undergrounds | hazy shade of winter

Evie gives her an incredulous look.

"I'm only 170, I'm hardly old by vampire standards. Jean-Claude is how old?" And he wasn't even that old. She'd met vampires that were thousands of years old, in her travels.

"But the views will come in time. Enjoy the humanity, Caroline."

"I know that! But I'm 21. I've only been a vampire for four years, though it feels like longer. So some parts of the whole immortal thing probably haven't really sunk in yet."

She shakes her head. "Okay, now I'm just getting morose and serious. What should we do next?"

"No." His voice goes hard and his blue eyes go flinty. Rather than getting sad, he's getting upset. It's rather like the feeling he had when he saw her with a client and nearly put him through the wall. It's a irrational sort of possessiveness, the kind that doesn't make any sense, but that engulfs him entirely.

"Nancy, you walkin' the streets isn't gonna affect this much one way or the other. Jean-Claude openly runs Guilty Pleasures and Cesare....well, Cesars is a Borgia. 'Nuff said right there. So don't do this t'me. Please." His voice softens just a little. "It's gonna be a bitter victory without you by my side."

Nancy recognizes the change in his voice, in his eyes, and she stills, her back rigid. Like if she moved too suddenly, it would all be over. If she had enough cause to actually examine her actions, it was clear where they were rooted.

"And if you win? What then- you can't be on the Night Council and date a fucking whore, Cooper." She hated when others called her a whore, but when she said it- when she said it, it was different. It was right. "You're the best one for the job, but you won't win if you're with me."

She took a deep breath, still holding on to his hand.

"I don't want to do this. I love you."

"It'll come. But don't rush it." She gives her a soft smile.

"Get as morose and serious as you want with me. But I think it's time to actually learn a few things. We're going to work on blocking, next. Got to keep your pretty face protected."

Caroline nods and stood up. "Sounds good. I'm not sure my boss would be thrilled if I came in to sing all black and blue."

"No, though luckily we heal fast." She gives her a grin, and starts to pull her gloves back on.

"Let's get ready for round two, then see how we feel."

Caroline does the same, already beginning to brace herself for what's to come. But even while it is physically demanding - and painful, at times - she's glad to be doing this. If she wants to get more involved in cleaning up the Nest and keeping things running smoothly, she's going to need any advantage she can get.

The girl can move, so at least Evie's got something she can work with. Imagine if Caroline had been blundering and oafish. The whole thing would have been a complete disaster. But luckily, Evie had good taste when it came to who she accepted.

Following the blocks, Evie had her working on proper form to throw a punch. She'd traded in her gloves for those pads you can hit without causing any damage, urging Caroline to alternate from one target to the other. And, if she didn't keep her arm up?

Well, then Evie had no problem giving her a light thwack on the head with those same pads.

"Keep your arm up."

Caroline isn't a complete newcomer to fighting, even if she hasn't had much official training, beyond a few weaponry lessons from Alaric. She knows there is a lot to learn but it's hard to remember all of it. Especially the part about keeping an arm up. Apparently, she's more offence, less defence.

But eventually, she's blocking the pad more often then it hits her, and she really does feel like she's making progress.

Caroline is making progress, and Evie finds herself grinning through the exercise.

"Good!" She tells her at last, signaling to end the round. "You're already better than when you first stepped in here."

Caroline is happy for another break and quickly gets a drink. "Good, because I'm definitely sorer too." At least she'd been in good shape when she became a vampire, aside from the whole internal bleeding thing that had landed her in the hospital. She isn't sure if she would have been able to get much stronger otherwise.

"I'll give you another water bottle for the road," she promises her. "we'll make sure to stretch out before you go home." At least their accelerated healing made being sore a lot less of a problem.

"But I think that's enough for work today, don't you?" Evie pulls her hoodie back on and begins to walk to a spot further down the room. There, she had a few practice swords. They were dull, of course, though still metal. When you're a vampire, you don't have to worry about the messy side effects, but that doesn't stop her from grabbing two face masks similar to what a fencer might wear, and a glove for each of them, to protect their sword hand.

"Here." She tosses Caroline the sword. "Keep the tip down until it's time to start. Don't worry about hitting me. We're going to go to five touches." Plus, if she had Caroline swinging at her now, she could show off a little.

Caroline is very excited to see the swords, even if she knows this will be even harder, since she has no experience with them. But how cool would it be to change that?

The sword is heavy and it takes her a few moments for her to find a comfortable grip. "Does the touch have to be on the torso?" she asks, trying to remember anything she knows about fencing.

"Usually, if we were doing proper fencing." And if they were doing proper fencing, she would have htem in more than just masks and gloves. Like, protective covering.

But then again: vampires, and these things were metal. They were in no danger except via accidental decapitation. She doubted Caroline had the strength to do it, anyway, with her blunted sword.

She also doubted that Caroline would be able to best her, but then again, sometimes you didn't have to be good, you just had to be extremely lucky (or unlucky, as the case may be). "But, because it's your first time, no. You can hit anywhere above the waist." That was a more traditional saber style of fighting. Then again, fencing was very different from dueling and Evie was apt to teach her to duel.

Evie placed her mask on, and moved to the far-side of the mat. Bringing her sword up, she gave a small bow and salute of her weapon. "When you're ready."

Edited 2017-01-14 04:58 (UTC)

Caroline does the same and gets herself settled and ready. And then she stands there for a moment, realizing how much harder this will be than the sparring earlier. She remembers some advice about about watching her opponent's eyes to see where they would attack next that she must have picked up from a book or movie. Keeping that in mind, she moves forward, watching Evie closely while also trying not to telegraph what she was going to do too much.

