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...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Chaos is where Evie thrives. The moment it's done, she's prepared. This isn't the first time she's been in a situation like this, and she knows it won't be the last. Sure, usually she's one for subtlety, but when you're dealing with a man like Raymond Harris, there's little time for it. This needed to be public, she'd understood. And it was.

Now came the fun part.

Armed to and including the teeth, Evie's ready. If anyone is watching, she moves like she's dancing. A sword usually makes it easy to decapitate, but this is close quarters combat, and she's prepared for a melee. Those who oppose the takeover will meet a swift end with a thrown stake or find themselves slowed by her Kukri. She takes her orders seriously. It's time to liberate London once again.

[ooc: come help her fight, or they can chat after the blood's been spilled WHATEVER WORKS.]

Jean-Claude wields the long blade he had produced from down the back of his jacket -- an old trick he had learned from a vampire hunter long ago -- and snarls in the face of the first vampire to try and mount the stage after he has let Raymond's body drop to the ground before running them clean through as well. There are other vampires who would let their people do the rest of the fighting for them. But Jean-Claude has no such opinion of himself. He just has to be careful that he doesn't get himself killed so soon after winning the city for himself.

It is only once the smoke has cleared, as they say, and Jean-Claude stands breathing heavily on the stage of the dance hall, covered in Raymond Harris' blood and that of his followers, sporting few new cuts and bruises that will heal in time but otherwise none the worse for wear, that he can finally take stock of the situation. And he tilts back his head and laughs.

"Ah, mon amie," he says, addressing Evie directly. "Remind me never to find myself on your bad side."

Evie won't lie, she loves the theatrical side of their new Duke. He's still on stage- his jacket is completely destroyed, good lord, this is why she likes to wear black- and he owns the moment completely.

Evie sheaths her kukuri, then removes a stake from the chest of a dead vampire. She cleans it of the blood, and places it back into her holster for such items. Fire from the wrist, it's essentially shooting from the hip.

"You're quite good with that sword of yours," she says first, instead of just accepting the complement. "I hope you give me a good fight, if you're ever on my bad side."

Slowly, she mounts the stage. "Félicitations à notre nouveau duc".

Jean-Claude's face breaks into a tired yet appreciative smile and he inclines his head at her in response to her words of congratulations. He is always appreciative to hear his native tongue here in this city, especially when it is becoming more and more of a rarity these days. Perhaps that will change, with him in charge. Who can say for certain? Nothing is in this moment, save for the fact that they have had their victory and they must celebrate it for who knows what may come next.

"I will admit, I am more than a little out of practice," he says. "It has been some time since my dueling skills were required on a regular basis. But my old training has served me well, these past few months."

Evie's been alive long enough that she speaks more than just English. Hindi was the second language she learned, actually, and from there she moved back to the Romance languages, including French. Sometimes it was nice to switch to another language.

"Your skills are still admirable," she tells him, "for being so out of practice. I'd like to see what you look like with more frequent sparring." She smiles. "If you'd ever like an opponent." Evie missed a good duel. No one ever whipped out a sword anymore, it was always guns.

Boring.

Jean-Claude smiles in response to her offer, tilting his head at her as if considering her offer. Perhaps he is, at that. He finds himself in a position of power, after all. What if someone should get it into their heads to try and overthrow him. He is going to try and cull the masses, but he needs to be ready for every opportunity.

"I am out of practice," he admits. "I hope you would allow me to ease into it."

"Of course- goodness knows you've got centuries more training with it than I do." She mentions his age only as a sign of respect. "So I don't see why we shouldn't put it to use. I'll give you all the time you need."

He'd be able to teach her a thing or two, she's sure.

Natasha couldn't be there when the deed went down, wasn't welcome for it because of her allegiance to Redbright. Instead she waited outside, ready with loaded guns and stakes for anyone who tried to take the battle outside.

When the dust settles, though, Natasha has more freedom to meet her allies within the nest.

For Evie, she has a smile. "Hey," she says when she has a moment to reach the other assassin. "Hell of a night, huh?"

