[OPEN] MURDER ON THE DANCEFLOOR

[baisant]

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...

Comments

for Eames

[freelife]

"Leave us." Evie waves a hand at the guard that's watching Eames. He hesitates, but Evie's look is enough to get him- a young, impressionable minion of Raymond's- to leave the room. When the door shuts, Evie already knows he's right outside, waiting. Not that Eames is any sort of threat. He still has orders.

Evie circles Eames, looking at the handcuffs they have him in- proper irons, and she winces for him. She approached him slowly, gloved hands going for the cuffs. it's a few moments, and she's managed to pick the locks, only to recuff him. This time, it's a bit more loose. She jerks her head towards the door, indicating the guard is still there. They've got to be quiet, play the game still.

But she wants to check up on him. Make sure he's alright. He volunteered for this after all, and she doesn't want their ally hurt.

"Treating you well, I hope?" Outside there's so much blood in the air, it takes every fiber of her being to stop herself from giving in. She needs to be sober for this, though her fangs are out in the natural reaction.

[falsify]

Honestly he'd forgotten how much iron burns. Pain is something Eames can handle, perhaps not always gracefully, but he can manage it. This however? The worst part isn't the pain itself, but the constant nature of it. The way it's impossible to be less than fully aware of it the whole time it touches him.

(Should've worn long sleeves, a part of him jokes, and Eames huffs an amused noise at seemingly nothing in particular.)

Eames looks up at Evie when she comes in, seemingly not at all pleased to see her, but his expression falls to something strained but still friendly when it's just the two of them. Groaning in the momentary relief of having his cuffs undone, and hissing slightly once they're redone. Not that he doesn't appreciate it, but it still hurts like a bitch.

"Good as can be expected," Eames says with an amused lilt, voice pitched low so it won't carry through the door, choosing to ignore the way her fangs are out. He wouldn't ally himself with a vampire he didn't trust to control themself. "Kind of funny, they really believe I'm not a threat like this."

[freelife]

"I'm sorry about the cuffs," she tells him. Right now he should be able to only have them resting on one part of his skin. At least she's been able to lessen the discomfort somewhat. It could have been far worse.

"Never underestimate a fae," Evie says with a shake of her head. Her tone is low, too, a whisper so the vampire on the other side of the door can't make it out. She's older than him, thank goodness.

"He's overconfident." Harris, not JC. They weren't going to mention his name here at all. The others could be taken out, Evie was ready to lay her life on the line for him, but he was the lynch pin in the whole affair. Without him, they had no one and would incur Harris' wrath all the more.

"How are you holding up?" She looks for fang marks on his neck or wrists. They need him at full strength.

[falsify]

"Had to pretend to be incapacitated through all his gloating, like he's the one who caught me, but no one gets to taste the main dish before the king."

Suffice it to say, if someone had tried to bite him there probably wouldn't be a someone left here to watch him, and that would be a mess. Still, Eames offers a (slightly pained) smile to punctuate his fineness.

[freelife]

Evie can't help herself, she rolls her eyes at their overlord's antics. "That must have been torture." Seriously, she's tried to avoid speaking one-on-one with him for that exact reason.

Well, that, and she desperately wanted to stake him.

"Good. We'll need you." Someone was already assigned to make sure Eames got un-cuffed quickly.

[falsify]

"Careful, I might start thinking you're worried about me." He says it with a teasing lilt up at her, lips pulling into an amused smirk at her pragmatism. He doesn't have the luxury of worrying about tonight — if it goes wrong then he dies, and frankly Eames isn't about to let that happen — he has to be confident, ready. Pulse steady and breathing even while he tries to keep their plans fresh in his mind, even with the pain.

So the smirk and the easy humour are there to punctuate his confidence that things'll go at least mostly to plan.

[freelife]

"Quite the contrary, actually." She echoes his smirk, though there's more amusement in her voice than in his. "I know you can take care of yourself. So long as you have your hands." Hands were really important, okay? For magic and for fighting and generally everything.

He's got this. Jean-Claude wouldn't have let him do it otherwise, and Eames certainly valued his own skin enough that he wouldn't have let this happen, either.