undergrounds | MABON } 22nd September

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MABON } 22nd September


The times, they are a'changing. But in this case, it's the same way they change every year. The 22nd of September is the Autumn Equinox, and aside from it being a great time for witches to get up to all sorts of shady shit with fae, it's time for the seasonal change in power between the two Courts. And in typical Fae fashion, this event is to be marked with a hugely ostentatious party. They've taken over Crystal Palace Park for a party that'll be going near on 24 hours. The trees are lit with twinkling lights, and many fae have chosen to forgo their glamours — some are indescribably beautiful, others monstrous, and quite a few... Well, they look more or less human, but obviously it doesn't bother them and it shouldn't bother you either! There is dancing, flirting, and laughter. And the drinks and food are free flowing. Slipping between realms is also extremely easy, but there's been strict instruction not to steal any mortals tonight or there'll be hell to pay. This also marks the first official appearance of Eames as the Lord of Autumn, (it's not something he could readily get out of, you see,) so expect plenty of gossip about how odd it is he seems to shy away from his title, his obsession with mortals, and how very un-Fae it is of him to cancel the hunt.
	The RULES are as follows: All vampires must have a fae chaperone. The open invite does extend to vampires, but we can't just have them walking around doing whatever they like, can we? In addition, drinking blood is strictly forbidden. Consensual or not, any vampire found drinking blood within a half mile radius of the park will be killed. It's just not good manners. Violence is also forbidden. It's just not fun for everyone. If you really need to have it out with someone, challenge them to a duel. The children's playground has been made into a duelling area with guards to make sure it all goes smoothly. There are weapons available and they're all very medieval.
That's about it, they aren't a very rule-heavy bunch and honestly just want to have a fun night.

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Cesare laughs hard at that. It's blunt and brazen, but he nonetheless appreciates the candor.

"Perhaps I was."

He still doesn't entirely get the gravity of what he did during their last meeting, how much it had affected her. In his eyes, this was a tussle, not him wiping out a whole part of her business one night.

"But weren't you?"

"If I was or wasn't, it has no bearing on either conversation." She had conducted herself in a professional manner that night. Cesare had grabbed her and hurt her. He'd been awful.

"And you were far more drunk than I was."

"Makes a change..." Cesare scoffs under his breath, not really intending for Nancy to hear him.

"I'm allowed a night out with my friends if I want it," he responds.

Since when did this become a conversation where his choices were questioned? He's not used to being judged so fiercely and he doesn't like it.

"That's not the problem. I'm sure they're all lovely." Maybe not Victor, he'd been impatient. "in fact, you vouched for all five of them." And would have paid for them all to fuck her and likely kill her, too, as a result. Nancy didn't want to die.

"You really don't remember what you did, do you?"

Cesare bristles a bit, frowning.

"I remember fine."

Or at least, he mostly gathers what had happened. He can tell from the fact that she wasn't visiting The Angelo anymore, that he'd stopped her from doing so. He also has some memory of feeling brushed off and rejected. That's about all he needs, he thinks.

Nancy raises an eyebrow.

"Do you? Care to elaborate on the evening then?" or apologize, that would be amazing. Invite her back, maybe. "Specifically the part where you destroyed a good chunk of my business? Or where you tried to hire me to a deadly gang bang?" She crosses her arms again, feeling more confident that he can't hurt her right now.

Oh. Hmmm. So that's exactly what happened. Cesare's eyes narrow for a second.

"You think I would kill you? You think I'd let you die?" That has never been Cesare's intention. In fact, he's been incredibly careful to avoid it, while he's sober, at least. It surprises him that Nancy so easily thinks him capable of that.

Nancy holds her chin high.

"I'm not sure anymore, Cesare. I'm certainly not sure about your friends. I was within my right to tell you no." and he had sulked like a child. she had expected it from the boys, not a centuries old vampire.

"Especially not when you were in that state."

Cesare takes exception to Nancy's phrasing. There's judgement in it that he doesn't appreciate.

"I was fine."

Yes, he had been a bit drunk, but people get drunk. It's called a party. That's what happens. He still doesn't believe that, had Nancy agreed to his request, it would have been lethal. Cesare is too proud for that.

"You didn't do anything to prove to me that you were." Carefully, she shrugs off her jacket, and shows him the still-purple bruise from where he'd grabbed her. It stands out in sick contrast against her pale skin.

"Tell me again you wouldn't have killed me."

Cesare looks at the bruise for a moment. It's concerning, definitely, but he's too stubborn to accept that right now. Not verbally anyway. He sticks his tongue into his cheek as he thinks about it.

