undergrounds | They say it's your birthday - Open to Islington Nest and Allies

6 January - Islington

Even after all this time, the amount of change that can take place in a simple twelve month span is still surprising.

Just one year ago, Joscelin been newly returned to London, scratching out a living on the fringes of vampire society and forced to attach himself to various mind-controlled individuals for a steady supply of blood. Now he's sitting in an expensive flat at the heart of Islington territory, a significant--if deliberately less visible than many others--player in Nest politics. Hunting for sport's been banned by the new regime he helped put in place, which is unfortunate, but he doesn't go hungry and it's still something of a novelty to feed from a completely willing donor.

And, most importantly, Millicent's gone.

It still doesn't quite feel real. So much has changed since the summer. Long experience has told him that Fortune's Wheel is rarely still, but a temporary respite is not unwelcome. Not when his star is on the ascendant, the same as Jean-Claude's.

Well, he can think about that later. It's January again, and that means it's his birthday.

This year, he's decided to throw a little party. Nothing big, nothing which would attract the attention of those he still doesn't want to upset. Just a few close friends (which he doesn't have, but it's the most applicable term here), some wine, and a bit of cake.

No candles, though. They wouldn't all fit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't doubt it. Besides, it's a way to pass the time." Not one she particularly enjoys, but who's she to judge? She doesn't dwell on it either way. "Sort of what I was thinking about when I got you this. You'll need someone else though."

Natasha might have grown up on the street, but she wasn't raised so poorly as to show up to someone's birthday without a gift.

When he opens it, he'll find a chess board. Rather nice, in black and stainless steel. She has no idea if he plays, but Natasha figures if he doesn't care for it, no harm done.

Joscelin does open the gift, right then and there in front of Natasha, with an eagerness that is much more fitting for a boy of twelve than his true age of six hundred and eighty years. His eyes light up when he sees the chess set. It's sleek and modern and quite attractive.

"Do you play?" he asks, indicating the game. Joss certainly does. His father had shown him the ropes during his brief mortal life, and he'd honed his skills through the centuries. "It would be a nice change of pace to play with someone other than Jean-Claude or mind-controlled humans."

"I've been known to play from time to time." She would like to think she has a good mind for it too, though she knows better than to brag. Experience goes a long way and she has relatively little to judge from his reaction. She had hoped he'd appreciate it.

"It's the kind of game that people like us ought to take up. For a lot of reasons."

Joscelin nods his agreement. "There are those of us who would do well to remember its particular lessons. Raymond Harris, for instance." A smile crosses his face as he remembers the glorious bloodbath that had been the Harris's demise.

"I've been playing since I was about eight years old, and I find that sometimes the game can still surprise you."

"People like Raymond don't do well at chess. They're just trying to get as much as they can at the moment. They're not thinking about their future moves." That was something Natasha's sire had stressed to her, about vampires and about dictators, since both had been relevant. They had all of the time in the world, as long as they were careful. They had to understand playing the long game. Dictators didn't think that way. They played for the moment.

Of course, he'd been thinking of Stalin when he said that, and his own long game had been cut short, but the lesson stuck.

"I'd love to play you sometime. Can't promise any surprises, though."

"You're new," Joss shrugs. "That's enough of a change of pace. I don't often get to play with new people." He can't exactly sit in the park and play with strangers, given the whole 'lack of a daylight ring' problem.

"I do hope Jean-Claude considers his future as well. I think he will. He's older and tends to take a longer view of things."

"I'd like to think he will. He's smarter than he lets on." That last part is said with a little humor. She wasn't sure of it, the first time or two they spoke. She was too busy being suspicious of London's vampires to consider their virtues.

"You're right. I am new. And I'd be happy to play again sometime."

Joscelin actually smiles, for once. "It's a date, then," he says, and finds that he's actually excited by the prospect. There is something very odd about Natasha Romanoff. He finds her frustruating and confusing at best, obnoxiously naive at worst. And yet he continues to spend time with her. There are days when he finds himself craving her company and her conversation. It's contradictory and damnably annoying.

And he really is looking forward to beating her at chess.

"I'll bring my best." Natasha smiles back, both pleased to find something that interests Joscelin that doesn't involve violence and because she's curious how the game will go. Not because she thinks she'll win. Not the first time they play, at least. But because there are so many different ways to lose.

"You'd better. You won't last very long without it."

As far as Joscelin can tell, it's not boasting. He's stating simple fact.

He's probably not wrong. Only one way to find out, and Natasha's not going to oversell her skill before she knows what she's actually up against.

She's a realist.

"We'll call it the second part of your birthday present."

They say it's your birthday - Open to Islington Nest and Allies

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject