undergrounds | (open) hell is deep lord, but we're heading deeper

[With new lords come new excuses to party.]

[Some time on the 19th, the fae stage a takeover of the club fabric in Smithfield. Invitations are sent out to all the fae in London, touting the glorious coming out of the Lords of Rivers and Illusions, Seelie and Unseelie respectively. It's one of those times where fae of both courts just want an excuse to throw a party, and the invitation is all the notice said new lords get that they are going to be guests of honour.]

[It's a typical fae affair; the magic is heavy in all three rooms, one of which is decorated like a ballroom in Other Realm fashion. The food and drink served at the bar remains untouched by fae charms, but the fae presence itself seems to be intoxicating. Some of the activities happening in dark corners seem to be a little beyond what's regularly allowed at any reputable nightclub, but don't pay attention to that just enjoy the party.]

[If you manage to cause any trouble, a team of large fae is here to escort you out. You may have seen them faithfully guarding the door, sniffing out those who may want to cause harm to the high concentration of fae inside. Vampires can be let through if they have a fae companion with them, and otherwise all types of humans and supernatural alike are allowed in.]

[The party goes on for precisely 72 hours, and on the 22nd the party winds down and mysteriously disappears. The club is left a little cleaner than when it started, the staff left completely befuddled about what just occurred.] (x)

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The alarm bells always go off when a vampire comes anywhere near him. He still knows the feeling, their magical signature, so well, but he's trained himself not to react. Instead, he smiles warmly and nods.

"One of them, at least," he says, over the hum of the party. "To what do we owe the pleasure of a guest from outside the courts?"

He doesn't pay attention to Islington politics. He hates all of them the same.

Jean-Claude offers him something of a gallic shrug, moving to join him in his position by the wall.

"Ah. Is it not polite to congratulate you on your new position?" he asks aloud, although it's pretty obvious that's probably not why he's there. Vampires and fae do not generally associate with one another, especially not for the benefit of making friends.

He offers the quirk of a smile sideways at the other man. "What can I say?" he admits, far more honestly. "I do enjoy a good party."

"Well, that is one of our specialties," Finnick admits, almost reluctant. He's tense now that Jean-Claude has come closer, subtly looking around for places he could make a door and leave. There are still guards near the entrance to the club, a few people milling around, but they're just out of earshot.

He keeps talking. That's one of his personal specialties after all. "You came here with a friend, I assume."

Jean-Claude tips his head in something of a nod. "My employee," he confirms, as nonchalant as you please. Though it's somewhat exciting, the idea that he has made the fae nervous. He needs to keep a tight rein on himself that he does not wind up doing something rash. Fae blood is near irresistible, but he has not lived so long as he has to throw it away on a stupid mistake.

He shifts slightly, settling into a pose, as he does. "Stephen." He shrugs slightly. "It's unlikely the pair of you have met. Unless you have been to my club, of course." He quirks something of a smile of the idea of it.

"I very highly doubt it," Finnick says without a second thought, a little sharper than he means to. Any establishment owned by a vampire is a place he would naturally avoid; even before he was bound he had a healthy fear of them. During the binding is another story, but Finnick doesn't add the not of my own free will lest he show too much of his hand.

Jean-Claude inclines his head and doesn't question it. Guilty Pleasures isn't everyone's type of club. Maybe this fae does not appreciate the bodies of other men. Maybe he knew that Jean-Claude himself was the proprietor and therefore avoided it on principle. Maybe he's just never been to that part of town. He doesn't really care one way or the other.

"A shame. Everyone is welcome at Guilty Pleasures," he responds, and it almost sounds like something of a tagline he may have repeated before.

Guilty Pleasures. God, are all vampires this gross? Finnick rolls his eyes. "I'm sure they are," he says, with a hint of skepticism. The only ones vampires might not want in their clubs are the ones who don't taste good - they have no one to protect themselves from just by virtue of existing. The fae are much different, so much more delicate by nature even if they are gifted with magic.

This is a concept that Finnick is becoming increasingly more aware of the longer this vampire talks to him. He's not sure why he approached him to begin with, other than perhaps to promote his awful-sounding club (it's owned by a vampire, which makes it awful okay), and it's a struggle for Finnick not to just bolt.

Jean-Claude flickers a smile at the other. He'd have to be pretty thick indeed in order to miss how uncomfortable he's obviously making Finnick feel in the moment. Of course, he is fae, so he has his reasons. Though he wonders if there is any basis of fact behind any of the squirming.

Luckily, although Jean-Claude is vain, he's not vain enough to take offense at such discrimination. Fae will be fae, he supposes. Some more progressive than others. "You seem troubled," he conjectures. Even before his own arrival, he hardly seemed to be enjoying himself. "Do you resent this promotion of yours?"

There certainly is basis of fact, but it's nothing Finnick is intent on sharing with anyone, let alone some random vampire who happened to show up at a party in Finnick's honour.

"I didn't ask for it," he replies vaguely. It's not an affirmative or a contradiction.

The fae obviously has very little opinion of him, but Jean-Claude isn't going to let that stop him. It's rare that he finds himself in such a position, to speak so openly with a member of the fae court, either way.

"Very few smart people ever ask for a position of responsibility," he confirms. He should know, after all. He hadn't asked for his own. It had rather been thrust upon him instead.

"And it seems to corrupt so many," he says with a sigh. He's not sure how much faith he has in himself to keep from giving in to that desire for power, but from where he's standing now it all just seems so horrendous and overwhelming. He doesn't want to be a politician, as good as he may be at it. At least once a day he considers just running away from this city; that doesn't seem to be a good quality for someone involved in the politics of the Underground.

Ironically, for all that Finnick may disapprove of Jean-Claude, they share the same ideas of politics. He did not much care to become involved in them himself. He was instead pushed into a seat of power because he was simply too old to be doing anything else. Other than dying, he supposed, but he wasn't much keen on that either. Of course, one of the easiest ways to find yourself killed is to put yourself into politics on the Underground as well. Hence why Jean-Claude had really preferred to stay away.

"It is less true that power corrupts than it is that corrupt people are easily drawn to power," Jean-Claude replies. "If you are fearing for yourself in that regard, then I doubt you truly have anything to worry about."

Finnick feels himself relaxing a little with the change in topic, but he's still hyper-aware that Jean-Claude is vampire, and he doesn't relax completely. As for the topic at hand, he remains unconvinced.

"I don't think even good people are totally immune," he says, frowning at the ground. "I may not be that old, but I'm old enough to have seen it happen."

(open) hell is deep lord, but we're heading deeper

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