undergrounds | Semi-open: May 05

Who: Lancelot and friends!
What: It's a birthday party! With both regular people and supernatural types. What could go wrong?
When: May 05
Where: Lancelot's flat & garden, Richmond!
Warnings: Gratuitous doggy! Probably a punch up later. Possibly some drunk kissing.

Lancelot's garden is not exactly an acre-large tented paradise.

He's not made of money.

It's big enough to just about fit the people invited across the patio and grass, with Lily variously herding them and rolling around, and he's flitting between them and the kitchen and living room and generally doing his best to butterfly around all of them making sure they're happy. The garden is relatively tidy, as tidy and well kept as a garden that suffers an enthusiastic dog can be. The hedges are neatly trimmed, the tree in one corner healthy and big enough to throw a little shade, and the one flowerbed border seems to mostly have some roses that are yet to fully bloom.

For those who he's only known since the incident last year he's given them a warning: not everyone who will be there is aware of the supernatural side of things, so try not to blurt it to people you don't know.

Despite it being his own birthday Lancelot is, of course, playing host. There's a table set up outside with finger food, salads, drinks and all sorts -- and food strategically inside for those who can't be out in the sun too. He appears to still be checking on more in the oven every so often too, but Lancelot does like to cook -- and he seems quite focused on making sure everyone has something they could eat.

Some of the drinks are alcoholic. The punch isn't that strong, but he has a few other drinks along the side for people who want them and some bottles of beer in an ice bucket. If someone decides to do a little mixing of course then it might wind up stronger.

His sound system is playing the soothing strains of Dire Straits through the place and all in all, for now at least things are going smoothly. So long as nobody says the wrong thing to the wrong person, it will probably be a nice evening. With the mixture of factions present alongside those who have no idea what a faction is, of course... that may be difficult.

[ OOC: Feel free to mingle away on the post with others here! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Being a witch wasn't something Nancy hid. It was just who she was, and honestly, assumed most people at this point guessed something like it. It was an easier way to protect yourself from vampires, that way. At least, she had a better chance out on the job than your run-of-the-mill human.

So she shrugs. "I am, yeah. So if you do need anything at any point..." she'd made daylight rings before- she still had one waiting for a friend that had disappeared, in hopes he'd return. "I've got some of the best prices in town."

"I'll keep that in mind." Because being able to actually go out in the sun would make things a lot easier. Sometimes there weren't ways to get around it. Or the risk was too high.

"I suppose I'm not actually surprised." Natasha likely would have figured it out on her own, if she'd called Nancy back. So that was still on Natasha. "You seemed like you knew a thing or two."

Nancy taps the side of her nose. "I'm older for my age." Which was something she didn't necessarily like to advertise. People thought less of her, made rather apt judgements when they learned she was only nineteen.

"Oh, I'm sure you are." The answer comes lightly, not without a little irony. Age meant different things to vampires—more in some ways, and less in others. Natasha was still young as vampires counted things, still an age humans might live to see, but at the same time it would be very hard to find a human who had anything like shared life experience.

"You'd have to be."

she has to smile a little. "I'm glad you understand." some people- Arthur, was the first to come to mine- didn't really see it that way.

But what did you expect from a wealthy (by her standards) human male that didn't know the half of her life story? Natasha didn't, but she got it.

Natasha shrugs at that. Hard to say she really understood when she didn't know the context. She was willing to accept it, though. She was also willing to put a pin in it and come back to the subject later, when they knew each other a little better and there were fewer ears around.

She returns the smile.

For now, safer topics. Hopefully, at least. "So how do you know the birthday boy?"

okay, not that safe of a topic.

"We met when he was on patrol. He stopped to make sure I wasn't up to no good." Which she had been. "Few weeks later and he helped me with a tight spot. He's a good guy, despite working for the council."

It's all right. Natasha has a contingency plan for just in case that ended up being touchy too. After a while, she started coming up with back ups.

"He seems to be," Natasha agrees. "That's more interesting than my story. I ran into him when he was walking his dog."

Lily cannot possibly be a dangerous topic, can she?

"She wasn't entirely sure what to make of me at first, but she warmed up fairly quickly. I suppose he had to follow suit?"

She laughs again and takes a drink. "That's kind of what Lily seems to serve as. A giant fluffy icebreaker. I guess it's true what they say about dogs attracting women."

Seriously though, Lily is great.

"I'm glad you came."

"I guess I'm a little bit of a cliche that way."

Among others. It was almost funny. Or sad. Natasha wasn't sure which, and she'd leave the question unanswered.

"So am I. It's—nice?"

"Aren't we all?" She could admit that.

"Nice is a good word for it, yeah. Gives us both someone to talk to, a chance to get to know each other better."

"It's true. Nice isn't something I've gotten a lot of. I can see the appeal."

Natasha finishes her drink to cover the awkwardness of that admission. she perhaps shouldn't have said that.

"I think I need another drink."

"I wouldn't think either of us have gotten much nice." Nancy follows Natasha's lead, finishing her own drink.

"Yeah- I could go for another one, as well."

"In that case..." Natasha starts to drift toward where Lancelot has kindly left out food and alcohol, walking slowly.

"I do get that feeling—I guess it's not a surprise. Happens to a lot of people.""

She follows after Natasha, her platforms surprisingly quiet on the floor. She'd always had a light step.

"Unfortunately. Though I hoped I'd hide it better." She had a long history of terrible things happening to her, and she wasn't sure it would end any time soon.

"Sorry," Natasha offers, grabbing a bottle of beer and popping the cap. "I wouldn't say it's that you're doing a bad job hiding it."

Natasha shrugs.

"We don't have to talk about it. Seems like that might be something for a quieter time."

Semi-open: May 05

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