[open] some nights, i call it a draw

[outstandingbalance]

I. Redbright Institute: night

Even knowing about their open door policy, Natasha hadn't entirely believed they'd take her. She isn't a student, for one thing, or even student passing. For another, she's a vampire. Vampires are't known for getting open invitations from other factions; at least not knowingly. Not without good reason. Mostly, though, she's never been exposed to anything quite like the institute before. She'd applied to join the outreach group as a wild grab, an attempt to have anyone at her back to keep her from being seen as a loner or a feral. Being either of those is a good way to end up with a target on her back.

And maybe, if she allows herself to think about it, the open door policy had sounds nice. It sounds like the direction she wanted to take. Everyone welcome as long as they play by the rules, keep the peace and keep their secrets. Natasha isn't the kind to let herself think that way too much, though, or get too optimistic.

Either way, it's a surprise when she's accepted.

She still fosters that surprise as she gives herself a tour of the grounds. It's in her carriage as she walks between buildings or down the halls; not overt confusion or surprise, but a little bit of skepticism, a little bit of caution, holding herself somehow a little reserved from her surroundings. Despite her years of training, there's still an air about her of someone who's not sure they belong, or maybe who knows they don't.


II. A Bar: also night

It could be any number of bars. Natasha hits a lot of them. She always picks the quieter ones, places where you can hear people talk to you and talking to each other. She's not in a good place for loud music or excited kids, or to get caught up in fights. She doesn't want to go places that feel like hunting grounds.

The thing is, she's here in the first place because she's thirsty. She's always, constantly thirsty, and she's trying hard not to go after the one thing she really wants. So like a cigarette addict reaching for a stick of gum, Natasha wanders into a bar. Alcohol is not what she wants, but it's one of the few things she can tell herself helps, at least a little.

She's usually sitting at the counter. Most nights, she orders vodka tonics. Bad nights, it's scotch neat. She doesn't try to strike up conversations, but she listens. Almost as much as the alcohol, it helps to listen to the low murmur of conversation around her. It's a reminder that the other patrons are real people, with lives and goals, things they want and look forward to, even if it's just a new job or getting in to pants of the girl at the coffee shop. It makes them more real, somehow.

So no, it's not a perfect coping mechanism, but it helps.


III. On A Night Bus: missed your train, didn't you?

There's a good mix of people on the bus tonight. A few kids toward the back on their way home from a party, looking tired and far from sober, but happy. A few older passengers coming back from bars, all seated alone and ranging from a professional looking woman sitting primly toward to front, brief case across her knees and gin martins on he breath, to a rough looking man slumped against one window, a nascent black eye just starting the darken his face.

Natasha's not sure what started the fight. It couldn't have been something anyone said, because she'd have heard it. One moment it's quiet. The next, a football fan and a derelict are climbing up into the aisle, in each others' faces and cursing. The bus driver calls back for them to settle down, but they don't.

It's not really that big of a deal—at least not in Natasha's mind. They're both just human. But the fight escalates, and the homeless man pushes the football fan hard just as the bus starts to slow to a jarring stop, and sends the fan stumbling toward her and the person seated next to her. It's reflex and instinct, that pull Natasha to her feet, bearing up to keep the fan on his feet and off their laps.

Which means that just for an instant, the person next to Natasha might get the view of a small woman catching a man a full head and more taller than her, from falling, keeping her balance in heels even as the night bus lurches to a stop. It's just a second, but if someone's watching, the'll see when she releases the lapse in her masquerade and remembers to stagger just a little under the man's weight, wobbling a little.

Then she shrugs free of the football fan, disengaging with a glare before she sits back down.

To whoever's sitting next to her, she gives an apologetic smile and plays it off smoothly, "Always something like that, isn't there?"

There's a faint Russian accent on her words, nothing that would interfere with clarity. The look that accompanies her words is innocent, as though nothing strange happened at all.


IV. Wildcard
((Hit me up at sarosaron if you have another idea.))

Comments

Redbright Institute

[fatherswatch]

There's a new scent in the air. It's something that catches Illya's attention on his night rounds. He does them twice a week now -- it used to be more, but he also has to monitor other things as a Guardian, so his security work here has been cut back somewhat. Still, he knows the smell of death, and he follows it carefully, cutting a few turns off so he can turn a corner and face the newcomer.

What he is will be obvious. Vampires and werewolves know each other.

"Do you have any identification?" he asks. It's not overtly hostile. Or, at least, he doesn't mean for it to be. Most people would hear the Russian accent, see the large stature, and assume complete hostility. "May I see it?"

[outstandingbalance]

Natasha isn't most people. The accent gives her pause, but not because she finds it intimidating. She left Moscow for a reason, and that does worry her. But even with her enemies in the nest there, she doesn't think they'd reach out to a werewolf. She'd have been more worried if he were human, oddly enough.

When she responds, it's in Russian—clearly her first language—and colored with a certain dark humor.