"I've bruised you before." After all, it comes with the territory, does it not? It's what happens when a vampire interacts with someone so fragile and mortal, particularly a vampire Cesare's age.

"Yes, you have. But that's under different circumstances." She hadn't realized just how mad she was about all of this, but the sadness had passed.

"you gave me this because I wouldn't go with you."

"I gave you that because I'm a vampire and you aren't," Cesare retorts defensively. He never intended to hurt her. He had just gripped her too hard by accident. It's difficult to control that sort of thing when you're drunk.

"If you were in my position, the same thing would have happened."

Why is he suddenly act as if he needs to defend himself? Why does her opinion matter to him so suddenly?

Nancy puts her jacket back on

"No it wouldn't. I would have let me be on my way after the first no." Nancy quirks an eyebrow somewhat triumphantly. The bruise wasn't what upset her anyway, just another point as to why the conversation had been so terrible.

why were they even still talking?

Cesare says nothing and just rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He doesn't agree with anything Nancy is saying. For one thing, Cesare doesn't really think she said no. For another, he doesn't believe that she would act any differently either.

When he finally speaks, it's with the intent to move on from that conversation.

"So if you have your own turf, you don't even need mine anymore then. Well done."

Nancy is not amused.

"No, but it was nice to have a spot right in the middle of Islington with maids who know how to get blood stains out." She'd just have to do it herself with magic. Like usual. "And not many of my usual clients will be feeling up to the journey but what should that matter? I'm already struggling so what's one more?"

"I thought you said you were fine?" Cesare says, his brow furrowing.

He's not going to act as if he cares too much though and there's an edge of apathy in his voice. Nancy has made it pretty clear that she doesn't want his help and would rather be angry at him instead. He doubts she'd accept his help even if he offered it.

She wants him to care, Nancy realizes almost too late. She wants him to care a lot and worry about her. But he didn't. so she swallows and readies herself.

"That's a relative statement. But that doesn't mean things are easy." She was a midnight witch in hiding. "And I've no reason to tell you otherwise. I don't think you really care much about me." Prove her wrong, Cesare. she wants you to. She actually misses your business.

"But the past month has been very hard."

Unfortunately Cesare isn't feeling particularly kind, especially after he's just been shamed and criticized for his prior behavior.

"That's unfortunate," he says, sounding a little sympathetic but not offering to help her. Normally he would have tried to help, given her a place to stay before she even asked for it. But that was before she complained about him.

Because his behavior had been shameful, gosh.

"It is." She said, and leaves it at that. He doesn't want to work with her in any way, shape, or form. and that was awful, hurt more than it should have. But the way he was speaking to her made her want to apologize. Anything to get back on his good side.

"i hope you had a nice night with the lads."

To be honest, he doesn't remember a whole ton of it. He remembers having a good time up until he'd found Nancy, but then their meeting had rather cramped his style. Besides, in the morning he was wrecked.

"It was fine."

He wonders if Nancy has any female friends, whether she has nights out with them. He wonders if the prostitutes in London know each other and chat about their clients. If so, Cesare's fairly sure he has a reputation of some sort.

She doesn't have many female friends. Most are male and she's alright with that. She had had Kenzi and Abby and that had been perfect. But now... No, not really.

"I see." how many people had they killed that night?

She wants to apologize and throw herself at his feet, but pride stills her movements and hushes her tongue. "and i trust you've been well."

The words from Nancy are odd. They're weirdly amiable, words that you would say to a friend, not someone you've just been verbally sparring with. Nancy hasn't thrown herself as his feet but, in his eyes, she's made it pretty clear that she still wants....what is it? His friendship? His approval? His money? Cesare's not sure, but he knows they're not done just yet.

He ignores Nancy's statement and moves into his own.

"Imagine your best case scenario, your aims is everything worked out perfectly. Where would I factor in that?" Would he be in it? Would he be entirely absent? Would he be paying her? Cesare wants to know.

Nancy blinks, clearly taken aback by his question. Her mouth is suspiciously dry, she can't help but notice. She'd be wrong if she said she'd never really thought about it. But there had been so many variables, and even with that, her best case scenario was an almost mournful "I don't know, Cesare."

Because at the end of the day, her best case scenario wouldn't have put her in a place to know Cesare in the first place, except as a character in a history book.

Undeterred, Cesare presses her.

"Think about it," he instructs. He'll wait. He's got time. It's not like he's immortal or anything.

"From now on, best case scenario, where are you and where am I?" He's trying to figure out what she wants from him. And he intends to see if maybe he can provide it.

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