Natasha, oh thank god. Evie practically runs up to her when she hears her voice, wrapping her in a rather undignified hug. Evie's not a big hugger. But for Natasha, at the end of a battle, she could be a huge hugger.

"Natasha- you're alright." She's more relieved than she expected to be to see her dear friend again. She'd figured she'd partake tonight, and though Evie was aware of the other woman's abilities, her more recent diet did put her at a disadvantage.

The hug takes Natasha buy surprise. There's a brief hesitation as she's caught, then she wraps her arms around the other woman as well, returning the hug with a gentle reassurance.

Natasha's all right. They both are.

"You weren't worried, were you?" She huffs, covering the way she's flattered by her concern with humor. "I can take care of myself."

Thank you for not making this awkward, Nat. She really, really appreciates it.

"This isn't my first coup," she explains. "I suppose I should have guessed it wasn't yours, either." Yes, she was worried.

"Not exactly a novice, no. Though..." She trails off, glancing over the area around them. "I suppose it's my first insurrection in a nest. So there's that. All things considered, I'd say it went over well."

Natasha doesn't try to pull away, staying close even as she eases out of the hug.

"Well, welcome." Evie's hands find a gentle grip on Natasha's forearms, holding her close.

"It did- all things considering." Raymond making JC drink from their guest, for example. She'd been holding her breath, preparing to make a move if need-be.

Natasha missed out on the excitement inside; she can tell from Evie's reaction that there's more than a little she'll want to ask about, find out what happened on the scene.

"You have more to clean up here? I shouldn't be out much longer, but I wouldn't mind hearing how things went on your end."

Evie nods. "I won't leave until everyone's safely out. It's the least I can do for Jean-Claude." She'd already done so much for him, but there's clean-up. Bodies to destroy, for example, blood stains to do away with.

"Go to my flat- it's closer. No one will disturb you." She had a great bed with black-out curtains. "There's no need to disturb anyone riding the night bus that way." With the blood and general battle-worn ways.

"You sure about that? I don't want to intrude." Especially after a fight like this. Evie might want to have the day to herself, to rest and recover. Clean up.

But if she's sure about her invitation, the prospect of spending the day with the other woman is tempting.

"I'm fine," she says seriously. "I heal faster than you." She'd be lying if she said she hadn't partaken in some of the carnage.

"Get yourself out of the sun, take a shower- you can borrow pajamas, if you want." She trusted Natasha in a way she hadn't trusted anyone in a while. Enough to let her into her home.

She presses her key into Natasha's hand.

Natasha flashes a quick, tired smile as she accepts the key. She realizes just how much trust Evie is showing her doing this, and she appreciates it—she doubts Evie could understand how much. It's not something she can feel like she's earned.

"I'll meet you back there when you get free," Natasha says, giving her a meaningful look. "A shower sounds good right now. Real good."

"I'll see you there. Rest up."

It's odd for her, too. But she cares deeply about her friend, and they both have had a long night. There's no reason that Natasha should have to stay if she didn't need to. If it wasn't safe for her. Evie just felt obligated to remain.

It's a few hours later when Evie, armed with her spare key, entered her flat. The sun was up, and the vampire looked absolutely exhausted. Still, she tries to be quiet as she slips into the shower to rid herself of the grime of the evening.

When she leaves the bathroom, she's piled her dark hair up on her head, her clothes replaced with a pair of shorts and a tank-top. Bedtime, at last.

By the time Evie gets back, Natasha has given in to laying down. She took a shower first and intended to stay up, at least a while, but with dawn bringing the light and the weight of fatigue, Natasha surrendered. She's not entirely asleep when the other women comes in, though.

She stirs at the sound of water hitting tile, pulling herself up drowsily in bed and trying to clear her head.

"Clean?" she asks when she hears Evie pad out of the bathroom.

"Clean," Evie repeats, a little surprised that Natasha is still awake. "I didn't wake you up, did I? I tried to be quiet." And that meant she could be nearly silent. Then again, vampire hearing.

"You can go back to sleep, if you like." That was her plan, anyway. Sleep, and then in the morning have some coffee before going to speak with the Brotherhood.

"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."

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