[OPEN]

[baisant]

A. GUILTY PLEASURES
Jean-Claude sits at his usual place at the corner of the bar at Guilty Pleasures. However, that's probably the only normal thing about it. Where he would normally be surveying the crowd, trying to ascertain whether the crowd is enjoying itself and trying to do what he can to see that they do if not, he has other things on his mind at the moment. There are hunters in Islington, attacking his people. Raymond had formed an alliance with Midnight, and then Redbright had called in her dogs and effectively eradicated them.

Jean-Claude is willing to bet that Raymond isn't going to be happy about this. He's just waiting for the next pin to drop. And questioning what there is exactly to do about it. And when. When should he make his move. When should he gather his people and put a stop to this. Preferably before they come to regret not having done so. But only hindsight will allow them such knowledge, and Jean-Claude is not about to make the same mistake twice.

He will admit, however, it's making him very distracted. And nowhere near as fun as he normally is.


B. A BREATH OF FRESH AIR
There's only so long that Jean-Claude can dwell by himself in his own club before he recognizes that the patrons might catch on that something is the matter, and so it is that he decides to go for a walk. To try and clear his head, or that's the idea at least. It is more accurate to say, as Jean-Claude makes his way through the streets of London, tugging his frock coat closer against himself against the night air, that at least he's getting his heavy thoughts out of his club and away from public view.

He is perhaps thinking a little too hard for the environment he finds himself in. But he doesn't exactly anticipate that he should be running into anyone to interrupt his thoughts. Not at such a time of night, not in such a place as this. Perhaps he should have been paying more attention, however. If he had then he might have remembered the mention of hunters in the territory and therefore been instantly more aware of his surroundings and the people -- or creatures -- he may find around him.

But he had excused himself and his thoughts out of the club for a reason, and as such is entirely unaware of whoever he might run into on such a night as this.


C. Choose your own adventure!
Do we have another reason to thread? Just write your intro here! And/or hit me up via PM/plurk @ lycanthropy101 to talk it out! c:

Comments

B

[outstandingbalance]

Natasha isn't in a hurry to visit Guilty Pleasures after her role in taking down Midnight. Not that it was her idea, or that she had a say in it, but she had been a part of implementing the raid. An important part of it, and she thinks she showed her value to Redbright.

Not something she was going to brag about after her last encounter with Jean-Claude. She didn't think he'd take it personally, but they'd gone from being on different sides of a tense political situations to opposing sides of a cold war.

Still, when she spots him on the street, she doesn't look the other way. Maybe it was too early to assume they had nothing to say to one another. "Hey," she greets him. "Penny for your thoughts?"

[baisant]

Jean-Claude recognizes her voice before he sees her face, and as he turns to greet her it is with a smile. He recognizes the similarities between this situation they are in right now and the situation within which they met. Of course, he had been the one delivering the line and she the one lost in thought.

"How quickly the tides turn," he remarks, commenting aloud on the similarity itself with a quirk of his lips. "As often as we meet in bars, so too now must we begin to count the encounters on moonlit streets, I suppose."

[outstandingbalance]

"Not really that surprising, all things considered." She smiles slightly, a gentler, more honest smile than she'd had for him that first night. She's not completely sure of Jean-Claude, but she trusts now that he's not her enemy. At least not in the short term. And she'd like to believe they could be allies.

"Mind a little company?"

[baisant]

Jean-Claude shakes his head in response to her question. "Not at all," he replies, and motions for her to join him. Well, in truth, he holds out his arm for her to take, if she likes, but he will not be insulted if she does not. It is a gesture that he cannot quite seem to shake, even if it is growing archaic in such a day and age as this.

[outstandingbalance]

There's a moment as Natasha takes in the gesture, considering refusing it. Graciously, but still a refusal. She hesitates to turn him down, though, and her own hesitation interests her. Instead of turning him down, she steps in, taking his arm like a lady, even though she's never been all that classy. Not really.

Congratulations, Jean-Claude. Natasha is on your arm. What will you do with her now?

"Where are we heading?"

A

[freelife]

When Evie approaches Jean-Claude, it's with a half-full pint glass in her hand. She'd just come from an interesting conversation with a vamp that was new to the nest, a sweet American named Caroline, but she still had other business to attend to here, before she retired for the morning.

