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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.]

Your accent gave you away about the States.

[A joke, mostly.] That's- wow. I'm real glad you weren't in a war zone. [Though hey, welcome to the supernatural war zones.] But the work on these- they're stunning. [She doesn't have any tattoos, unsure what she'd get, if anything. She had enough scars that she didn't need to mark her body anymore.]

Do you want me to get the ones on your chest? Or?

Oh, yeah. I always forget that. [He flashes a brief grin, to show he's teasing about the accent, then his tone becomes sincere again.] I got the first in Ohio and the other two where I was stationed, in South Africa. I kinda think the guy there probably made his living on dumbass drunk soldiers looking for ink, but he was damn good, so I didn't mind.

He did these in one sitting, after I made sergeant. [Kyle gestures to the stripes on his shoulder as he shifts to face forward, glancing over to Nancy and assuming she's done with his back.] Uh, if you don't mind? I mean, I can do it, if it's weird.

Wow. [She smiles, looking over each of them as he mentions them.] South Africa- wow. Can't exactly say the same about Ohio, sad to say. [She didn't know anything about the state. So obviously that meant it wasn't worth knowing. Kind of like Wisconsin. ]

No, you made the right decision.

[She is done with his back, or nearly, rubbing the salve in just a little bit more.] No- it's not. I'm perfectly happy to do your chest.

[Seriously, she gestures for him to turn around a bit with an extremely casual air.] Unless you think it's weird.

Me neither. [He admits with a smile. Then Kyle turns as directed to face her, folding one leg under him. It's oddly intimate for not leading to sex, which he's not exactly sure how to feel about, but he sure as hell doesn't mind an attractive girl touching him.]

I don't think it's weird. It's nice. [Another smile.] What about you? What's your story?

Alright.

[No problem, then. She adjusts herself so she can better reach the injuries.] Me? Not much to say. Born and raised in London by a fae. I consider the others he raises my brothers, for the most part. I'm a witch, and I'm a sex worker.

[Because it's not fair to him to not tell him, when he's sitting here in her apartment and she's actively touching his chest and abs. Otherwise, she wasn't sure she would have told him.] I'm not working tonight. So this isn't that. [Which he'd surely assume.]

[Kyle's less surprised by her occupation and more surprised when she feels the need to clarify that the healing and her hands on his chest right now isn't part of her job. Although, if he's being honest, it does decrease the awkward intimacy a little. She's used to touching and he's used to being touched. Easy.]

You mean you don't rub warming gel on all your patients? Customers. Clients? [He shrugs helplessly, his joke failing in his efforts to find the right word. Being Kyle, he continues in an effort to recover.] What kind of sex work you do? Cam, escort, prostitution?

[He was around it in South Africa. Some of the guys - and one of the girls - occasionally found company for money. It wasn't a common thing, but it happened. He was never the type. There was something insincere about it that turned him off from trying. Right now, he's caught between worrying Nancy's in a desperate situation he needs to help her with and worrying that he's judging a choice she willingly made and he needs to play it cool.]

Clients, [she confirms.] And if I do, it costs extra. [but she's smiling because oh wow, that's a load off her shoulders that she hadn't known had been there. What's more interesting is he asks for clarification. Though, she supposes, mayhaps he's naturally curious and may as well ask.]

Prostitution. [Nancy would say it was her choice, but the only reason she'd continued was because she'd been forced into it in the first place. It wasn't a conversations he was eager to have, either ways. So she appreciates he's playing it cool.]

Glad you're not working then. Pretty sure I couldn't afford you. [He hazards, not sure if it's a joke too close to the heart of things or if she has a sense of humor and can joke about it. Kyle has no idea how things like this work and has always defaulted to a sense of humor when uncertain or awkward.

He glances down to her hands on his chest, noticing that she's almost done. His mind is both over- and under-sexualizing her actions now, simultaneously, mostly just serving to confuse him.] Do you like it? I could- If you don't, I could help you find something else. If you do, then.. carry on.

[she laughs, thankful that Kyle's got a sense of humor. It's already helped to steady her hands over the course of the last few minutes.] I wouldn't be so sure. [She's not that expensive, truthfully. Not like some of the escorts.]

I don't mind it, no. It's a job, like any other. [she shrugs it off.] it's just one that you get paid to have orgasms during, if all goes well. If anything, it's exhausting. But thank you. [Mostly that his offer to help came with the option to ignore it.]

[He has no intention of following up or asking how much she costs. His curiosity doesn't quite extend that far. Instead, he looks up at the ceiling, trying not to focus on the fact that she's talking about orgasms while her fingers still curve along his body. Change of subject.]

You almost done? [Not that he minds if she isn't.] I hate to think I'm responsible for you drinking cold tea.

Almost, [she says, pausing just to get a bit more salve.] You can tell it's already working. [she dances her fingers across a scrape she'd already worked at, where there was no longer any trace of scab.]

Listen to you- any tea is decent tea.

No. Iced tea is great. It should be iced. Hot tea isn't bad, but it should be hot. Lukewarm tea is worse than flat Coke. Some things should not be ingested at room temperature. Come to think of it, most drinks should not be ingested at room temperature. Except maybe water.

[Kyle glances down, his fingers tracing over where he remembers a scratch to be, feeling no sign of it now. It's amazing and feels like something out of a movie, hard to actually believe.] How much do I owe you for the healing? If not the service, at least the cost of the product.

[Nancy ducks her head and laughs.] Alright, I think you're right with that. God- flat warm coke is the worst. [of all the things to bond over. Still, she raises the cup to her lips and takes a sip.]

Still hot. [She smiles across the top of her mug like it's some great secret.]

Nothing- it's free. I volunteered, I'm not going to charge

Right? Terrible. [Kyle gives her a wide smile as he grabs his shirt again, slipping it back over his head and tugging it down into place. Then he picks up his tea, taking a large sip in the hopes that hot doesn't mean mouth burning. Thankfully, it's not bad.]

Not bad. [He admits, though he's immediately shaking his head.] Nope. Can't allow it. I have to at least take you out to dinner.

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

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