Jean-Claude (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
baisant) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2016-09-11 08:46 pm
baisant) wrote in undergrounds2016-09-11 08:46 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
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!
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lycanthropy101 to talk it out! c:
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 @
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"So it would seem, mon amie," he replies in turn. "Perhaps we both needed a change of scenery, if only for a few hours, yet."
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So instead she laughs softly, a little rueful, and accepts his suggestion. "Maybe a distraction?" she says, her voice rising just a little at the end. "Company can be distracting."
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He huffs out a laugh before turning back to the streets before them, clutching her hand closer against his arm before speaking up again. "Talk to me, mon amie. I fear tonight I am too much in my own head. Surely we have more to discuss between ourselves than the current state of affairs."
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"I was thinking the other day," she says in a voice that makes it clear that what follows isn't a serious thought. It may or may not even be true. It might start a conversation, though. "Maybe I should have tried to work for you when I first got here, instead of for a school. I know most of your dancers are men, but... I was trained in ballet once, a long time a go. I figure I could probably manage to work a pole."
Natasha certainly never had any intention of working pole, and if she did think something along those lines, it was only because it would have kept her out of politics.
But she figures he can appreciate the image—and it does offer him a little bit of the truth, about her life. She had been trained in ballet once, even if only as cover for her work as a spy.
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Jean-Claude keeps his grip on her hand as they walk, glancing sideways at her slightly as she speaks. Quirking something of a smile in response to demonstrate that he is certainly amused by the suggestion, at least. "It is more difficult than you might think, it is true," he replies, his smile widening as he looks down to glance her over. "If you have trained in the ballet, though, I do not think it would be beyond you. Although this barre is certainly different from that you had known, mon amie."
He turns to glance ahead of them, continuing along the thought, smiling to himself as he does. "You are always welcome to start now. If you are ever looking for a change in career..."
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On the other hand, she's drawing certain conclusions about where she stands with Jean-Claude, and despite Lancelot's experiences, she thinks they could be allies. Even if they hadn't got along, she respects his position and the way he plays the game. As it happens, she also enjoys his company.
Which is perhaps why she said that in the first place.
"But maybe something to fall back on."
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Jean-Claude huffs something of a laugh at her in reply, but of course he had not expected her to jump at the chance to become a dancer at his club, and of course most of what he's saying is mostly in jest, to keep his mind off of other, more serious topics of conversation.
"My doors are always open to you, mon amie," he replies, tightening his hand on hers again once more, and he hopes the gesture lets her know that he means that for more than just the offer of employment, at that. That if she is ever in trouble, he will be there for her as best he can. And if by some chance, for some reason, she should ever choose to leave Redbright, he will never hold her previous alliances against her. He does not even hold them against her now, in truth. Jean-Claude is above faction lines, so long as those other factions are not actively trying to have him killed.
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She still worries it might be wishful thinking.
That line of thinking reminds her, though. Lancelot had walked back his endorsement of Jean-Claude. More than that, he now seemed entirely perplexed by the man. And Natasha wasn't without questions herself.
"Not to change the subject, but out of curiosity..." she says lightly, glancing up at him. "What does it mean when one man sends another man a suit and roses?"
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Jean-Claude pauses for a moment, before a sly grin spreads its way across his face. "That someone has been sharing secrets, it would seem," he says. Not that it's a secret, exactly. Still, it amuses him that she is asking about it, either way.
He shakes his head slightly, before answering again. "Am I not allowed to send a gift to a friend after hearing of a hardship they had suffered?" he inquires, innocently.
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That way it sounds less out of place when she adds, "In my experience, if a man sends you roses and a fancy outfit, it usually comes with opera tickets or a reservation at a swank restaurant. Not exactly a get well soon balloon."
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Jean-Claude shrugs slightly. "I had ruined his shirt in our duel," he explains. "That suit would look well on him. I had heard of his recent troubles with our nest, and thought a gift might be in order." His smile crooks wryly at her. "The roses were white," he says, as if that explains every intention he had had in sending it all in the first place (it does not, in fact).
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Still, it's nice to hear his take on it.
"I'm sure he'd look very good in suit, too."
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No, it had not been intended to be a romantic gesture. (The roses would have been red if such were the case, after all.) He flicks something of a smile at her. Of course he would mind such a get-together with Lancelot. He would not mind doing a lot of things with Lancelot, truth be told. The man is very handsome. He need not be smitten with him to recognize as much.
"He would," he replies. "Especially that one. If he'd ever tried it on, it would have fit him like a glove." He glances aside at her again. "I take it that the pair of you have spoken on the matter?"
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Natasha is less bothered by it than Lancelot was, though. "He was hoping I could help him translate vampire for him. I clearly got it wrong, though."
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He glances back down at her with the quirk of a smile. "Sometimes it is fulfilling to watch the more 'modern' flounder about trying to interpret them. Much in the same way I feel I must flounder to understand the world as it changes around me now."
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