Joscelin Fitzthomas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dredefulchilde) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2017-01-05 03:56 pm
dredefulchilde) wrote in undergrounds2017-01-05 03:56 pm
Entry tags:
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.
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.
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As far as Joscelin can tell, it's not boasting. He's stating simple fact.
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She's a realist.
"We'll call it the second part of your birthday present."