undergrounds | [OPEN] MURDER ON THE DANCEFLOOR

Entry tags:

[OPEN] MURDER ON THE DANCEFLOOR

The Duke of Central London's Samhain festivities are open upon invitation only. Those who are fortunate enough to have received one, either from the Duke himself or from one of his guests, are privy to quite the affair. Raymond has obviously been planning this for some time now, and the bar is fully stocked, the room fully decorated for the festivities. Collected from the fae hunt that their leader had encouraged, fae blood flows freely, available freshly served in punch bowls or straight from the source itself, in the form of kidnapped fae off of the streets. The vampires who partake are drunk with it and high on the euphoria that it offers, a drug unlike any other their kind can partake in.

As promised by Raymond himself, it is a rave the likes that London has never seen before. And it's about to get a lot more memorable still...

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

"That makes sense." Caroline paused just for a moment, before adding "I want to do what I can, to make the Nest a good thing to be a part of." No more blaming her for people getting killed by vampires running amok.

"Good." She puts her hand on Caroline's shoulder. "We can use more members like you."

Cesare rolls his eyes a little and pulls a wry smile. In his eyes, it's pretty optimistic to think that Natasha can keep such a secret from Sylvia. She has too many hands in too many pots. He takes a hefty swig of his scotch.

"You think so? Nobody can take a fucking shit in this town without Redbright knowing about it." Though maybe he's just bitter. This has been a win for Islington, in a sense, but it's a bigger win for Sylvia. She's got exactly what she wanted: agreeable, compliant vampires. At least he's getting a promotion out of it.

Caroline smiles. After recent events, it's nice to be reminded that she is on the right side of things. That it's possible to be a vampire and still be a good person.

Even when being a good person means taking part in what was quite literally a bloody mess.

"Do you think anyone outside the Nest will trust us?"

One moment he's consumed by the intoxicating taste of fae blood, his veins singing with power. The next he's being gutted like a fish. Raymond cries out, more in surprise than pain although there's plenty of the latter, and he hisses in anger as Eames yanks him away from his neck. His hands grab at the stake, expression contorting as he pulls it out, his shirt turning red with dripping blood. His guards will take care of this, give him the time he needs to recover and roast this insolent fae on a spit.

But they don't. Instead one of them falls and it's Jean-Claude stepping up to shove him back, Raymond's face white with anger and shock as he meets the eyes of his subordinate.

"You fucking–"

As far as last words go, they're not the most elegant. But Raymond isn't given a chance to utter anything else, as Jean-Claude's blade swings and the last thing he sees is the flash of metal before it cuts clean through muscle, sinew and bone and the Duke of London Central's head says goodbye to his body.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Evie takes a long moment to look over the damage. The cleaning bill was going to be huge, and she did not envy them one bit.

"We can only hope." Jean-Claude had approached Sylvia. She had approached Hillingdon. "But if they choose not to, I won't blame them."

"It can't be a surprise." She joins him, coming to stand before and to the side. She doesn't look much worse for the wear. A little tired, but she missed the thick of the fighting; she had done an admirable job of picking people off as they left.

"Or did you think I wouldn't come through for you?"

Her tone is light, not a serious accusation. Perhaps it reflects poorly on her, but she's pleased. Happy might not be the word for it, but there's a sense of satisfaction that comes with success. Especially considering it is a real victory; Jean-Claude might still disappoint her, but she trusts he's smarter than Harris even in the worst case scenario.

But she would like to believe he's a friend.

"If they chose not to, then we'll just have to do more to change their minds." From everything she's seen and heard, Caroline knows that it might take a lot to do this. But it's not like any of them are short on time.

Evie nods her head. "Precisely, Caroline."

"No, I was awake." Barely, and still barely, but she is. The sound comes through in her voice. "Didn't want to sleep before you got back."

Behind the bed's blackout curtains, Natasha sits up, curling her legs to her chest as she collects her focus. "Wanted to hear how the clean up went."

If he doesn't have faith in Natasha's ability to keep a secret, Natasha isn't going to try to convince him. That's not the kind of argument likely to be successful, anyway.

Instead, she shrugs. "Like I said, as far as I know. I can't entirely rule out that she knows and is all right with it. She stands to benefit too."

The too is intentional. Natasha sees this as a beneficial move. She wouldn't be here if she didn't. She sips her scotch before adding, "Either way, I'm not here in any official capacity."

Evie tisks at her. "I told you to sleep." Evie pushes the curtains away just so she is able to get to her bed, and pulls them back. Natasha looks unusually... Small. Evie doesn't lay down, but pulls the covers up over her pale legs, covering the names of her parents.

Evie sighs. "It went. Bodies are cleared, some of the blood will take ages to get rid of. But it's gone." She didn't ask what they did with Raymond's body.