The politics here are out of control. Ghoul isn't sure what to make of it all yet.

His uncertain fascination is no doubt how he's ended up here, at one of the many points of contact between Islington and East End territory. It looks odd, no doubt. A lone wolf prowling up and down the boundary line as if on some sort of patrol, albeit a pretty ineffective one. What could he possibly do on his own?

He stops at an area at random, facing Islington's side as he plants his hands at his hips and squints across the invisible line he's apparently not allowed to cross. He may not be able to touch the other side, but that doesn't mean he can't stare at it and think. With early evening slowly darkening the skies, he's got plenty of peace and quiet to do just that in.

Evie kept her eyes on Caroline, moving on the balls of her feet with an easy grace. She circles Caroline, letting her lead. She had no intentions of moving to attack until Caroline did the same.

It was going to be surprisingly hard not to show off.

Part of being a countess, Evie believes, is taking patrol. She wants to make sure that her territory was safe. She'd sworn an oath a long time ago to protect the people, and she wasn't going to let that change.

Tonight she's on the roofs, as she was most nights, when she catches sight of a young man (something about the way he dressed reminded her of the charming young artist Party) starring over into their territory. A scent on the wind informed her of what he was. A wolf.

She's not mad, she's not upset, what she is is curious. With little trouble at all, she descends in the shadows, landing on her feet silently. Removing her hood, she takes a step into the light.

"Hullo," she says- there's a hidden blade up her sleeve, but she appears unarmed. It was harder to pack heat on the street these days. Not everyone carried swords around anymore. Thank goodness. "What brings you out here tonight?" It's conversational, not accusing him of anything. Just simply curious. He's a young thing. And he's alone. She's not afraid.

A quick snap of adrenaline draws Ghoul's attention over to his new companion. It isn't enough to be classified as panic, although he's definitely alert now. She's pretty, he notes, but pretty doesn't mean safe.

Especially considering the tickle in his nose is telling him she's a vampire. He's a little wary, as he has reason to be. He's heard all about it by now, and if even half of Islington feels the same amount of hate towards werewolves as East End's alpha does against vampires, he's in some serious shit.

But this one hasn't done anything threatening yet. He figures the least he can do is be civil. He waves a brief greeting to her, then shrugs as he hides both hands away in his jean pockets. "Nothing. Felt like lookin' at stuff." Speaking of looking at stuff... he tilts his head, curious as to how long she's been lurking. He hadn't been able to pick her out, honestly. Everything over there smells like fresh vampire anyway. "You been followin' me?" His tone is much the same as hers. Nothing accusatory, just interested.

Hands in his pockets, alright. Evie keeps hers in the open. They're gloved, against the cold. Though she'd be lying if she said they didn't pack a little extra punch in the knuckles.

"No," she says simply. "If I were following you, I assure you we wouldn't be having this conversation." There's the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes. This man, he's American. So she doesn't assume he knows much of anything about their little world. For all she knows, this could just be a random encounter at the border.

"You been in London long?" She asks, conversationally.

That gets an odd look. He's not entirely sure what she's implying there, but whatever it is, he feels like it's probably dangerous. Then again, he could be off base completely. Lately his imagination has been running about as wild as one belonging to a kid who's just been read Stephen King before bedtime.

Doesn't mean this girl has to suffer for it, though, so he makes an effort to wipe the slightly sour look off his face. "Uh, not really. I got here a couple weeks ago now, I guess." After a moment, he adds, "You're all real weird," with a fleeting hint of a smile.

Hearing her call herself a whore just stabs a shard of glass right into his heart. He's heard others call her that before. Most of the time, he usually wants to beat the crap out of them. But now here she is using it herself. He wants to shake her by the shoulders until she understands where he's coming from.

"Dammit, don't do this!" He slams his fist down on the table hard enough to form a small, fist-shaped dent. That gets the worst of his anger out. It leaves a trail of worry and concern in his mind. How could he make her see that their association wouldn't cost them the election?

"I love you too. Look, we'll find another way around this. I know you're thinking this is the best solution, but it's not!" He ran his thumb over her knuckles. ""Please, sweet-pea. The power I get won't be worth much without you by my side."

The sudden movement causes her to give a little gasp, jumping back, away from his fist. Her green eyes fly open wide and she recoils, everything bright and loud in that moment.

No, this was Cooper. He wouldn't hurt her, he wasn't like that. But it was all too similar to the way he'd been after he'd walked in on her and a client. It was all too similar to how Bill so often was. And now every time she looked at the table, at the dent, she'd remember it.

But just like that, it's over, and her hand is back in his. She unfurls herself, pressing her lips together. "I don't know what to do, Cooper. I don't want to be the reason you don't win. You're clearly a better candidate than Cesare, and Jean-Claude has so much on his plate already, it's only right. But the world isn't like that, and just think how they'll see you! I can't do that to you. I can't."

Of course, the solution was simple. But she was blind to it.

Cooper sighs, running a hand through his fair-colored hair. She's so determined to do this for his own good. All he's wanted these past six months or so is more power and Nancy by his side. One without the other just isn't good enough anymore. She looks so fragile and vulnerable right now, a far cry from the tough girl who walked the streets every night and occasionally picked pockets.

He blinks hard, feeling a lump press up into his throat. "Don't I get say in this too? I don't want to break up with you. I'm gonna win that seat on the Night Council one way or another. If they try t'make a smear campaign out of our relationship, well, I've got plenty of ammunition to throw right back at 'em."

hazy shade of winter - january open post

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mid-jan? for evie!

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