencies maybe.

At the latter, he chuckles, trying to downplay the tattoos.] Yeah, thanks. Military shit, you know? It's what you do.

No, thank god. [She didn't know what she would have done, if he'd knocked on her apartment door. He knew where she lived, having walked her home previously. Well, truthfully, he'd carried her home, but that was another story entirely.]

You were in the military? [She pauses for a moment, simply curious. She had no feelings towards it one way or another. Both their professions had a long history together, in that case.]

[He'll leave it at that for now, making a mental note to look up Lancelot and try to get to know the guy a little if there's opportunity for it. As well as, though he's loathe to admit it, ensure that the guy has good intentions where Nancy's concerned. Not that it's remotely his place to.]

Yeah, United States Army. Did a couple tours. I wasn't in a war zone or anything. [He shrugs, as if wasn't years of his life and a complete change in his attitudes, behavior, and perceptions of the world. It's also where he learned how to kill vampires, though he tries not to come right out with that in general.]

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