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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!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Am I? I wouldn't say that seemed to your opinion that last time we spoke." She sits confidently, crossing her legs as she speaks. Natasha has almost always projected an air of professionalism, but now she's actually on the job. Her expression is schooled. Her clothes, hair, her makeup, are all impeccable. Her hands are still, folded in her lap.

She might be only a fraction of his age, but tonight, Natasha seems like a natural partner to face across a negotiation table.

"I'm not joining Islington."

Cesare leans back in his chair for a moment, thoughtful and curious. It's an interesting tactic to shut down a conversation so swiftly like that, if that's in fact what she's doing. Whether it's true or not, though, he appreciates the plainness of her words. Cesare can do flowery language and elaborate metaphors, but he'd rather not.

He isn't deterred by her comment, but intrigued.

"Then why are you here?"

Last time they spoke he saw her as little more than a trifle, something to fill his infinite days and keep him occupied. Tonight she is more of a peer, a young, inexperienced peer but just about one nonetheless. If she wants to negotiate with him and talk seriously, he'll give her the respect to regard her similarly in return.

It might seem like a strange choice, but Natasha knows he strategy. She knows there's nothing to gain here by wasting time by setting unreasonable expectations. If she has his interest, then she'll consider it a first step. The easiest, but a good start.

"I have an interest," she says, her tone pleasantly matter of fact. That much should be obvious. A vampire living in any city would have an interest in the way the local nest interacted with the rest of the supernatural community. Natasha doesn't go into the details of her particular interest yet—the fact she came to London in part because compared to most large cities, the supernatural politics were peaceful—but it is a bread crumb.

"I'd like to think there are other things I can offer without leaving my current position." She smiles slightly. "I'm sure there are things I could hope for from you that don't involve an invitation to join the nest."

"You want to determine your terms with me at my own party." It's a statement, not a question. Cesare is too confident to ask her, even rhetorically. He shrugs. "Ballsy." He can't quite decide if she's being foolish and brazen or smart.

"I support my own nest, Ms Romanoff, not others'." His tone is definitive, the type that shuts down a conversation in seconds, but his words are deliberately vague. In his way, he's being polite and giving her some room to discuss and negotiate. He's still curious to find out quite what she's asking of him.

"That's a good thing, because I don't want you to abandon your nest." If she takes his comment as a compliment, she doesn't show any sign. Natasha knows she's going to need her poker face. Stoicism is a strength of hers.

"Believe it or not, I'd like to be able to support your nest too. If I'm on good terms with Islington and vampires in general are on peaceful terms with the rest of the city, I benefit." She can admit to a certain level of mercenary survival instinct. If he thinks that's all she's interested in, that's not her problem. If he underestimates her because of it, all the better. "Unfortunately, at the moment... I'm not sure if I can do that."

She lifts one hand and gestures around them, a little ballerina's grace slipping into the movement. "If you want to change my mind, I'm all ears."

Cesare can't help but quirk an eyebrow and laugh, a wry grin forming on his lips.

"I have no doubt that you benefit from helping Islington. We play a game that your group of misfits wouldn't dare. It helps to ally with a winning side."

Perhaps it's misdirected confidence but Cesare doesn't join a team unless he's confident in its abilities. When it comes down to it, there are few factions in London who are willing to get dirty, albeit in their own snooty way, more than Islington Nest. At the end of the day, vampires don't always play fair. That, in Cesare's eyes, is a clear advantage.

"Where I'm having trouble is figuring out how this would benefit me."

That wasn't quite what Natasha had said, but she doesn't correct him. She doesn't want to distance him in the course of the conversation with needless quibbling over details. As long as he can see that she has a reason to come to the table, Natasha is willing to let him believe what he wants about their relative investment in this.

For a beat Natasha is quiet, still as she considers his statement, rolling it over. She could take the bate, attempt to convince him of her value. That would surrender a certain power in the conversation, though. It would make her the one trying to woo him. At least for the time being, Natasha would rather not give him.

So instead, after her brief consideration, Natasha leans a little closer and tilts her head. "Are you trying to figure out how it would benefit you, or benefit Islington?"

Natasha is evading. That part is exceptionally clear. Cesare has dodged questions or suggestions enough times to know what it looks like when someone else does it. He'll let her change the topic, for now at least.

Whether she intends it or not, her words are a challenge of sorts, an implication of selfishness and potential treason that causes Cesare's eyes to narrow. He keeps his smile but at this point it's more out of cordiality than smug satisfaction.

"You don't believe the two to be the same?" He asks it because he can't bring himself to state it as a fact. Over the years he's learned that he's a terrible liar. Dishonesty doesn't sit well with him, but equivocation is fine. He has his own agenda, of course. He was successful before he joined Islington Nest and he'll be successful once he leaves. But for now it's far better for him to stick with his team, at least in words, if not entirely in spirit.

"You should not be making such implications here, Ms. Romanoff." Whether he means in his hotel, in front of him, or so near to Raymond Harris is unclear.

