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The Other Mayor of London

The OTHER MAYOR OF LONDON invites you to a night to remember...

Hosted at The Angelo in the heart of Islington (courtesy of Cesare Borgia), Raymond Harris invites you all to join him on the night of Saturday, 6th August to celebrate his self-proclaimed ascension as the Other Mayor of London. His aims are threefold: to stake his claim as the most powerful supernatural being in the city, to persuade other interested factions to ally with him, and to intimidate his enemies with a show of extravagance. All members of the Islington Nest are expected to work hard tonight to achieve these goals.

The party officially begins at 20:39 when the sun sets and ends at 05:34 when the sun rises. Of course, there's no guarantee that everyone will make it until dawn...

Rules of entry
• This is a black tie event. Anyone who fails to wear the appropriate attire will be denied entry.
• No stakes or other vampire-killing weapons. That's just rude.
• No more than five werewolves and shapeshifters will be admitted in total. Raymond wants them to witness his power, but not to spoil his party. They will be closely watched and likely mocked by the surrounding vampires.

Raymond is guarded by his vampire henchmen at all times. Any perceived threat will be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly.

Places to go
Once you're admitted to the hotel, you'll walk into the lobby, where you're free to mingle with the other guests. It's here that you're likely to first spot the party's human contingent: a collection of young and beautiful men and women whose sole purpose is to provide a live food source for the vampires. Dressed in uniform black suits and cocktail dresses, they will offer up their wrists and/or necks to anyone who wants them.

From there, you can head over to the bar for a more relaxed and cordial atmosphere. Drinks are free until midnight; after that you'll have to pay. The bar does not serve blood; it's expected that vampire guests will drink directly from their nearest human.

If you're looking for something a little more substantial, try the tea room where you'll be served tea, coffee or red wine, and a selection of cherry tomato canapes, strawberries and scones with jam and clotted cream.

The main action, however, takes place in the ballroom. Red mood lighting continues the general theme and live music will be playing all night. Professional dancers provide entertainment in the early evening, but it won't be long before the ballroom is crowded with party-goers revelling in the fun, free and wild atmosphere. This is where you may find Raymond, the benevolent host watching over his guests. Drink and be merry. He wants everyone to have a good time.

(You can check the OOC plotting thread for more info and to ask any questions about this event. Enjoy!)

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The self-proclaimed Mayor spends most of the night in the ballroom surrounded by lackeys, taking his own advice to eat, drink and be merry. He's charming and cordial with just about everyone he meets, even if there's a slight edge to the way he eyes up some of the less welcome guests.

Some time after midnight, those with sharp eyes may notice him disappear from the room with a certain Abigail Widdowson, Maiden of Witches and head of Circle Midnight. This is no romantic rendezvous, however: they're having a private meeting to discuss a potential alliance between the two factions.

He returns without Abigail and he'll say nothing about how it went, but privately Raymond is feeling rather pleased with himself. Now if only those pesky fae would be more reasonable...

The rules of polite society dictate that certain niceties must be observed at parties. One of the most very basic of these is that guests must greet their host. Joscelin thinks that Raymond is an opportunistic brute at best and a suicidally foolish one at worst (and has not exactly been quiet in his opinions, these past few weeks), but he still makes his way over to kiss the ring and play nice.

Raymond will get his due very shortly, but not now. Not with so many present.

"My lord," he says with a slightly haughty sneer and a short bow. "An excellent party, this. Well done."

Ah, it's the six-hundred year old child vampire. Raymond vaguely recalls him being accepted back into the nest. Millicent must have been going soft before she copped it. Of course his fellow pint-sized vampire won't have to worry about his status with Raymond in charge; he has already overturned the rule about turning under-16s into vampires. Not because Raymond has any plans to make Joscelin some immortal friends (as far as he's concerned children are nothing more than an annoyance), but why punish a vampire who accidentally turns a teenager? Or a vampire like Joscelin, who has been around long enough to be a valuable pawn.

So he smiles as Joscelin greets him, making a little room within his circle of vampires for the other vampire to approach.

"It serves a purpose." He raises his glass. "To Islington's rise to power. Cheers!"

The glass Joscelin raises is full of red wine, not blood. He finds this particular display rather beyond the realm of good taste, even for a vampire as generally violent as he is.

"Cheers," he echoes, still scornful.

"My Lord," and the words are acid in his mouth, "if you could spare a moment..."

Raymond doesn't miss the less-than-respectful tone, but nor does he blink an eye at it. The opinion of a low-ranked runt matters little to him.

"Yes?" he says, raising his eyebrows. An invitation for Joscelin to spit out whatever he has to say.

Speaking of those pesky fae--

Eames finds Raymond not long after he's finished speaking with Abigail, might as well hear the odious little parasite out since he's here "enjoying" the party. As much distaste as Eames has for the man of the hour, (and it's a lot,) he's all smiles and broad, friendly gestures as he approaches. It might be an act, and he expects Harris knows as much, but it looks genuine. For the benefit of the assembled, you know.

"Mr. Harris-!" He grins and offers a hand to shake, "thank you for the invitation."

Someone whispers in Raymond's ear as Eames approaches, informing him that this is the faery lord they're attempting to woo. Raymond doesn't know very much about fae which may explain his confidence in thinking that he can convince them to ally with him, but he does know that fae smiles and fae courtesies are not to be trusted.

"The Lord of Autumn!" His handshake is firm. "Delighted that you could make it, even before your season begins. How are you enjoying our little shindig?"