"Well. Guess I've never been that good at doing what I'm told," Natasha says, almost laughing. Her expression grows more serious as she considers Evie's answer, though.

"No more fires to put out though?"

"I never would have thought," she says, sparing a moment to give her friend a wry sort of grin.

"No, not that we can until morning, anyway. I promised Jean-Claude I'd be on call." She stifles a yawn. "I think we need a proper English breakfast tomorrow." She was more than happy to cook. She'd always loved the taste of food.

Daryl's prowling made it difficult for any of those now crowding the door to make a run for it. Caroline's more obvious threat meant several of them were pushing back against those trying to push forward. Acting like crossing the threshold would make them targets and not would keep them safe. The safety was an illusion. They were being herded. Kept together so they would be easier to pick off as those inside were whittled down.

He moved his pacing over to pick up the stray bolt Caroline had used briefly. He gripped it with his teeth and pulled it out delicately before making his way back to patrol opposite her. Eyes on the door and one particular vampire who'd locked eyes with him. With the power he'd been granted by the fae, he was able to transform back to his human form while the vampire watched. Fully dressed and fully armed. He still held the bolt in his teeth, but he was making a show of pulling his crossbow up and loading it.

"Hm. Wouldn't mind that." She agrees more for Evie's benefit than her own, but many people find that kind of interaction comforting. It's friendly. And Evie is a friend.

She hesitates a moment, then lays back down.

"That reminds me... I was going to ask you something."

"Good, it's not often I get to cook for more than just myself." And she happened to enjoy it.

Evie's about to lay down further when Natasha mentions a question. "Of course- what's on your mind?"

As another vampire charged her, Caroline began to wonder if there was ever going to be an end to this fight. Well, obviously there was one way to end things for her but she wasn't counting her own death as an option.

She spun out of the reach of the approaching vampire, using his speed and bulk against him. She turned quickly and stabbed her stake into his back but he moved at the last moment, so she didn't pierce his heart.

"Damn it," she muttered, especially since she was again unarmed. At least the vampire couldn't reach the stake and use it on her, though he was trying. She moved to stand in front him then, while he was still trying to get it out of him, she threw herself at him, pushing him back into a nearby wall. As the stake made contact with the wall, it was driven further into his body, finally reaching the heart and killing him.

This happened just in time for her to catch the end of the bobcat's transformation. Okay, shapeshifter then. Caroline put that down as something that was good to know, but not necessarily something she could put to much use right now, given that he was already doing what he could to kill Harris' supporters.

She looks around again at all the dead vampires. "Do you think many of Harris' supporters are still out there?"

"I'm sure there are a few." There always would be people that saw it his way.

Cesare smiles. "Good, then that means you can't possibly have seen me here. I didn't attend. Grew ill at the last minute, you see. Swallowed some bad blood."

As much as he has his own reasons for supporting Jean-Claude, he has more reasons not to be seen doing so. Cesare is a man who is best suited to shadows when it comes to underhand dealings and assassinations. He doesn't like to be publicly declared an executioner. He's learned over time that it tends to taint his business deals. Whisperings are fine, but when it comes to political killings, he would prefer not to be the one photographed with blood on his hands.

He is sure Natasha understands that. After all, he knows she's smarter than he usually gives her credit for.

The one trying to make a break for it through Caroline's line getting staked riled more than a few of those hesitating at the door. Between her, the other vampires slowly working their way through them, and Daryl, they were starting to see their own deaths flash before their eyes. Flight wasn't much of an option. They were damn near in a turkey shoot.

One of them broke from the rest, hands up, panicked, blood of other vampires and fae soaking his shirt. "I surrender!" He shouted, glancing around and lowering himself to his knees. "I'll serve Jean-Claude! I don't care about Harris! Please I-"

The bolt that now stuck out of his chest cut him off and Daryl loaded the one that had been in his teeth. He glanced around at the others on Jean-Claude's side as if to remind them not to go easy on the Harris' cronies, "No survivors."

"I guess we'll just need to keep an eye out for them. And hopefully find them before they get desperate enough to do something really stupid." She didn't even want to imagine what that something might be.

Caroline saw the vampire try to surrender, and then saw the shapeshifter kill him anyway. She didn't like it but there wasn't anything to do right now but accept it. Better safe than sorry, right?

The next vampire to try and escape didn't offer any pleas for leniency, which made it easier for Caroline to drive a stake into her heart. But it still felt a bit different, less of a necessary evil and more of a mindless slaughter.

Natasha has been meaning to ask this for some time now, but she keeps putting it off, coming up with excuses not to follow through. Must as she trusts Evie, she still struggles.

"It can wait until after we sleep. It's just—I might need a favor."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 4 of 7

[OPEN] MURDER ON THE DANCEFLOOR

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject