The Night Train

[undergroundmods]

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It's the 22nd of January and the sun has disappeared behind the horizon. You're waiting at your nearest station when a sleek, metallic grey train pulls up at the platform. No one else can see it, only those who are aware of the supernatural world. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Night Train. Tonight the leaders of the Night Council will be making their annual introduction to the supernatural community – aboard a train that will make stops in every borough with a significant supernatural presence. Hop on and off whenever you like: this event is designed to be open to all. (Though for some reason the train won't be passing through East End or Seelie/Unseelie territory...)

The event takes place from 7pm-12 midnight Sunday 22nd January.

Rules of entry
• No weapons. Any weapons or objects that could be used as weapons will be confiscated.
• No drugs or alcohol except that provided at the event. Don't try to sneak any in.
• No violence. The train is cursed with a hex that will punish any trouble-causing passengers with a lightning strike. The Council doesn't mess around here.

Carriages
The train has five carriages, each one with a different theme. While the Night Council members are dispersed throughout the train, they are under no obligation to stay in their carriage and will likely move around to network and meet fellow members of the supernatural community. There are cameras and security guards in every carriage to ensure there is no trouble.

1) PRESIDENT / VICE PRESIDENT. At the front of the train is a carriage decked out as if for royalty. Surprisingly spacious, the carriage is decorated with gilt trimmings, a thick wine-red carpet and leather seating. Portraits of previous Presidents and Vice Presidents line the wall. Coffee, tea and wine is being served at tables interspersed throughout the carriage and finger sandwiches are available.

2) WITCH REPRESENTATIVE. The next carriage along belongs to the Witch Representative. It's rather like walking into a greenhouse: the entire place is full of herbs and other plants, and there are tables where you can sit and ask for advice or magical favours from witches with varying specialities: a healer, a herbalist, a psychic, a medium and a potions maker. Magical butterflies flutter along the ceiling and among the flowers like colourful lights. A small bar at the end of the carriage serves a variety of herbal teas.

3) VAMPIRE REPRESENTATIVE. The next carriage along belongs to the Vampire Representative. Decorated in a tasteful dark red, about half the carriage's length is taken up by a wine bar that serves a variety of alcoholic and blood-based drinks and snacks. The other half consists of leather seating where the seats face each other to allow guests to talk while enjoying a drink.

4) SHAPESHIFTER/META HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE. It seems that Yasmine decided her aim for the night was to let loose and avoid talking, since this carriage is basically a narrow dance floor. Club music blares out from speakers on the ceiling, there's a disco ball and strobe lighting, and all the windows are blacked out. A magical seal ensures that the noise is contained within this carriage, so you won't hear any of it until you step inside.

5) EMPTY CARRIAGE. There's nothing here apart from rows of seats that you might find on any ordinary train. A sign on the door says "WARNING: THIS CARRIAGE IS HAUNTED. KEEP OUT." If you ignore the sign and go in anyway, you might feel a sense of unease. The shadows seem unnaturally long and the lights will flicker on and off. Magically sensitive types will feel a strong sense of impending death and may experience visions of the seats being ripped apart and blood spattered on the walls. If you stick around even after that, the most magically sensitive person in the carriage will experience a vivid hallucination of their own death at the hands of a vampire. If you manage to endure that without fleeing, PM the mod to continue. (Don't worry, no one will die.)

Comments

[nightflowering]

A handshake! How novel!

While her body language is alien, the flutter of shifting lights and colours over her throat ought to convey that she's quite pleased as she takes his hand and shakes it in turn. "An unexpected delight, Mr. O'Neill'.

Her skin is warm to the touch and pebbled with tiny, smooth scales that feel more like a ray than a snake. In terms of anything else that Faolan can sense, she doesn't appear to have been involved in any large scale magic work lately. There's not much beyond a few small charms, a bit of repair for curious enchanted items, and a habit of popping in and out of the by-ways and less traveled paths of Faerie. She is more than moderately magically poisonous and venomous, but that's her natural state and not an active act.

[reticence]

Faolan isn't certain what to make of her reaction. Has she heard of him after all, perhaps? He opens his mouth to ask as much, or maybe something else along those lines, he's not exactly sure what, but then it comes over him.

The feel of scales against skin, sliding, scraping against him, smooth and warm, and Faolan's not sure whether they're real or imagined as he stands there dumbfounded holding her hand. There are other things too though. Sunlight, like he gets from Lancelot. Fae, she must be. Seelie, from the sunlight, but also. More, different. She is different, she is. Overwhelming, and Faolan is having a hard time determining for a moment what's real and what he is picking up with other senses.

He takes a careful step back before he embarrasses himself further. "A delight...?" He asks, carefully. Hoping he has not just made a fool of himself.

[nightflowering]

"Of course. I enjoy meeting new people and so few offer to shake hands." She smiles (or makes an equivalent expression) and leans in conspiratorially close to whisper, "Just between us, I think the scales tend to put them off, but I can't really claim to understand humans all that well. It's all a bit silly, don't you think? Why not enjoy the variety, the novelty of it all. The world is not just stranger than we suppose, but more than we can suppose."

