undergrounds | Magical Innovation Centre: The Grand Opening

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Magical Innovation Centre: The Grand Opening

It's evening in Richmond and the grand opening of the Magical Innovation Centre is about to begin. Doors open at 6.30pm with the event closing at 10pm. This is a black tie event, so get out your evening gowns and tuxedos. You won't be allowed in if you're wearing trainers or jeans.

Fae are forbidden from entering. Any fae who wish to sneak in must do so under a glamour and are likely to be discovered and kicked out if they linger for too long. Alternatively, they could pretend to be in service to one of the witches attending the event, if they have any witch allies willing to do that. Fae already in service to Circle Daybreak are the exception to the rule and this will be the first Daybreak event where a number of witches in attendance will be accompanied by their familiars in various forms. Ever since Samantha took her crown as Mother of Witches with a certain cat on her lap, familiars have started to become fashionable again.

Order of Events
6.30-7pm: Doors open
The first half hour allows time for guests to arrive and mingle. There's strict security around the centre: everyone who enters must sign in and get a name badge at the reception desk.

7-7.30pm: Samantha's speech
Standing on the staircase in the foyer, the Mother of Witches will address her audience with a speech to announce the opening of the centre.

7.30-8.30pm: Tour of the centre
During this hour, guests can join a tour of the centre. There will be three tours of around fifteen minutes each. Guests will be shown the following:

• Starting in the main foyer, the tour guide will give a brief overview of the centre's purpose.
• Next, the Potions Lab, which looks very much like any modern lab except that the bottles on display are magical rather than chemical.
• Then, the Pentacle Room which is an empty classroom with several intricate pentacles drawn on the floor. Cabinets along one wall hold shelves of herbs and charms that are used to strengthen or protect the pentacles, as well as shelves of spellbooks. An empty iron bird cage sits on one of the cabinets. This room is where witches can work together to perform powerful magic or to summon fae from the Other Realm.
• Then, the Botanical Garden which is what it sounds like. Herbs and plants of many kinds are grown here, and there are tables where witches can cut and dry the plants to prepare them for use in spellcraft and potion-making.
• Finally, the Magic Lab which looks very much like the Potions Lab except that there's more space. This is where witches will experiment with creating new spells.

The tour is guided and guests may only spend a limited amount of time in each room. They can't go back to the rooms after they're closed; security is tight and anyone trying to sneak around will be quickly spotted.

8.30-10pm: Networking
The rest of the event is open for mingling. There are information stands in the main foyer where witches are handing out leaflets outlining the purpose of the centre and inviting witches to join. If you're not a witch, you can still look and ask questions, but you can't register your interest to work or study at the centre. There's also a screen playing an artfully shot video of Samantha and several young witches looking alternately mystical and windswept on a moor, then clever and industrious in one of the laboratories. Tradition meets the modern world.

Coffee, champagne and canapes are all available, and are served by handsome fae waiters dressed in sparkly blue tuxedos. Despite several setbacks (none of which will be mentioned by Samantha or any of the staff) including the recent loss of Croydon to the Seelie and Unseelie Courts, it seems that Circle Daybreak is still intent on portraying an image of success. The Daybreak fae here are tame, well-mannered and subservient. Everything is under control.

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Samantha Okeke
It's a big day for Samantha. This is the day she promised to Circle Daybreak when she first became Mother of Witches and she's proud to make good on her word so soon.

She addresses the audience from the middle platform of the staircase and she does look rather good if she says so herself, elegant and poised in her high heels and satin dress. Mogget is at her feet, the cat hunkering down on one of the steps to observe the guests below.

Her speech starts with a number of thank yous, praising the witches who worked so hard to make this happen. She gives a potted history of the events leading up to tonight's grand opening. Tonight, she is pleased to declare that the Magical Innovation Centre is open for business. Then she lifts her chin, the ring of passion in her voice.

"Creativity. Excellence. Innovation. These will be our guiding principles as we work with magic old and new to find ways of bettering the lives of witches across the country. We will use the latest scientific methods to research and test new potions and enchantments. We will fund long-term studies to explore and deepen our understanding of the supernatural. And we will share our knowledge with the wider community, giving you greater freedom and greater control over your craft. I want the work done in this centre to be for everyone. That means it has to be open to every witch in Circle Daybreak. No matter what your background is, no matter what walk of life you come from, we are looking for talent, passion and dedication. If you think you have what it takes to make a difference, please talk to one of our representatives."