"It's very decadent, isn't it?" Again, tone positive even if he doesn't mean it positively. Eames has little interest in any of what's going on other than the open bar, but business calls. "I assume you didn't invite me just to enjoy the party though."

"Naturally." Naturally, he takes that as a compliment. Raymond is all for decadence. "And I may have another invitation for you... Come, sit down. Have a drink."

He's all smiles, gesturing for Eames to join him at a private table. 'Private' still meaning that they're flanked by Raymond's closest allies and guards. Sorry, Eames, you're going to be surrounded by vampires for a while yet.

It's to be expected, but it's still deeply unpleasant. He knows how alluring fae blood is, and being surrounded feels far too close to being on display in Smithfield, but he sits as directed with his congenial smile fixed in place.

"And what might that invitation be?"

If any of the vampires are thinking about eyeing up Eames' throat, they don't show it. The blood is flowing freely tonight and all the vampires here have had their fill. Still, one wouldn't volunteer to go into the lion's den even after all the lions have eaten. But here Eames is and Raymond doesn't at all mind if his guest feels a little uncomfortable. It gives him the upper hand.

Raymond sits back in his seat, meeting Eames' gaze directly. "The Night Council is finished. There's no one left there but a few old witches bickering over dusty old books. It's time for someone new to run this town. Islington and the fae, we've had our differences, the odd scrap here and there, but you and I both know that the real enemy is the one that waves a magic wand and declares you forbidden to set foot in half the city. So join us. We go on a witch hunt, you get your freedom and I get my crown. Win-win."

He smiles, taking a sip of his wine. It all sounds so obvious when he says it like that, doesn't it?

Wow, no preamble or anything, just straight to it. It's pretty much the only thing Harris has ever done that Eames has any modicum of respect for. It's about what he expected — why else invite him? — but he was kind of expecting to be buttered up a little first.

Respect or no, Eames has zero interest in an alliance with the Nest, and especially not one under his control. He raises his eyebrows and responds in a soft tone, one that'd almost be apologetic if it wasn't so clearly mocking. "Oh, Raymond. If only you'd done your research, you'd know this is a waste of time."

He closes his jacket, clearly intending to leave now he's gotten what he came for, "if that's all?"

Ah, no. Not so fast. Eames will find himself squashed rather tightly in his seat as a heavyset vampire joins the table next to him, effectively cutting him off from any exit. Raymond, it has to be said, has a hair-trigger temper and little patience for insults.

He wags his finger at Eames. "No, no, no, my friend, sit down. Take your time. Think about my offer; it will only be on the table once."

And yes, that is a threat.

Eames sighs heavily, a frown on his face as he settles back in his seat. If Raymond thinks this is going to make him change his mind though, he's deadly wrong. If anything, Eames is now pretty settled on the idea that he'll be using his dying breath to tell Raymond to go fuck himself.

"Let me be clearer, then." Eames' gaze is level, aware of the precarious situation, but apparently not caring at all, "even if I were interested in allying with you, the Queen would have my skin for it. And between us? She scares me a lot fucking more than you do."

The silence after this pronouncement is thick. Raymond sucks in a breath, then exhales, tapping his fingers on the table. The fae were always going to be an unknown quantity, but he hates failing.

Finally, he shrugs. "I see. What a pity. You see, if your Queen thought about this rationally, she would realise what a great opportunity you are about to throw away. You had already made up your mind before coming here, hadn't you? Which leaves me wondering why you accepted my invitation."

There's a dangerous edge to his tone. If Eames is here to spy he won't have had much luck since there's nothing here that Raymond wants to keep secret, but the mere notion of it does not sit well with Raymond.

"Curiosity, mostly." To see who else had been invited, who else he was trying court. The whole thing has honestly been a pretty big disappointment, but these things happen. "I suspected, sure. But I thought you'd have a little more to offer than carte blanche murder."

It's just unimaginative, to say the least.

But carte blanche murder is his favourite thing.

If Eames is disappointed, the feeling is mutual. Raymond shakes his head sadly, then indicates for the heavyset vampire next to Eames to stand up. "I offered you power, but you don't want to take it. Very well. Gentlemen, please escort his lordship from the premises. Party's over."

And that in his mind is that. He meant it when he said that the offer would only be on the table once. Three vampires stand up to escort Eames from the premises. They all know what to do. The moment they reach the courtyard outside the hotel, they'll attack. It means they'll be high on fae blood when they return, but that's a price worth paying.

Ah, if only he could be there to see the look on Eames' face when he wakes up in a dumpster half-drained of blood. Raymond finishes the last of his wine as he watches them retreat, a small smirk curving his lips. No, murder isn't his favourite thing. Revenge is.

It's not exactly difficult to get their fill; Eames isn't a pushover, but he's no match for three vampires getting him off-guard. Even after the (very brief) time it takes them to subdue him enough to actually bite him — and god does it hurt a hell of a lot more than he remembers — there's a mild amount of satisfaction in knowing that he's caused at least a few minor injuries. Nothing that'll last the night, but you take what you can get.

There's a trait they share though. When Eames eventually wakes up, he can't help but think what a mistake it was not to just kill him. You'd think the man would know how dangerous it is to get on the bad side of a fae, but Mr. Harris hasn't proven himself very knowledgeable tonight.

Oh but Eames cannot wait to see how Raymond takes it when he finds out he's been outmanoeuvred and dethroned. It almost makes the indignity of tonight worth it.

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The Other Mayor of London

Raymond

Ballroom

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