"La, listen to me go on and on. I try to keep philosophy for the second date and you are within your rights to chastise me for it."

[reticence]

Faolan raises an eyebrow slightly. Isn't...shaking hands the way that one person is supposed to greet another. Of course, the more she talks the more he just finds himself -- overwhelmed, yes, he believes that that is the right word choice to use here. Also, something about her usage of the word 'date' in the same breath as the admission that yes, those had been scales, real ones under his touch, and not metaphysical ones that he'd felt through his newfound abilities, that starts to set him even further on edge.

"I'm not -- I didn't --"

[nightflowering]

"Of course not, and who could expect you to," she says as mild as milk while gently patting the back of his hand. Lan appears blithe and untroubled by whatever has bothered Faolan. "Come, friend, do you need a drink? I have been told that it often helps those who find themselves embroiled in conversation."

"And if I am being presumptuous by calling you 'friend', fear not, I do mean something by it, but nothing overtly or imminently harmful."

[reticence]

Faolan has absolutely no idea what to make of her. He has had little dealings with the fae beyond Lancelot, who hardly counts, and Eames, who presents himself in a decidedly less odd manner than Lan does herself. If there's one thing that might settle his nerves, though, it is a drink. Provided he doesn't drink too much, of course, but he's on the job so he figures he'll be able to stop himself before he gets that far. He hopes he will, at any rate.

"A drink," he repeats, nodding gratefully. "Yes, please." He hopes he's not offending her that he's hardly being wordy in return. It's just that she's so...

[nightflowering]

Not all of her opinions are negative, but Lan has several choice words about fae who deign to pass themselves off as no more than 'merely or almost human'.

"Excellent. I could use another glass myself." Deftly she winds her way through the crowd towards the bar. If Faolan doesn't seem bothered by it, she'll even take his arm in hers as they walk. "Tell me, what do you like to drink? I know that most here prefer beer or wine, but I suppose I'm too much the traditionalist. Cream and honey are my favourite, as fresh as can be."

[reticence]

Cream and honey... Faolan knows he's heard stories about fae like the one who's taken his arm so casually as she leads him towards the bar, but he'd never been certain that they had actually existed until now. He feels vaguely as if he's hallucinating again, although this time he knows that it's real. He doesn't know whether that's better or worse though.

"Whiskey," Faolan answers. He's going to need something strong to get him through this conversation. "I'll have whiskey for now, thanks. You... Lan you said your name was?" He's trying, really he is.

[nightflowering]

"I said I'm called Lan, there's a difference." Anyone who gives out their name willy-nilly gets what they deserve. "It's easy enough for most people to say and it gets the point across, don't you think?"

While there's coffee, tea, and wine on offer, anything else likely has to be purchased at a cash bar. Either way, Lan does not offer to pay for or pick up Faolan's drink. Whether he knows it or not, she's being exceedingly well-behaved. "And that's a fine choice. The water of life, isn't it?"

[reticence]

"Something like that, yeah." Faolan doesn't care whether he has to pay for the drink himself or not. He needs it, and he will happily hand over the cash to the bartender for it if it means he gets a harder drink than the wine or coffee that he'd otherwise get for free. He takes the whiskey with a nod to the man himself, taking a healthy swallow to fortify himself before turning to Lan again.

"So. They call you Lan, then," he corrects himself. "Forgive me for asking, but. Are you new in town? I haven't seen you at such events before." At least, he doesn't remember seeing her. Perhaps he'd been more affected by her glamour before his abilities had kicked themselves.

[nightflowering]

"I am, actually. I spent some time here a few years ago --" Decades, more like it. "-- and I've finally made it back. I had some work to do on the continent, but I've always had a soft spot in my heart for London."

When she smiles, the colours at the base of her throat ripple and change. Patterns swirl up and disappear, the hue shifts through blues, greens, and the occasional flicker of something brighter that almost glows. "And you? Are you fond of it?"

[reticence]

Faolan's accent gives him away as not being from around here, not originally at least. Truthfully, his accent puts him from somewhere around Belfast, which is true as well, though he hasn't been home in over a decade as well.

He shrugs slightly, swirling his drink in his glass for a moment as he considers his response. (Can everyone else see those colors, he wonders to himself, or is this just a new and exciting piece of his talent he's discovered.)

"I suppose that you could say that I am," he replies, after a moment's consideration. "It's a big city. It has something for everyone. I've found my own niche, in the end. If I hadn't, I'm not sure that I'd have stayed for as long as I did, in the end."

[nightflowering]

"I see, and what, pray tell, is your niche?" Lan briefly debates about seeing if she can keep Faolan unsettled just to see what he might do or say next. While so bothered, he was quite entertaining and certainly had the potential to be rather useful, but letting him recover may just end up being a little better.