There's a place I know I can always go (Open)

[longterm]

It's been a while since Cesare was last in London. He had...other issues to attend to in other countries. But now that he's back, he wants to immerse himself in his surroundings. Cesare is not exactly the type of man to spend any extended period of time with strangers so voluntarily, but he wants to pick up the pulse of London again, see how it's moving nowadays. And where better to do that than on his home turf?

Cesare is lurking in a corner of a lounge at The Angelo, sitting in an armchair and sipping an Old Fashioned (the irony isn't lost on him). He doesn't look particularly remarkable, at least when compared to the hotel's typical clientèle of businessmen in suits and high flyers with a little too much time on their hands. In fact, Cesare has gone out of his way to blend in. He holds a paper as if he actually cares about standard current affairs and looks at his phone every so often as if he finds it useful and not newfangled and pointless. You would probably have to know who Cesare was to spot him. Constantly, though, he's watching.

A. Can I buy you a drink?
Eventually someone catches his eye at the bar. Are they familiar? Does Cesare know them? Perhaps. Do they just seem interesting? Just as possible.

Cesare leaves his paper on the lounge chair and sits himself down next to them. He smirks, his manner calm and collected. You're in his home. He's comfortable.

"What do you drink?"

B. What are you doing here?
Someone is here who shouldn't be. They could be an old foe who has grown over confident with Cesare's absence. They could be the wrong type of person for this type of hotel. They could simply not have paid.

Either way, they shouldn't be here. Cesare quietly makes his way up to them. When he speaks, his tone is polite and cordial but there's something slightly too piercing about his gaze and he's standing a little too close to them for comfort.

"Something tells me you might be lost."

C. Can I speak to a manager?
Someone isn't happy. In fact, they are really quite frustrated. One of the hotel staff has messed up royally and someone is demanding that they speak to a higher up about it. This needs to be fixed. Something has to be done and Cesare is happy enough to oblige. With his façade of a casual hotel guest ruined he smiles as the waiter anxiously frets.

"I'm certain that we can sort this out."

D. Pick your own adventure! Choose something else!

Comments

[baisant]

Jean-Claude tilts his head at the other man and offers him something of a smile at that. Is there booze?

"My dear friend," he says, "what do you take me for? What kind of a club would I be running, to have exotic dancers but no alcohol to loosen the wallets of my patrons? Of course there is 'booze', as you say. In fact," he adds, leaning against the bar, propping his chin on his hand as he does, "if you have any requests, I will be sure to have such things in stock. Should you decide to grace us with your presence." Again the flicker of a smile, to show that he is only just teasing.

Unlike Cesare, Jean-Claude is all flirt, all the time, after all. There was a time when he was a romantic, but his heart has been broken, and his master has taught him in the most brutal way she could that a true connection like that is a weakness. But why not enjoy each other in the now? Who knows what the next day might bring, after all.

[longterm]

Cesare lets out a quick laugh before sticking his tongue into his cheek in thought and looking down at the business card. He reaches forward and takes it, before putting it into his suit pocket.

"I'll have Cameron Brig. Dalwhinnie at a push." If Jean-Claude is joking about special requests, Cesare doesn't care. He wants good scotch. If he didn't have an opportunity to have it before, he's making one. Give Cesare an inch and he'll take a mile.

"I hope they're good dancers." Because Cesare is obviously visiting to see the ladies' dancing ability. Of course.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude would probably be lying if he were to say that he weren't pleased with the fact that the other vampire had taken the card at last. So he doesn't say anything about it at all.

Instead he raises his eyebrows at the other man's requests, before shrugging slightly. He'll see what can be done. At the mention of his dancers offers him the opportunity to focus his attentions elsewhere anyway.

"Do you doubt my taste?" he asks.

[longterm]

"In women? Yes. Though I remember you having a pretty good eye for talent, so I'm hoping that will cover you."

He smirks. He doesn't believe Jean-Claude is so gay that he can't understand what a beautiful woman looks like, but Cesare does think that Jean-Claude might lack the nuance of the deciding exactly who belongs where on stage. Cesare is a reasonably forward thinking man, but he is old and a little archaic at times. He's not going to hide his opinion that at least in strip clubs and other similar establishments, looks are exceedingly important.

"We'll have to see: when is your next event?"

[baisant]

Jean-Claude resists the urge to roll his eyes at the other vampire. Italians. They think they know everything about women, wine, and love. Does not he realize that he is speaking to a Frenchman? There is a reason they call Paris the city of love and it is not because of the architecture.

He drums his fingers on the bartop as if contemplating his answer. Two can play at this game though, Cesare. Jean-Claude tosses back the rest of his drink and moves to stand, offering the other vampire a sideways smile. "Perhaps you should call and find out."