"JC," she says in greeting, raising a glass towards him. "I don't suppose we could speak in your office? I have something I want to run by you." Pragmatic, logical, and with a plan. That was Evie Frye for you.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude quirks something of a smile at her in response to her greeting. She is not the first one to address him as such, and while another older vampire might grow irate at the bastardization of his name, he in turn finds it rather endearing to have acquired such a nickname. Not everyone can pronounce it near as well as the French anyway, so why bother forcing them?

"A private audience?" he asks the other vampire, quirking one eyebrow higher than the others slightly. "It must be serious," he jokes, but then again he knows all too well just how serious the situation is at hand. After a moment, he pushes himself up to stand and gestures towards the door to the Employees Only hallway and his office beyond. "My time is yours, if you require it, ma chère."

[freelife]

She liked the nickname, honestly. A lot snappier than Jean-Claude, honestly. Something that was more befitting his type of man, the sort that owned strip-clubs in the first place.

"Am I ever anything but?" Her brother certainly would say so, though he was the one that got to see her softer side. So the irony was certainly lost on her companion. She nods, and steps into line with him to walk through the door.

"Thank you. I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to speak with me. I spoke with a young vampire out there earlier," she gestured to the bar that was now behind them. "I told her I recommended Francois." She may or may not have looked a bit more than she'd like to admit. But it's something they had in common, now.

"How is Cherry doing, by the way?" They arrive at the office door and Evie waits patiently for him to open it. Once inside, they can have a real chat.

[baisant]

Is she ever anything but serious? He isn't certain, she's the one who's calling him JC instead of his full name, after all? But that is neither here nor there, he supposes. He doesn't mind it nearly so much from her as he might from someone he disliked, after all.

He glances aside at her as he opens the door to his office and gestures her inside. Deciding not to head to the desk -- unless she insists on the formality of such a meeting, but calling him JC as she does, somehow he doubts it -- but instead to the lush couch and chair he has set aside in there as well for exactly these purposes.

"She is well," he responds. "She does not work as many nights as perhaps she once did," he adds, folding himself into the corner of the sofa, before glancing up at her again and adding, "I think that has more to do with her day job being more successful than it had once been before, however." He tilts his head at her. "I can let her know you asked. I'm sure that would please her."

[freelife]

"Good- I'm glad to hear she's alright." She doesn't blame her, working less. What she'd gone through had been traumatic. She did hope, however, that what Jean-Claude said was true. "Please, do."

She takes a seat on the chair, rather than sit across the sofa from her ally.

"She isn't what I wish to speak about tonight, however. I wanted to run a possibility by you: I wish to speak with those in charge of Hillingdon. And ask for their aid, when it comes time. And to let them know that not all of us see eye-to-eye with our new Mayor."

B.

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick is very aware of his surroundings. He's never careless in vampire territory, even when he's only here to take a walk. He's been walking farther and farther out of his comfort zone lately, pushing himself to drown out those deeply ingrained fears in favour of behaving like a much more well-adjusted fae than he is. He may have lost rank, but he still wants to be thought of as braver and fiercer than he is, so here he is outside of the fae-controlled boroughs.

When Jean-Claude walks by without noticing him, Finnick's first instinct is to leave it that way, but he recognizes the man. It's hard to forget a vampire as forward and as powerful as that, and Finnick's talked to Eames about their plans for Islington as well. So, he lets out a dry laugh and says, "distracted?"

[baisant]

Jean-Claude looks up from his musings to the voice that is addressing him. It takes him a moment, but he remembers that face. Fae and vampire-kind do not frequently get along, but Jean-Claude has made it rather a point to be the exception to the rule. He has made it rather a point to be the exception most rules, if he can help it. It's just so boring to be predictable.

And so he quirks something of a smile at the fae man and slows in his tracks to turn and regard him casually. "Perhaps you could say something in that regard," he responds. He tilts his head at the other man. Finnick, he believes the name was. "It would seem that I was not the only one out for a walk on such a night to clear my head, however." Here he is, talking to Finnick who seems to be doing much the same, after all.

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick gives him a bored look up and down and then looks away. It's not that he really wants to engage with Jean-Claude, but he has to prove to himself that he can make it through something like this without getting spooked, and there's the old adage about keeping friends close and enemies closer. It's useful to be on speaking terms with someone like this.

