[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...

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[freelife]

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".

[baisant]

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."

[freelife]

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.

[baisant]

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."

[freelife]

"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.