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

[thelittlemerman]

[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)

Comments

[falsify]

[Oh gross, it's touching him.]

[Eames keeps his disgust hidden easily, keeping that easy smile on his face and moving as directed to see this Stephen dancing away. He nods and looks back to Jean-Claude with a gentle quirk of his lips in a kind of shrug.]

Consider me satisfied.

[baisant]

[Jean-Claude doesn't linger any longer than is appropriate, although he's Jean-Claude, so of course it wouldn't be touching if it weren't a little suggestive. He wasn't Belle Morte's personal plaything for so many centuries for nothing, after all.]

I do my best to play by the rules when I can. [He murmurs to the other man, voice quiet to match the less savory conversation topics.] He knows not to wander off too far. I know how short my leash extends in these parts. [Was that word choice deliberate? Probably. Once again, this is Jean-Claude.]

[falsify]

[Eames raises an eyebrow, admittedly curious about how much of Jean-Claude's overall suggestiveness is trying to make him uncomfortable, how much is intention, and how much is just him. He smirks and crosses his arms again, considering the Earl.]

I must say, it's always refreshing to meet a vampire who knows their place.

[baisant]

[A lot of it really is just him. He does enjoy being overly suggestive, but then he enjoys just as much following through on said suggestions as well.]

What can I say? I aim to please. [Jean-Claude quirks a smirk at the fae, dipping something of a little bow before standing up straight again. Yes, he's a little shit, and he enjoys every moment of it.]

[falsify]

Oh yeah? [Eames cants his head with a smirk of his own, and he spreads his arm in a gesture at everything around them.] How pleased is your nest with you cavorting around with the likes of us?

[baisant]

[Jean-Claude offers the fae something of a gallic shrug.]

Who doesn't love a party?

[falsify]

You'd be surprised. [He tilts his head toward Jean-Claude, voice a little hushed as if imparting a secret.] Parties are in my blood, but even I get a little bored of it from time to time.

[baisant]

Mmm. [Jean-Claude hums underneath his breath. It's true, there are some parties he has enjoyed less than others. Vampires know how to take the fun out of everything, for example. To make it all about the hierarchy. It is all a game of politics.]

You do not know how the grass grows on the other side, mon ami. I think you would find yourself enjoying such affairs as this much more if you did. [Alas, the fae were not generally invited to vampire gatherings for... Well, obvious reasons.]

[falsify]

Oh, this? This is a good party. [As sour as he is about the circumstances, he can admit that much.] But Lady Isolde turns 2,000 and suddenly it's like I'm back in 16-fucking-45? That's not a good party. That's more harpsichords than any person should ever own.