"The difference is I have to watch where I'm going," he says. "People like me don't get to be so careless."

[baisant]

"Oh?" Jean-Claude tones, raising his eyebrows slightly at the other man in reply to his words. "And why is that, mon ami? People like you." He repeats it slowly, testing the words out on his tongue as he does.

Truth be told he isn't quite certain of the other man's meaning. Though he is a fae who has strayed into what is now vampire territory, since here he is running into Jean-Claude. Of course he must be on his guard. There are vampires on the streets who would not hesitate to eat him up. Jean-Claude at least has somewhat different motivations, himself.

[thelittlemerman]

"Well," Finnick says with a wry smile, "I smell terribly good to people like you. Can't risk someone deciding to make a meal of me."

His tone is more seductive than it should be considering he's talking about being mauled and eaten. Of course, he wants to gauge Jean-Claude's suitability for whatever Eames has in mind, and that means getting him talking. He gets the feeling that this is the language Jean-Claude speaks.

B

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl had not intended to hunt near Guilty Pleasures when he set out for the night. He'd merely ended up near there because the vampire he had been stalking had headed that way. And unfortunately gone inside.

So it was that Daryl was either left to go find another vampire or sit and wait for one to leave. Since he really didn't want to stay that close to the night club, he'd set himself up to laze about wait a couple blocks down where the noise of the venue wouldn't interfere so much with the other noises of the night.

It took some time, but eventually the distinctive odor of a vampire wafted up to him from the alley below. Daryl stood up and stretched, then idly made his way down the fire escape on near-silent feet. Regardless if he was heard, he'd sound much like a lazy stray cat exploring the night. Which was the intention.

Act just enough like his smaller fellows that his prey didn't think twice about it because it was so familiar a sound. And, now that he had less time to really do his intended hunting and stalking, take a good leap at his new quarry. Knock him down, get him on edge. Get him running. Yes, that would do.

No sound accompanied his pounce. Just claws extended and the heavy weight of cat twice as big as any house cat should have been.

[baisant]

If Jean-Claude had ventured outside of vampire territory he probably would have been a bit more aware of what might be lurking in the shadows. But as a 600-year-old vampire, one tends to stop being afraid of the things that go bump in the night, as for the large part you're one of the worst things out there. And that's not selling himself for more than he's worth either. If Jean-Claude had half of the leanings that Raymond did, then he would truly be a force to be reckoned with. For better or worse, however, he was nothing like their dear leader.

As such, he had made a mistake, and found himself distracted. To the point that he hadn't realized that he was being tracked or that anything might be coming at him until he had the distinct sense of movement coming at him from behind. And at that point -- although Jean-Claude can move very quickly -- he does not have enough time to get out of the way. Just to turn and face the cat straight on, bearing his own fangs in response to the impact as he finds himself doing his best to brace against it.

The cat certainly does manage to knock him down, but where the cat is nimble, Jean-Claude is quick. Probably the only thing that saves the shifter is the fact that Jean-Claude recognizes him as a shifter. And recognizes that smell as one he has met before, for that matter.

He hisses once in response to the cat pinning him to the ground before he forcibly retracts his fangs and then replies, "...that is certainly one way to introduce yourself, mon ami."

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl's cat eyes go wide at the sight of the face before him. He hadn't recognized Jean-Claude's scent. Hadn't tried to get that good of a sniff of him when he'd visited. But he recognized the pretty face and, if he hadn't, that voice would have gotten through to him.

And so it was that Daryl found himself crouched on Jean-Claude's chest like an oversized housecat while the man stared up at him. He wasn't exactly sure what to do now. This was not the prey he'd been after. The guy was a vampire, yeah, and a Nest vamp, too. But... he wasn't exactly a vampire Daryl had gotten the whole 'bad guy' vibe from. He'd seemed honestly worried about his girls and even genuinely willing to help Daryl the one time he'd come to see him.

Daryl's claws were still out and he eventually decided to dig them into the cloth of Jean-Claude's shirt. Just one of them. And not to the skin, shirt only. When he had a decent grip and was sure he was holding the man down and in place, he shifted from his animal form into his human. Fur giving way to both skin and cloth. A fae had recently been helpful in granting Daryl that convenience. So he didn't have to stay a cat just to avoid being 'naked' in front of someone. Naked being a relative term since animals were generally naked even when covered with fur.

