undergrounds | (no subject)

1. His plans for London mostly went like this: try to avoid dying, and don't make any unnecessary enemies. Simple, straightforward, and unfortunately, harder than one might hope considering Millicent's recent edicts. Let's kill humans, let's kill werewolves, let's piss off half the known factions. The vampires back home didn't exactly value lives, and certainly most of them wouldn't care about humans or werewolves, but at least they valued subtlety.

His concern, of course, was that when those other factions got angry they wouldn't target the one who had made the edict, but rather, the ones that were far more accessible and easier to kill. Namely the newer vampires, like himself. Not that he was going to hole away and hide. Instead, he was going to head out and go drinking. After all, if all of this led to an all out war, Thomas might as well enjoy things before they got worse. Besides, maybe hitting the bars he'd learn something useful. Or meet a delectable new friend. Having relocated, he did need to rebuild a network of people he could rely on for a bite, after all.

That was his excuse, at least, for going to the bar, throwing back cheap alcohol (why pay more when nothing tasted right, after all), and flirting with anyone who caught his eye.

2. After dining on a nice young lady that night, Thomas noticed she seemed a bit woozy, like maybe he'd had too much to drink. Or maybe she had, since he did notice her drinking a glass of wine before she'd gone with him. Either way, he was not letting her walk home on her own. That was why he currently was walking around the dark streets of London, a woman leaning heavily against him, quietly directing him to her apartment.

An apartment where, apparently, the entrance that she needed was around the side of the building, toward the back. Well, in that case he was particularly glad he didn't let her walk back on her own, he thought as she directed them into the dark, secluded area. This certainly didn't seem like the best area for a woman who couldn't even walk straight. He focused on their surroundings more, taking advantage of the fact that he could see just fine in this lack of light to keep an eye out for potential dangers.

3. The downside to needing to operate at night, of course, was the fact that most businesses were only open during the day. This meant that Thomas had to wake up as soon as the sun set sometimes, and rush out to get any errands done that he needed to get done, unless he wanted to use the last few minutes of darkness in the morning. That, however, left the risk of the sun rising while he was out, which was far too dangerous.

Which, of course, left him with a very impatient cashier at the local beauty supply store as he decided just what product would be the best to take care of his gorgeous, perfect locks.

"Come on, we close in five minutes," he heard her snap, and so he grabbed both bottles he was looking at.

Slowly sauntering out of the aisle, one bottle in each hand, Thomas made eye contact with the woman, a slow, apologetic smile creeping across his features. "I'm sorry," he said, "You didn't have my usual brand, and I wasn't sure what to go with. Although I suppose with hair as lovely as yours, I should have just come to you for advice in the first place."

Because flattery and flirtation were the way to get out of every problem...including getting a few more minutes to make shopping decisions.

4. Choose Your Own Adventure

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Natasha nods once at that, as much in acknowledgement as agreement. She couldn't say it was what she was used to, but neither was this.

"That's smarter," she says. "At least you're not making you're own problems that way." Her lips twitch toward a smile then. "Don't say I said so, though."

He returned a small smile in return. "I won't."

He looked at his beer a moment, thinking about things. "So you mentioned you weren't in a nest. Are you on your own, then?"

It seemed...lonely, to say the least. He may not like or trust everyone in the nest, and he might not like the current turmoil, but he did appreciate the fact that being part of one meant he didn't have to deal with things on his own.

"Depends what you mean by on my own." Natasha swirls her drink, then takes a long swallow before she says more—because it is lonely, whether or not she's actually on her own. She's never been so without her own kind.

Maybe that was why she kept finding excuses to talk to them.

"I have a job at the Redbright institute. It's something." Pays the bills. Means that she might not be entirely on her own if push comes to shove.

"Well, I didn't really mean a job, exactly." He meant more...someone having your back. But then, he never heard of the Redbright Institute. "So what is that, anyway? Some sort of college?"

One of the things he didn't know, because he wasn't around here that long as of yet.

"That's what I have at the moment." She knows it's not what he meant, and she regrets not having that security. At the same time, having a nest to watch your back doesn't mean not having to watch your back—it just means knowing where the knife will come from.

"It's a school, though. For special kids."

"What?" His brow furrowed as he thought about that. Since they were vampires, talking about having others have your back, he figured she didn't mean what most people would mean when they said that. Which was why his mind went to the only place it could go in that situation.

"You mean like the C-Dudes?"

Because naturally, comic books were the natural place for his mind to go.

"C-dudes?" Natasha echoes him, not following his mind. "Mostly it's for young people with gifts. If that's what you call them, then sure."

"It's a comic book reference. There's a comic book I read as a kid that it reminded me of." He realized, belatedly, that she might not get a comic book reference if she was...well, an ancient (compared to him) vampire that didn't keep up on pop culture references. "But yes, that's what I meant."

Her brows draw together. She might not be an ancient, but comic books had never featured highly in her cultural exposure. Things a girl misses out on because of communism, she supposes.

She doesn't really pretend that she follows even now.

"It hasn't been a bad gig so far. I'd like to think I've made a couple of friends."

"Friends are always good to have."

And if they were people with powers, who were in the know on the supernatural, then maybe she couldn't really be considered 'on her own'.

Then, grinning, he added, "I always try to get friendly with the locals wherever I go."

Okay, not the same thing, really, since that usually ended in him sampling their blood as well.

"Oh, I bet you do," Natasha returns playfully. They both recognize that he's a flirt, and she's willing to pretend that's what she means. But for a vampire, human connections are necessary as well. Whether you're friends or servants is a matter of personal taste and habit, but you need someone.

"Have you made many friends in London so far?"

"Oh," he said with a flash of his brilliant white teeth, "A few, but I definitely would like to meet more."

After all, he had to give his new 'friends' time to recover from the loss of blood before he fed from them again.

"I don't doubt that." She scans the crowd pointedly, recalling how he'd been working it before she got his attention.

"Should I let you get back to that?"

He eyes follow hers to the crowd. He really should get back to that, since he hadn't fed that night, and he didn't want to risk going hungry.

"As much as I enjoyed our conversation, I really should. I suppose I'll see you around, then?" he asked, getting up and ready to work the crowd again.

"See you around," she echoes, letting him go. Natasha is reasonably sure he won't get in too much trouble tonight. Not that you could always tell with their kind—but if nothing else, she didn't take him for someone looking for trouble.