"This place, this building, is the realisation of a pledge that I made to you when I accepted the honour of becoming your Mother. But the full realisation of its potential can only be achieved by all of us, working hard, working together. I can't wait to start."

She smiles, pausing for a moment before going on. "The creation of this Centre has been made possible through the generosity of our sponsors at the Night Council. Thank you all. And its continued development can only be made possible with your help. That's why tonight we're also asking for donations. Whether you're a member of Circle Daybreak or not, whether you're a witch or not, you can sponsor our project and help make this dream into a reality. If you'd like to make a pledge, please go to the reception desk or approach our representatives. Every donation, no matter how small, will be gratefully received."

She goes on to say that there will be the opportunity to take a tour of the centre and that more information is available at the stands for anyone who wants to know more about the project they're sponsoring. Finally, she closes with a reiteration of her belief that every witch should have the opportunity to realise his or her full potential. That's her promise as Mother of Witches, and she intends to keep it.

"Thank you."

And that's it. She descends the staircase with regal grace to a round of applause. Behind her, Mogget transforms into a white-haired man in a white suit and follows, joining the party in human shape. Time to mingle.

If you're rich or important, she wants to talk to you and she likely will approach with a glass of champagne in hand, a smile dimpling her cheeks. "So, what do you think?"

If you're neither of those things, she doesn't give a shit. But she'll play nice if you approach her, because this is a public event and she has to look good at all times. Lucky you.

Others
The werewolf alpha Katherine Moore is here and so is almost every witch on the Elites list, so let me know if you want to grab any of them! The one notable exception is Sylvia Redbright, who claimed to have other commitments. She will not be attending the event.

After 7.30pm, networking
Mogget is in human form and he'll stay like that for the rest of the night. Samantha gave him special permission to do so after her speech and it isn't often he gets to walk around on two legs while there are witches nearby, so he'll take the opportunity for as long as he can. Not just any human form either, this one is tall. He can barely remember the last time he was this height. There's six feet of pale, white-haired human walking around and the perspective from up here is certainly different from what he's used to.

It's difficult to tell how old he's meant to be. His hair is white but neither thin nor receding, and his upright posture and the few lines on his face seem to indicate a man in his thirties or forties. His suit is pure white, not a speck of dust on it, except for the red leather belt that's half-hidden by his suit jacket. Strangest of all, on the strap of his belt buckle there hangs a silver bell, one that Mogget is at pains to hide, either resting his hand on the buckle or drawing his jacket over it.

Unlike Samantha, Mogget isn't here to woo the rich and influential. His instructions are different. He's here partly as security, partly as a spy, his main task being to identify potential enemies or naysayers who might be lurking in this room. Anyone who seems unhappy with Samantha, with Circle Daybreak, or with the Centre itself. He'd watched the faces of the audience carefully when Samantha delivered her speech to give him an idea of where to start.

That's why you may or may not find Mogget's green eyes watching you as he sips his champagne. It's when he catches someone's eye that he acknowledges their presence, lowering his glass. "Tedious, isn't it?"

Oh goodness, oh my. Who's that handsome gentleman accompanying Arthur tonight? Keiran smiles easily, watching this evening with an expression that seems fascinated at almost all times, like seeing the Christmas lights in the West End for the first time.

He's definitely not memorising the faces of any fae he sees around the room or trying to spot any holes in security, not at all. It's just the keen eye of someone who's excited from witnessing something so new! So innovative!

(It's a little difficult to maintain the facade when the tour takes them to the Pentacle Room, but he manages with a thoughtful expression. One that makes sense for a man who's never seen this sort of thing before.)

For most of the night, he sticks relatively close to Arthur, but once the speech and the tour are over he lets the leash on his curiosity a little slack. Asking questions of the witches — what made them want to follow Samantha, what their hopes for the centre and the future are, how they're planning to run a place like this, ect. — but he never sticks in one conversation too long. Often looking like a photoshoot come to life with a glass of champagne in his hand, he'll often sidle up to anyone who doesn't look fully convinced by all this (especially anyone who's less than magically-inclined) with a smile that's a touch sympathetic and a touch wry.

"Not impressed?"

Arthur has an easy excuse to be here tonight, but his real motivations are twofold. He takes a great amount of personal curiousity in the way Daybreak is behaving as of late, and tonight seemed like an unmissable event if he wants to keep an eye on their next steps. He's also here helping Eames' cover, appearing to be a distracting and charming face whenever he needs a little bit of misdirection. Arthur's happy to do it; it gives him an excuse to ask questions he might not feel entitled to ask if he weren't part of the operation, and having a date to these kinds of things always makes them a little more bearable during the lulls.

