undergrounds | I Know What You Did Last Century (closed to Natasha)

It had all been a surprising coincidence. Cesare had merely been chatting about the political climate as he always did, when he mentioned Natasha in passing. Someone happened to know about Natasha. Know a lot, in fact. And eventually, as more drinks were poured and they had some discussions, so did Cesare.

Now, part of Cesare thinks he should keep this information to himself. After all, he might need it at some point. But another part of him, the more persuasive part, is too tempted to watch Natasha squirm. She's always been so composed and stoic. Cesare is curious to find out if, all in good fun, he can make that facade crack.

He invites her to afternoon drinks, as he's grown accustomed to doing. (After all, it's always helpful to keep the door to fellow vampires open when they've chosen to sit on the wrong side). For Natasha at least, it seems like any other day.

"How have you been?" he asks politely, standing when she enters because he's a gentleman like that. And also because he's old as sin.

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"Not that she's told me," Natasha says, both an honest answer and one that commits to very little. Sylvia hasn't confided any more in her than that, and it casts anything Natasha says after it as based on little more than her own casual observation.

"I think her role is changing, but she's not the type to give up all her work for... I don't know, crochet? Baking pies?"

Whatever it was women were supposed to do when they inevitably retired from public life.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Cesare replies with a shrug and a smirk. "If I could bake, I might give that a go at some point. For a couple of years at least. I have no interest in crochet though." He's deliberately trying to play nice at this point, show some good will, keep her with him.

"You haven't had much news for me lately. It certainly seems like she's winding down to me."

"Winding down," Natasha repeats as though tasting the words, settling into the conversation. She weighs her response to that carefully. "That might be. I think she wants to give Samantha space to take on her role without the old Mother of Witches breathing down her neck."

"Maybe once you've reached the peak of power, you just get bored and need to switch it up?" He ponders, a slight bitterness in his tone. How Sylvia managed to acquire so much power at such a young age is a frustrating mystery to him.

He leans back in his seat, rocking the edge of his glass back and forth on the the table as he thinks.

"Things are changing though. You can see that, right? Now that Sylvia's stepped down, we're on the cusp of a big shift, if you ask me." It's not a warning of his own plans. At this point in time, he has barely tried to put them into action. Has hardly considered it. But instead it's an acknowledgement of the opportunity that's there. If he does not use it, someone else will.

"Things are always changing." She doesn't say it to be dismissive. It's a fact of reality, in their world as much as any other. She's not nearly as old as him, but she's lived long enough for most human careers to have become short. And she's grown used to the idea that as long as she can manage not to die, she'll outlive most regimes. "Sometimes they change faster than others, but..."

She shrugs. "I do wonder if you're not overestimating the depth of Sylvia's control. She had a lot of influence. Still has some. But she's not quite the boogieman some people make her sound like. She's still just human."

Cesare thinks Natasha has a reasonable head on her shoulders but he also thinks her youth is showing. She can't tell the difference yet between the little, inevitable shifts and the larger ones. She can't predict it yet. She will eventually.

"A human who gained three factions, including the presidency, within a few years. That is almost unprecedented." He leans back and takes a sip of his drink, shrugging.

"I can understand you wanting to protect her, though, talk her down as if she's not as strong as everyone thinks." After everything, Natasha is still a part of Redbright Institute. Cesare tried to sway her, but he knows where her allegience lies.

"Not so surprising, given the context. It's not what you'd call a normal situation." Natasha shrugs it off, as though Sylvia's influence doesn't impress her much. If Cesare thinks that's her naivete showing, that doesn't hurt her much.

"Where else could that even happen?"

"Oh, I don't know. The concept of one ruler holding control over all parties does seem familiar for some reason... I feel like there might be a word for that..." He falsely ponders, clearly searching for the word dictator. Natasha can try to make Sylvia look better and less threatening all she likes. Cesare will still abhor her.

"Maybe it's happened a few times in history, perhaps?" He gives her a look before rolling his eyes.

Natasha blinks slowly, not rising to this bait. She's recovered her composure enough to be ready for this, and while he may be older than her, Natasha has experience in this area. She remembers Stalin. Sylvia Redbright is no Stalin.

"Don't you think you're being a little over-dramatic about this? She never had control of all parties, and she's already abdicated her position with Daybreak. Peaceful exchange of power and all."

"What makes you so sure she's given up her power willingly? Or even done so at all? She nominated Samantha, after all, didn't she? I'm sure you're familiar with puppet governments..."

He knows that's not the case. There's no puppet here, at least not from Samantha. But Natasha doesn't need to know that. The more doubt he casts on to everyone else, the trickier it is to track his allegiances.

"I'm sure plenty of people were called dramatic before they were proven right." He sips his drink a little smugly.

"If Sylvia were pulling Samantha's strings, I wouldn't expect her policies to be such a sharp departure. Would you?" Natasha keeps the tone light, her skepticism rooted in no special information.

If he wants to stir suspicion, he'll need something more than suggestions.

"But I suppose you're right about that." Softening her push back.

Cesare shrugs. She does have a point, even he has to admit that.

"Unless one of them is keeping their true goals quiet," he says as he sips his drink.

"But enough of politics. Tell me how you're doing. I hear that you and Ms. Frye have been getting along rather well..." He says it with a smile. News travels pretty easily in this city, especially when you're old enough to know a lot of people with loose tongues. "She's a lovely young woman."

"I would say we are." If Natasha were in a relationship with anyone else, this might feel like a veiled threat. Evie is very capable of taking care of herself, though, and she doesn't think Cesare would be that brazen with another member of the nest. "I'm very lucky."

I Know What You Did Last Century (closed to Natasha)

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