"The fuck you doing out here?"

Yeah, yeah, Nest territory, dumb question, but it was the first that came to his mind. And yes, he was still on top of Jean-Claude. Now straddling him because of positioning, one fist balled up in his shirt.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude, for his part, seems relatively unphased by the entire situation, now that he has reassured himself that he does not after all have to defend himself in any way. Indeed, he probably should be a little more concerned and finding himself sprawled on his back with another man straddling his chest. Then again, he has lived through many another occasion of another man straddling his chest, and not all of them have been entirely unpleasant circumstances.

He smiles up at the other man as if by sheer force of will he might implant such wicked thoughts into his head without explicitly stating them, tilting his head to the side slightly as he looks up at him and replies, "Forgive me for saying so, but the manner of delivery of your greetings may require some work." Indeed, this is Nest territory. Jean-Claude is the Marquess of Islington. He has by that authority every right to be out and about on such streets. He might ask the other man much the same himself, if he weren't otherwise busy being tackled and sat upon.

[dirtyredneck]

It didn't answer his question, but it did earn Jean-Claude a frown of further confusion for a couple moments. Then Daryl snorted and glanced away in lieu of rolling his eyes. The thumb wrapped up in Jean-Claude's shirt started tapping idly while he brought his other one up to his mouth to chew on. It dropped away quickly and Daryl's eyes returned to the man underneath him a little more properly.

Guy was staring at him weird. Daryl wasn't sure why, but it made him uncomfortable and after another long moment he shifted his weight to slide off and give Jean-Claude room to stand up.

"Hi." Daryl eventually grunted. Then immediately followed it up with a repeat of his question: "The hell you doing here? Ain't you supposed to be locked up in that club of yours?"

b;

[iustitiae]

Misery loves company and the night is as good a time as any to get out and try to think about, well, anything else but pressing thoughts. Connor knows of Jean-Claude but only in passing and definitely not well enough to recognize him. Scents, though, as a werewolf were definitely a thing and Connor can instantly tell the man is a vampire. He shouldn't engage him - humans pass each other all the time on the streets without bothering to say hello - but he does anyway, because of course he does.

"Nice evening for a walk, huh?"

[baisant]

Jean-Claude looks up and across at the other man who has addressed him. The... Werewolf, his senses are telling him, much the same way that the wolf's senses are no doubt telling that he's speaking to a vampire himself. If he doesn't know who he's talking to in the first place. Jean-Claude isn't exactly a private figure, after all.

Jean-Claude can't say that it isn't a nice evening for a walk. But he's slightly wary of the fact of being addressed as such, considering the general relationship between their two people. So when he speaks up to respond he says, carefully, "Any day that it is not raining in London is a good day."

[iustitiae]

At least the reply he gets isn't immediately off putting. Talking about the weather was that good kind of normal conversation that made it easy to talk to a stranger without actually upsetting anyone. Perfect small talk. And what better weather subject than the rain in London?

"We definitely do not get enough of those." He's cautious, too, but a little lighter. He's not looking for a fight, either, but he does like to get to know the other supernatural types around the city.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude may perhaps be wary of the company on some level, but he has the confidence of a 600-year-old vampire. He's fairly certain that if push came to shove came to blows, he would win this fight. So why bother? Vampires and werewolves have never particularly gotten along, but Jean-Claude enjoys being an exception to the norm in many ways.

"Indeed," he replies. "We do not. A walk in the rain makes quite the dramatic statement but a night on the town is always a less enjoyable experience with soggy socks. N'est-ce pas?"

He realizes he is just speaking casual nonsense at the moment. But he is also attempting to get the measure of his conversational companion. What is he doing out here, on a night like this? Has he a particular purpose? Or is their meeting merely a chance encounter? One can never be too careful.

[iustitiae]

Connor laughs - what a way to put it. But Jean-Claude is right, things were never as fun in the rain. Casual nonsense though it may be, it feels safe. It's a chance encounter but it's not a dangerous one. They'll both be able to go on their separate ways with no problem. He feels like he can be less on alert.

"Soggy socks doesn't make for a very attractive accessory, it's true."