undergrounds | 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

"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.

Cesare understands what she's saying. He knows how social politics works and that it's tricky to infiltrate a stratum, particularly when you are relatively new to it. But he also, however, appreciates the power of someone that people forget about and don't realize is listening.

"Just tell me what you can when you can." He's not expecting miracles but he doesn't explain that. He doesn't in any way want to make it seem as if his expectations are low. As soon as he lowers them, so will she. So he deliberately keeps them vague but high.

"Do you still have my card?"

That will do. They've been been clear enough for this type of business, and vague enough when it comes to what they'll actually deliver. Natasha isn't unsatisfied with he amount of control this leaves her.

She inclines her head, allowing that she'll do what she can.

As to his question, she cuts him a curious look at that. "I still have it. No chance I'll forget how to find you."

Cesare smirks. Quite frankly, Natasha would be surprised by how few people are actually organised enough to contact him when they need to. He's old enough now that he almost never trusts people to be competent. He's seen enough people fail in front of him not to expect success. Natasha's response is reassuring.

"There's a dental practice next door." It's not a dental practice. "I would rather you head there if any business crops up. You are perfectly welcome at The Angelo, but I would rather it if we did not meet here again." Not professionally anyway. After all, a fly on the wall stops becoming one when someone notices that they're spending a lot of time with someone from another faction. Cesare knows that he doesn't have a reputation for playing the cleanest game. He would rather that not affect Natasha's ability to find him information.

Edited 2016-09-13 20:06 (UTC)

"At dentist office," Natasha echoes. It's not a question, nor disbelief. She repeats it so he knows she's paying attention, and she remembers it.

Other people might not be competent, but she is.

"And if I were to call this practice say because I have a toothache. Would they be able to get the message to you?"

Cesare breaks out into a grin. It took him a while to decide what he thinks of Natasha, but he thinks he likes her. She understands. She gets it.

He shrugs, pretending to ponder over her question.

"If it's urgent, yes. Otherwise a regular checkup seems perfectly reasonable. Make sure everything's in good health."

"Sometimes things come up. Just want to be sure." It's a lot easier to call than it is to get away physically, but she'll do what she can to respect his preference.

"Should I ask for a particular doctor when I come in?" Because at this point, it's hard to believe she won't have a reason to make contact again.

Cesare smirks. In truth, it matters little what name she gives. After all, there aren't any real doctors there and actual patients rarely have a habit of coming unannounced to a dentist's office without an appointment. Everyone in the office will know why she's there.

But this is an opportunity for some playfulness and Cesare is not going to miss it.

"Dr. Jung," he replies. Because why can't Cesare have the pseudonym of the great Swiss psychotherapist? This is his gig after all.

Natasha kicks one eyebrow up, but manages not to roll her eyes. Why not? "All right," he agrees. "Dr. Jung it is."

On that note Natasha stands, smoothing her skirt over her knees. She doubts they'll reach any better understanding than that.

"I'll remember it."

Cesare appreciates that Natasha might judge his name choice a little, but what is the point in living hundreds of years if you can't enjoy it on occasion?

He smiles slightly and nods. They seem to have a good understanding. Mission accomplished.

"Good. Have a wonderful rest of your evening, Ms. Romanoff."

The Other Mayor of London

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