undergrounds | Royal Pain in the- {backdated to the 20th}

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Royal Pain in the- {backdated to the 20th}

The request for discretion in the matter of the kidnapping and rescue didn't surprise him. It happened quite a bit, especially for those who were higher profile in the London social circles - both supernatural and not. The divulging of who was actually in trouble and who they were related to, however, had Daryl walking on a tight rope while trying to track down whatever leads he could.

[ooc: kidnapping plot I was supposed to put log up for last week. Sorry for the late!]

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"Pretty sure. 'Girl' is 67 and just happened to frequent the bar she got escorted from a couple times a week," he leaned back as he explained, fingers picking at the cloth napkin next to his plate. "She's a regular human, no connections to our world. She's just public enough in the upper social circles that sticking around longer than a few decades could cause a problem, but not so public that she gets paid undo attention when at pubs."

Age wasn't a disqualifying factor. She wouldn't be the first person to turn later in life—though usually when it happened, the human was the one who sought it out to start with. Vampires themselves tended to be drawn to people still young and full of juice.

"Good to know. That'll make them easier to spot."

Natasha didn't seem opposed to helping him, but he still didn't know if she was with the Nest or if she'd commit to anything specific just yet. And so far he'd been the one laying his cards on the table. Before he told her anything more, he really needed to know he could trust her on this.

"If I give you the name I was given, and you know it, will you point me in the right direction?"

"If I can. I can't make any promises." She doesn't want to give him any false hope. Her contacts in the Islington nest are few and it's hard to say what they'll give her when she comes asking. "I'm not part of the nest. But I might be able to get you a lead—a name, something like that."

There was a shift in the set of his shoulders when she said she wasn't with the Nest. But that was the only outward sign he hadn't been sure of that.

"Lucius Vonnor. That's who supposedly did this," he said, eyes shifting behind her before he lifted his chin in warning that the waiter was on his way.

She smiles. That's all she needed to know for now anyway. Either she'll find out where he is from the name, or she won't be able to help.

She leans back, murmuring thanks to the waiter as he lays their food in front of them and assuring him that everything looks wonderful. She doesn't address Daryl again until he's gone.

"I'll call you before sunrise. Sound fair?"

"Yeah. Sure," he agreed as he leaned forward again. This time to grab his fork and start digging into his steak. He would have been a lot more comfortable eating with his hands and ripping into it with sharper teeth, but he managed to keep his eating polite. Even if it wasn't quite bloody and raw enough for his taste, it was still pretty good.

"You been doing okay?"

Do forgive him as he licks his fingers, though, won't you, Nat?

She smiles slightly as she watches him, somehow finding it in herself to look past his table manners. She'd call it a cat thing, but she's not entirely sure it's that.

"No complaints, at least. It's been a rough month, but keeping out of trouble. I'm not here for trouble."

Daryl nodded, a small one that didn't interrupt his eating. He waited until he'd had a good half the steak gone and was reaching for his water before he spoke again, keeping his head down as he looked over at her and asked, "How's your meal?"

He was trying to fill the silence more than anything else. But he wasn't really sure what else to say right then since the business part had been concluded for the time being.

"Want a bite?" she asks, pushing her plate toward him invitingly. She's eaten much less quickly than he has, not having a particular appetite but going through the motions. The lamb shank is clearly high quality and well prepared, and she can appreciate the flavor and texture even if it does even less to satisfy her thirst than the whiskey does.

"I'm almost certainly not going to finish it, but it's good."

Daryl's eyes darted around to make sure no one was looking their way before he stretched his arms over to cut a small piece off and give it a try. It was pretty juicy, though even less raw than his own meal and for that lacked the flavor he often craved.

"Not bad," he agreed, though he didn't make any motions to go and grab more. "Ain't bloody enough, though.

Natasha shrugs at that, her smile turning... not exactly strained, but less honest. More rueful. "Never is," she says, pulling her plate back and taking another bite. "It's better this way."

He watched her for a long moment as she went back to eating. He hadn't been paying attention before, but now that he was, he could tell how unsatisfying her meal was. More so than his own. He didn't mind the occasional cooked mean, was even decent sometimes. But Natasha... she had a taste for blood. And only blood.

"You uh... you don't get enough to eat or something?" He asked, trying to skirt saying anything explicit. He assumed she fed on other people, but the way she was talking...

Apparently Natasha gave away more than she intended. It's a statement about how much that weighed on her mind, she supposes. She shrugs of his question, not going to get angry at herself about it.

"That depends on what you mean by not eating enough," she tells him, also very aware of the fact they're in public. "I've been trying to change my diet." She smiles very slightly, glancing up at him around another bite of lamb. "So far, it hasn't been entirely satisfying."

If that wasn't code for 'feeding on animals' he didn't know what could be. Daryl chewed at his lip for a moment before offering a grunt and a nod to indicate he understood what she was saying. Couldn't much get around the whole not being satisfied by non-human blood thing. Saying he hoped it would get better would probably sound patronizing.

And since he didn't want to say that an didn't know what else to say, he fell silent while he finished his meal.

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Royal Pain in the- {backdated to the 20th}

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