If his rebuke hits home, she doesn't give any sign. Her smile flexes a little wider as he speaks, signalling that she's heard him but very little else. Her green eyes stay as light and expressionless as glass. Under other circumstances, she might have allowed herself to be goaded more, she might have challenged him more openly, but this wasn't about her. Not in any immediate way.

Whether it was about him, still TBD in her estimation.

"Of course they're two different things. Even if your goals align, you're not Raymond Harris, and you're not Islington. I don't see any reason to be coy about that." A pause as she considers how to continue, and as she lets her words sink in. Then she adds, "I'm Russian. We know how regimes work."

Another pause and she leans back, folding her hands neatly in her lap in a closing gesture.

"It's a healthy distinction to make. What benefits the nest might benefit you, but if we're talking about you specifically... that's a very different conversation."

"And one that I won't countenance." This is a conversation that, for now at least, he refuses to participate in. It would be incredibly stupid to talk about stabbing a man in the back while you're hosting his party. This is a discussion that should be saved for private back rooms that have been checked for bugs, not public tea rooms where anyone could be listening.

It won't stop him from asking her difficult questions in return though. If she's happy to talk about such things in public, he's happy to make her do so.

"Who are you leveraging for?" He doesn't believe someone so low ranked in such a pacifist group would be working of her own accord. In his eyes, she clearly has someone in mind that she's trying to help or is working for.

"Don't read too much into that," Natasha says, noting that he seems disposed to assume the worst. Whether or not he reads her question like this because he's open to that kind of offer or because of a natural suspicion, it's worth remembering should this come up later.

"I'm not leveraging for anyone, signor," Natasha says with an air of perfect honesty. And this point, it's true. She's here because she's a vampire, and because Redbright wouldn't mind having someone on the inside to see what's happening in the party. For the time being, she's here in her own corner—one which would prefer to see peace in the community.

"It's really not that complicated. I don't want to see London open season on vampires. I've lived that once already, and I don't care to do it again. Believe it or not but when the hunters start sharpening their stakes, they're not planning to ask who's part of the nest and who's allied elsewhere."

Cesare rolls his eyes and takes a swig of his drink.

"You don't need to teach me about hunters, Ms Romanoff."

It seems odd that Natasha seems so keen on educating him. He has the right mind to remind her exactly who he is. His body language stiffens slightly and he looks her straight in the eye, an expression of impatience on his face.

"What exactly are you proposing right now, if anything?" If she has a concrete suggestion, he'll hear it but so far it seems like she's wasting his time. He could be out enjoying himself or making alliances of worth. At the moment this does not seem like one of those.

"I'm not trying to teach you about anything," Natasha says, somehow keeping her tone level, her body language unaffected. If she feels some frustration with his treatment, Natasha buries it thoroughly. "What I'm doing is explaining why I'm here, both in general and talking to you specifically. I have an interest in seeing Islington do well."

A pause, and she crosses her legs at the knee. Then she continues.

"But it's clear Islington needs friends right now. Otherwise none of us would be here at all. This whole display, this trying to bring in unaffiliated vampires, courting witches and fae, putting on a show of power—do you think I don't know what it is?" It would be easy to grow arch, needling, but her tone is matter of fact. "You're acting like I'm here offering you something, but the only thing I'm offering is an ear. If you have a pitch, I'll listen. Tell me how this gets better. Tell me there's a plan. Maybe you won't be able to buy another foot soldier, but if the best you think you can get out of me is another young vampire running havoc in the street, then we're both in the wrong place."

Cesare listens and pauses for a second, thinking over her words and exactly what he would like to say in reply. He appreciates that she's got confidence , but she hasn't proven herself yet. He wonders if he should give her an opportunity to do so. After a moment's thought, he finally speaks.

"I need an ear in Redbright." And perhaps a dagger, but that will come in time. "They seem peaceful enough for now, but if their politics change, I want you to tell me. If anything changes, you tell me. I presume you know by now all that I can offer you in return." She's a smart girl. She does her homework. She probably even knows how much he pays and what he gives to others. He gives her a deliberately soft request too, one that's small, to lure her in and find out how well she can do.

He looks back down to the napkin, then to her, suggesting she write down a number if she's interested.

At least they were more or less on the same page now. She saw offer for what it was, starting small. Natasha smiles briefly and considers the napkin. After a short moment, she bows her head, almost demurring. "Now that is the kind of thing I could do."

There are only only one slight problem with it, really. "I'm not hurting for money though. I was thinking of something a little less formal."

She doesn't need a job, it's true. But beyond that, she doesn't want him to get the impression that she's his employee. That would be a misapprehension that could prove painful to correct. It also established a power dynamic that would be difficult to fight. Natasha didn't expect them to be equals. That wasn't how vampire nests functioned. But that didn't mean she couldn't maintain a certain degree of autonomy, especially considering that she was not part of the nest itself.

"It could be that if I heard something, I'd talk about it though. Under the right circumstances—with a friend, for example. People talk about their work all the time."