When he's not with Eames, Arthur mingles easily, asking inoffensive questions about the Centre and about Daybreak in general. He's knowledgeable enough about the magic to be insightful but he certainly feigns ignorance whenever it seems like it might benefit him to do so. During the tours he's the appropriate amount of curious and interested, showing no feelings this way or that on what Samantha's plans for Daybreak are.

It's easy enough to pretend this is all interesting and exciting when there's someone to bounce off, and Eames easily masks his conversations with Arthur behind smiles and affectionate touches.

It's a lot harder when the fae servers come out, and Eames immediately bristles at the sparkly tuxedos that come out with trays of drinks and canapes. It's fucking abhorrent, and Eames has to bite back his scowl. Even worse for his inability to do anything — no amount of anger is going to make him stupid enough to lash out in a room full of witches — and he turns a little to Arthur. Puts a hand on his chest in an affectionate enough gesture to look like they're sharing an intimate moment, and tilts his head to murmur in Arthur's ear.

"Talk me out of doing something stupid."

Arthur can sympathize, at least. He knows parts of this must be hard for Eames, even if he can't sense exactly what's going on. The waiters make him wonder if Samantha would be so brazen as to flaunt bound fae right in front of her guests, but that's not his focus right now.

He smiles warmly to keep up the facade of an intimate moment.

"There's no point in blowing it now," he says softly.

"Fucking servers." He ducks his head, hiding his expression for a moment until he's got his face under control. "I don't know which part of this to be the most insulted by."

No wonder fae were banned.

Arthur noses at Eames' temple, affectionate and soothing. "It's just a show of power," he says. "This won't be how it looks in the end."

God, he wants to believe that.

Eames deflates a little, sighing. He doesn't even know what he would do if he did anything, but that doesn't make him feel any better about all this.

So he tries to change track instead, looking at Arthur with his eyebrows raised and a smirk tugging at his lips. "You sound pretty sure of that."

Arthur gives him a wry look before he glances around at the rest of the party. He knows the best thing to do would be to distract Eames from the terrible reality right now, even though he's not sure how good he is at that.

"Do you doubt my faith?" he asks, all coy and smooth.

Cesare is acting as a bit of a scout today. He has friends, of course, eyes and ears who are happy to pass on any important information, but Cesare would like to see this firsthand. So he finds himself in the crowd at the centre, listening to Samantha's speech and enjoying a tour about the facility. You never know how useful it might be in the future to know the floor plan of a place, after all.

He's wearing full black tie: a double breasted tuxedo with satin lapels and patent shoes. When it comes to dressing appropriately for an occasion, Cesare does not mess around.

He smiles at Samantha and takes a couple steps towards her, lifting his glass a little.

"It's all very impressive, isn't it? And that was a good speech. It could almost sway me."

Anyone who knows Evie's sure to know what exactly it is she's doing here. This Magical Innovation Center was an interesting idea, but it's not the concept that intrigues her the most. No, it's Samantha and her crusade against the fae that's got her attention.

So yes, she's doing some good old fashioned reconnaissance.

Dressed in an emerald green jump suit, heels and a blazer, Evie looks right at home at the black tie event. Keeping to the shadows, refusing to draw attention to herself, she's gone on the tour a few times, at this point. Each time, she keeps wanting to come back to the pentacle room. Oh, she knows what's going on in there.

Those iron cages had sent a chill through her spine.

Slavery was wrong. No matter who you were, no matter what you were, it was wrong. And here was this young, presumably progressive woman, toting the benefits of it. And now showing it off?

Things weren't looking good at all.

He's an odd looking man, and Evie can tell out-right that he's fae. She can smell him anywhere. Though she doesn't recognize him as Samantha's familiar, she knows that he must be a familiar, in order to be here to begin with.

She keeps her back straight when he speaks, looking at him carefully over the top of her wine glass.

"It could be worse- hours of speeches and ceremony."

Despite feeling very out of place, Ghoul is... around. He'd arrived with a small group of wolves, but unlike the rest of them he'd never gone inside or even tried to do so. He made his opinion known about the dress code days ago, insisting he ain't wearing that shit or something to that effect, so he'd banished himself to grounds-only status before he'd ever stepped foot on the property. It's all right with him, though. He doesn't have to pretend to be classy or polite out here.