"Are you really asking for my papers," she asks, reaching into the inner pocket of her jacket calmly. As though she wouldn't have something. What she produces is a passport and a few loose sheets from her recent interview about joining. It's the best she has at the moment. "The birthday is fake. The name isn't."

[fatherswatch]

"Da," he responds. The Russian... Well, honestly, it's nice to hear. He doesn't hear it enough lately. Not for years. How long has he been away from his home? Long enough that he actually smiles a little and continues in their shared language. "I would ask any stranger, but I am particularly inclined to be suspicious of a beautiful woman."

So far as he's concerned, it's a simple statement of fact. A beautiful woman, especially a vampire, ought to be considered dangerous.

Her passport gets only a cursory look; it's the interview sheets he really pays attention to. And they meet his required level of scrutiny before he hands them back and gives a nod.

"Welcome to the staff, then. Illya Kuryakin, night security."

[outstandingbalance]

"Kuryakin," she repeats, glancing over his face and taking in his build. She knows the family name. She doesn't know him specifically, though. Not that surprising. She's been working on a lower level for some time now. For a beat, she considers whether or not to acknowledge the name.

She dismisses the idea though, shifting the direction away from politics back in Russia.

"They must be serious about security here." She changes to English then, her accent faint but still recognizable. Her English is very good. "You don't look like a rent-a-cop."

[fatherswatch]

His English is less polished, but he knows the language well, and he offers a faint shrug.

"I recently became a Guardian for the Night Council as well. So it helps to know who is where."

[outstandingbalance]

"I imagine it might." Her lips tighten slightly as she considers his answer, looking him over again. She doesn't mistake his demeanor for aggression. If he wanted to be threatening, there wouldn't be any question about it. She wasn't expecting to run into Russian werewolves working for the Night Council, though. She's not entirely sure what to make of it.

Other than that the world has changed a lot in the past few decades.

"That actually makes it stranger. Very important title for a night watchman. Is it working out for you?—knowing who's where."

[fatherswatch]

"It makes action easier," he responds with a shrug.

It was strange, yes, to still be here in addition to the Night Council, but he was originally assigned here, and Redbright hadn't released him from his duties. So, he worked some nights, when the Guardians didn't need him. Plus it kept him close to part of his objective from Waverly as well.

"Though little has been necessary so far."

[outstandingbalance]

"Are things that quiet around here?" She glances around them, indicating the school grounds or maybe beyond them, the surrounding areas of London. Maybe the city itself.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't interested in the perspective another Russian would have on the situation here, though she wasn't about to come out and admit as much.

[fatherswatch]

"For now." To another Russian, he feels like there's more he can say. Besides, she needs to know the current climate, just like he needed to know it. He had Waverly to tell him, so he can tell her. At least what a security guard and Guardian should know.

"They're preparing for an election. So everyone's waiting more than doing anything."

[outstandingbalance]

"An honest one?" One of her brows kicks up a little as she asks, not quite skeptical but not assuming that it is either. She has to wonder, though. The political implications are less on her mind than the practical differences in the atmosphere. Things will be a lot more tense around here if there's perceived corruption. Depending on who's behind it, or who people think are behind it, that could mean hostility.

All this goes through her head, but she reminds herself that regardless of the answer, she's keeping a low profile.

[fatherswatch]

"An election."

He repeats it with a faint smile. Because, well, he has no doubt it will be as honest an election as it's possible to be. But politics are politics, and that makes everything inherently messy. Especially with the conflicts brewing.

[outstandingbalance]

"So at least a little dirty." She's Russian. She expects politics to be at least a little dirty.

"Thanks for the warning," she adds, her smile a little rueful. "I know how to keep my head down."

[fatherswatch]

"Your new employer," after all, not everyone does their homework, "is also president of the Night Council. So expect plenty of it in the school as well."

Because why would she bother to keep the two separate? It does her no good, not with how this community is. Best a newcomer be warned.

[outstandingbalance]

Some people do not do their homework, but Natasha isn't one of them. Not that there's any reason for Illya to know that. She doesn't correct him either, though the flatness of her expression and the way her smile half fades might be a hint.

"So I should expect to see election banners and people handing out buttons soon?"

[fatherswatch]

"It would not surprise me. Even if not in the school, then in the rest of the area, certainly."

Nothing too worrying, so far as he knew. He doubted there'd be much trouble for the candidates. Trouble, at least, that was the sort he was used to dealing with. But as a Guardian, he'd keep his eye out anyway.

[outstandingbalance]

"I think I can handle that." Not that she expected anyone to offer her pamphlets or speeches specifically. Vampires weren't exactly known for their democratic souls. It wasn't like she was going to vote anyway.

It was the political tableau it created which mattered to her, and she appreciated knowing it. It was also good to know who was supposed to be keeping order around here.

"I'm planning to keep a low profile anyway." Which went for the election, and more generally.