Cesare looks at her a little surprised and tilts his head away from her, assessing her words. Is she suggesting quite what he thinks she is? Cesare is more than happy to garner friends, but Cesare doesn't think that's entirely what she's suggesting. That would be a little too simple. Natasha's beautiful, of course she is, and he would be lying if he hadn't thought about it on occasion, but he's not entirely sure he's interested in post-coital confessions. It would tip the scale a little too much in her favor.

"I'm not quite that kinda girl. Besides, I'm married." To three people, for the moment at least. Maybe more later. Marriage has never been something that Cesare valued all too greatly.

"But something more intellectual, I could do: acquaintances chatting over theoreticals and conjectures."

For perhaps the first time, Cesare honestly surprises Natasha. Both of her eyebrows go up, a reaction she allows him to see despite her ability to school her expression.

She doesn't mind him knowing that thought hadn't crossed her mind.

At least not in that context.

"Believe me," she says, "if I decide to proposition you, I'll be clearer about it. I remember your preferences about that from our last conversation." Which isn't the only reason she wouldn't have come on to him here and like that, in exchange for information.

"I viewed it as an entirely intellectual exchange. And maybe..." She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm not expecting any details into the inner workings of the nest, but say a little warning if you expect things to get complicated."

Unphased by Natasha's rebuttal, Cesare scoffs slightly and takes a swig of his drink.

"You think they aren't complicated already?" If she doesn't see the impending fracture of Islington Nest then, quite frankly, she is blind. People are already being forced to take sides and declare their allegiances. This party has made sure of that. Cesare himself had chosen the leader, for now at least. He found it more valuable to toe the line. When the time comes, he will be happy to stab Raymond Harris in the back, quite literally if need be, but for now he prefers not to kick up a fuss.

"In all honesty, as an intellectual friend, I would suggest you start appealing to Harris' good side, or stay very far away for now. Soon enough anyone who isn't explicitly supporting him will be seen as a threat, particularly if they're vampires." To be honest, even if they are on his side, Raymond might feel threatened by them anyway. The man is nuts, after all.

Natasha clears her throat. She's well aware that the situation is already complicated. She murmurs, "I suppose I'm given to understatement." not in argument, but acknowledging the fact that, yes, she knows.

But it could always get worse.

She doesn't clarify her mean, though, since at the very least what he tells her is useful. Not surprising. Not exactly new information. Call it confirmation, and coming from a source nearer Harris himself, that had some value. "Appeal to his good side?" she asks instead. "I wasn't planning to talk to him myself. Honestly, I've every intention of staying as far off his radar as practical."

"Good. You're a vampire outside of the Islington Nest. You're practically defecting. And that's not even mentioning your diet." Cesare holds no qualms about calling a spade a spade. Natasha should be in Islington. That much is clear. That fact that she isn't does irk him a little, and likely irks Harris far more. It's one fewer soldier for his army. Although her completely denying her vampirism and refusing to drink real blood is worse. A true waste, in Cesare's eyes.

"My offer still stands on that." Come on, Nat. Drink some real food. Just a nibble.

"Can't defect from a nest I was never part of." And, if they were going to address that, she has more or less defected from her previous nest. While she hadn't exactly gone to the opposing side of their conflict, her choice to side with a faction that wasn't vampires hadn't been a coincidence. "And I don't see what my diet has to do with your current conversation."

Cesare smiles and rolls his eyes slightly. How can she not get it?

"There's a reason why abhor your diet, Ms. Romanoff." And he has no doubt that Raymond Harris has similar sentiments. Vampires are not meant to avoid drinking the blood of humans, just as birds aren't meant to live their entire lives on the ground. Natasha is wasted potential. Cesare would be lying if he said that didn't frustrate him.

"And that's a very good reason for you not to follow it yourself," Natasha says, evenly. It's an effort not to get defensive, but she's well trained. The effort pays off—at least her tone doesn't invite conflict. It's matter of fact, not disrespectful. "But it's my choice."

"It most certainly is, Ms. Romanoff. But don't think it won't affect how people view you." Specifically Raymond Harris. From what Cesare's gathered, Natasha doesn't remotely care what Cesare himself thinks. She's made that exceptionally clear.

"Just tell me when I should expect something from Redbright and Sylvia. That bitch is always up to something." He holds no qualms about expressing his dislike for Sylvia. She's manipulative, power hungry and a dictator. And, to be honest, she has the power that Cesare wants.

"If I let myself worry too much about that, I wouldn't be able to do what I'm doing." And she had to do it—she has to at least try. Cesare has experienced first hand what that means.

Natasha leans closer, crossing her legs carefully at the ankle as she braces her arms on the table and says seriously, "I'll let you know what I can. I'm not exactly inner circle here. Sylvia's not telling me all her plans. But at least I should be able to get you a heads up."

She wants to set realistic expectations. Overpromising won't do her any good. Still, this connection is worth cultivating.

The Other Mayor of London

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