He passes the time by watching guests come and go (sometimes waving or saying a quick hi/bye to a few he recognizes), getting the stink-eye from guards and giving it right back, and wandering the premises. Generally not too close to the building, because he's Not Fancy Enough, but he's always lurking somewhere. For Katherine's sake.

Vampires. Mogget hates vampires. There are a few of them at this event, instantly recognisable by the sense of death lurking just beneath the surface. They're not much better than walking corpses, really, the thin veneer of life keeping their hearts beating after they should have long since crumbled into dust. He pays particular attention to the vampires in the crowd, however, knowing that Jean-Claude's announcement means that any Islington vampires must either be against Circle Daybreak or leave the nest. Which means that any of them here are most likely spies. The bright emerald of this one's jumpsuit makes her easy to follow.

"True," Mogget agrees, taking a step closer before glancing around at the witches working on the stands. "But less time for speeches means more time for you to part with your money. That is if you intend to make a donation."

He's not going to try and convince her to make one. That's not his job tonight. But her answer might tell him something of her opinion on this whole 'project', as Samantha calls it.

Evie allows a smile to cross her face, and she looks up at the tall man as if appraising him. "How right you are," she says. "And I just might. I've been quite impressed with what I see so far." Impressed was certainly one word for it. Evie would have been inclined to use disgusted, but what was to say they were mutually exclusive? She knew better than to insult the host of an event.

She also knew better than to reveal herself as a spy.

Though, come to think of it, was it really spying if you were here for your own curiosity?

He could probably make them believe he's in service to Nancy, but where is the fun in that? These posh events aren't really the Dodger's type of thing, he prefers much more informal things. That being said, that fact that they have been firmly told they weren't allowed in meant that he was going to sneak in. He's even wearing a better jacket than usual and while his hat is still firmly perched on his head, it looks... tidier some how. More presentable.

He's looking for the food. Food is always the best place to be.

Talking of the 'Not Fancy Enough'...

"Didn't think this was yer style," the Dodger greets with a grin, flicking the brim of his hat in Ghoul's direction. He liked the wolf - and his friend. They were good sorts of people. Plus they seemed to be up for more laughs than most.

At least vampires usually dress well. That's one thing they have going for them. The other thing is that they're often filthy rich, especially the old ones, and when one is looking for funding for a rather expensive project... well. She'd approach every Islington vampire here if it weren't for Jean-Claude's annoying and frankly hurtful statement trying to turn his vampires against her. She would never have imagined that a vampire of all people would have a bleeding heart for the fae.

Cesare, though, Cesare might be different. She knows he has ambitions of his own; last they talked he'd expressed his disappointment at not making it to Vampire Representative. And despite whatever Jean-Claude said, he seems willing to talk to her.

She lifts her glass in return. "Almost? Tough crowd." Her eyes flick over his attire. "Nice tux."

He looks good, even if he does turn out to be a spy. But is he here on behalf of Jean-Claude or does he have his own agenda? That's what she wants to find out.

Ghoul turns towards the voice, grinning immediately. Now this is more his type of company. "Don't think it's much of yours, either. What're you hauntin' around here for?"

The Dodger shrugs. "They say certain people ain't allowed. I hear that, I decide I'm coming on principal. Ain't right, barrin' some folks from a party." He gives a smirk, because of course he's out to cause some mischief.

He raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his champagne. "So you're not from Islington?"

If she is, then making a donation would go against the Nest's rules. Either she's lying or she's not what he suspected, but either way he might as well call her bluff.

He's a clever one. She's impressed.

"I am for now," she explains. "But I've been considering other options." She takes a moment to run her tongue along the top row of her teeth, and then take a meaningful sip of champagne.

Ah, that. Yeah. He'd heard something about that. Fae aren't allowed inside, right? His expression looks more like a cringe than anything when he says, "Really don't think they'd wanna be in there anyway." Seems like it'd be similar to a baby goat prancing through a den of hungry lions. An unbound fae going in there is practically begging to be captured.

"You're goin' in there though, for real?" That gets a little laugh out of him, at least. "You got more fire'n I do. I ain't even dressin' up for my own funeral, so I'm sure not gonna do it for this thing."

"It's the point of the thing," he says, giving a shrug. Whether he wants to be there or not isn't the matter. He behaves in a certain way, and there's just things he has to do when words are uttered. The code of the Artful Dodger is personal, complex, and stuck to.

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Magical Innovation Centre: The Grand Opening

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Definitely Not Eames

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Samantha

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Sneaking In [ota]

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