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

She fits against him well, her back arched slightly. Her eyes light up with the dance—both the literal dance and the the flirtation. She is probing for information, it's true. More what Islington wants with the fae than what the fae themselves are doing here.

Among other things, she's confident Eames won't be siding with Harris already.

Though she does have to wonder if he could be persuaded to support another claim on the leadership.

"Right now?" she says playfully. "Right now I expect I'm annoying at least three vampires."

Eames laughs softly again, a playful glint in his own eyes when she speaks. Not enough people play the game, and even less do it well. In a way it does make him a little more curious about Natasha, what she did before London — it's not a skill you develop by accident — but for the moment it's just a fun distraction.

"Well if turning down their offers doesn't do it, dancing with the likes of me will certainly do it." He says, gently moving to manoeuvre her into a spin at a swell in the music as if to emphasise his words.

If he wasn't sure of her formal training before, the spin confirms it. It's not just that she's graceful or experienced—though she is—there's a level of technique that points to training. It gives the spin a certain flair.

She doesn't respond to his comment until she steps back in close.

"If they didn't want me to dance with you, they shouldn't have given you an invitation. Otherwise they just brought this on themselves."

"My sentiments exactly," Eames says, amused as much as he's appreciating the way she moves. A little impressed, more curious about when she found time to study or where.

His hand finds its way back to where it was on her back, resting lightly there-- comfortably as though that's just where it belongs, and he tilts his head to speak quietly into her ear. "Honestly, seems like there's a real lack of forethought here."

One of the advantages of immortality—even if Natasha wasn't as old as many of the vampires in the room, she'd still lived one very full human lifetime. That provided a lot of opportunities.

Her back arches just slightly, fitting to his hand, and a chuckle escapes her at his words. She agrees. If anyone overheard, she'd be in trouble, but she doesn't seem particularly concerned. Eames knows what he's doing just as well as she does, if not better.

"Not much subtlety either."

Eames absolutely knows what he's doing, and it's as much a display as it is for fun. A casual way to let the assembled know that this little show of strength isn't working on him alongside a dance with an attractive woman. Just as well as he knows how to pitch his voice so it doesn't carry past Natasha's ears.

"It's never been a speciality of the nests," Eames says with a gentle lilt, and then thoughtfully adds, "not here anyway." He's never had any dealings with the nests in Russia, who knows how they operate.

Natasha shrugs slightly, somehow making it seem graceful. She's not about to defend nests, especially not Islington. The Red Room of her youth and her sire would have been disgusted by this—but while they might have had a better grasp of politics in their way, they'd been every bit as prone to their own forms of excess. The current iteration of her old nest wished they could manage this kind of show of muscle. If they still knew how to be subtle, it was because the war with werewolves had left them little better than a mid-rate crime syndicate.

But Natasha remembered her training.

"It's an unfortunate habit that some people fall into when they get power," she says. Harris might be worse, but Millicent had already put the nest in a spiral. "But regimes change all the time."

Which is as close as she'll come here to suggesting she might support such a change.

Eames hums gently, a quietly amused noise at her comments. There's a few jokes about the USSR on the tip of his tongue, but Eames decides that's not a hole he needs to explore. And Natasha already got that out of the way anyway.

"Here's hoping sooner rather than later," he says softly against her ear, intoning it in a way that one should hope makes it obvious he knows more than he's about to say here. It's a risk, but it's calculated. At worst, he can't imagine she'll be shedding any tears over seeing a stake through Raymond's heart.

Natasha tips her head at his words, hair falling away from her ear and her neck as she glances at him. She won't be the one disclosing it if he has plans for Harris. Curious, though, she is that. She has to wonder if they know the same people.

She glances down, smiling slightly.

"Here's hoping," she says.

Eames is quiet for a moment, mostly just pausing to appreciate how beautiful Natasha is and commit the details of her face to memory before he ducks his head to speak softly into her ear again.

"I should go." Which he's not entirely happy about, but there are other things he came here for. He does, however, take the opportunity to press a kiss to her cheek and offer up a business card for her to take, "and you should call me."

Natasha stops dancing as smoothly as she started. It doesn't come as a surprise that he has business to do. Their conversation is a pleasant break from the business of the evening, but they are both here for business. The kiss—if that did come as a surprise, she doesn't show any sign of it.

She does take his card, though, and she taps it against her cheek thoughtfully.

"You're right; I should. Not many people make that good of a partner."

"Maybe we'll get a chance to exchange some moves," Eames says with a wink as he backs up off the dance floor, off to go and deal with some less fun vampires for the night.

The Other Mayor of London

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