undergrounds | The Night Train

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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.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Party glances at the planter. It had been more a moment of feeling ill than a pointed political statement, but now that the dude mentions it, it's not an entirely inaccurate take on some of his feelings. It's almost poetic. Maybe he should get sick on their nice things more often.

"Not particularly. Think a strongly worded letter's more my grandma's M.O." There's just a hint of smirk on his lips as he looks up defiantly.

Ugh, mortals.

"And of course there's nothing in between," he says dryly, glancing at the planter one more time before he makes another disgusted noise and takes a few steps away. The fae may be party animals, but at least they have magic to clean up their messes.

Party shakes his head, grinning as what is probably a fairly obvious social cue just flies right over his head. "In between still sounds kinda boring, don't ya think? Should I stage a little protest of one? March around with a sign?"

"Honestly I don't really care," he says. Let the wolves make fools of themselves - it doesn't harm the fae as far as he can tell. "You should do whatever you think would be most helpful."

"'Cause you're so above it all?" Party rolls his eyes. At least he knows where he stands with all of these people. "You fucks don't got a car, either. You think they see you as better than us? 'Cause they don't, buddy."

Finnick laughs at that. It's a dry, scathing laugh, and he shakes his head. "I am under no disillusions about how the witches feel about me and my kind. I just choose to show my displeasure in ways that aren't vomiting in their planters."

"Like what?" He's got Party's attention and if he wants it off of him, they're going to need to see something shinier. That's just how Party rolls. "What're you up to?"

And back to rolling his eyes. Finnick really would like for all the wolves in the world to leave him alone for the rest of the evening and maybe for the rest of his life. His life which is very long by the way.

"If I was up to anything I probably wouldn't tell you," he says, "but I'm not up to anything tonight so you can rest easy."

"How come? Scared I'd do it better?" At this point, Party can't let it drop, can't let this guy get the last word on it, because Party knows what's happening here and he's not particularly good at conceding a point when he can push back at it instead.

"Of all the reasons to be afraid, that is very low on the list of possibilities," Finnick says in a bored way. In truth it's because he just plain doesn't trust anyone who isn't a court fae, but Party doesn't need to know that.

"Dunno. I'm pretty good at fuckin' shit up." Party clicks his tongue. If there's one thing other than his art that he's confident in, it's his skill for small-scale destruction and what most would consider to be embarrassing spectacle. "Are you? Seems like you're a little too prim an' proper for that kinda thing."

Finnick would rather deflect questions about himself than find a way to answer them without giving too much away. In some cases anything is too much and you can't be too careful, so it's like second nature to Finnick at this point.

"Is this a hobby of yours?" he asks, raising his eyebrow at Party again. "To guess everything about a person based on their reaction to your vomit?"

"Would be an oddly specific hobby. Maybe I'm just a people person." He raises an eyebrow, as if daring Finnick to dispute the claim.

Finnick laughs wryly at the joke he's about to make. "Actually you're a wolf person."

The jokes catches Party off guard and he can't help laughing. A joke hadn't really been on his list of expectations here. "Hey, I don't discriminate. I'm equal opportunity when it comes to sniffing butts."

"Well no offense but I'd prefer it you'd stay away from mine," he says, dry but with a touch of the humour he has in there somewhere.

"Don't worry, honey. You're not my type." No, Party's pretty sure they don't have the same idea of fun at all.

"Then congratulations on being one of the select few immune to my charms," Finnick says, dripping with smugness and sarcasm.

"Kinda full of yourself." Party laughs, but he's not really laughing at Finnick, at least not entirely. "'M sure someone 'round here'll throw you a bone."

And then he blows a kiss and walks away, somewhat wobbly on his feet and completely unaware of it.

The Night Train

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