The Underground

The invitations go out a week in advance. Some of which are hand written (ink on parchment, of course), to those of whom he wishes to see personally, though of course they are welcome to bring guests. The more the merrier, or so the saying goes. Especially in the case of such an event as this. Jean-Claude is vying for the spot of President of the Night Council, after all, and while the event is not technically connected to the election, timing is everything, mes amis. And what an event it is.

The instructions on the invitation are quite simple. There is to be a ball. But not just any ball, a Vampire Ball. If you are a vampire, an ally, or interested in becoming both, you are more than welcome to attend. It is a night to celebrate the collective history of the Nest of London. Formal historical costume is a requirement of attendance. Masks will be allowed as well, though the event is technically not a masquerade. All wood and silver will be checked at the door, for this is a night of entertainment.



The event is being held in a private historic home, presumably for the atmosphere. In the foyer there is a coat check (along with wood and silver check, courtesy of Guilty Pleasure's well-loved bouncers). The guests are funneled through from there into the main ballroom, where yes, there is a live string quartet playing. How did Jean-Claude afford such decadence? It helps when you have lived for so long as he has and have had very little to spend money on besides clothes and decadence. It certainly couldn't be his own private residence -- could it?

Off to the side of the ballroom is an array of chaise lounges and other sofas and chairs, while on the other may be located several tables of refreshments. It is clearly indicated which table is intended for the vampires and which is for those who are still among the living. There is another bouncer posted on watch over the refreshments, and the punch in particular -- they need not have a repeat of the last time someone spiked their drinks in such a fashion after all. There is quite a selection of finger foods on the table for those who are so inclined to partake in such delicacies, and there are offers of champagne, wine, and punch for that table. There are finger foods on the other table as well, although not as many, and each one has an accompanying card indicating the donor's name and blood type, just in case you were wondering why they were for the vampires.

The house is of course bigger than the ballroom and the foyer, but few guests are allowed to venture up the front stairs or beyond the little hall to where the restrooms are located. That does not mean, of course, that there are not those who manage to sneak past the little corded ropes meant to keep such troublemakers within check, especially when the bouncers are otherwise preoccupied. There are all sorts of fun rooms to explore.

And so many costumes from so many eras! Guests are encouraged to talk amongst themselves and share memories of the good old days for those lived through them, or ask questions if there are curiosities from those who did not. Today is a golden age, Islington Nest is at its strongest yet, and it is a time to celebrate what it is to be Vampire. There is more to such a life than drinking blood and having fangs, a sophistication and experience beyond the hunger. If nothing else, Jean-Claude hopes to share this with the attendees on this evening.

Which at least manages to begin without a hitch, but if you should manage to stay for the end of the night, prepare for some fireworks to ensue. For what is a party without a little drama...


(ooc note: anyone is welcome to attend, though if you are anti-islington you will not get very far in the door before being turned away. certain allies/those who have helped jean-claude in the past will have received direct invitations, but there is a general buzz passed around the nest and islington allies ahead of time that will have spread through the supernatural community leading up to the day itself. as stated above, historical costume is a must -- vampires are encouraged to wear something from an era they lived through, though humans are welcome to whatever they desire! masks are fun so wear one if you like though there will be no anonymity here.

details will be in jean-claude's comment below, but his ex, asher, is going to be crashing the party at the end of the night, so if you're there for the end of the evening expect that as well. i will make a comment for asher as well on his own so you can tag with him before the main event if you decide you'd like to skip out on the fireworks as he and jean-claude butt heads for the first time in hundreds of years.)

Jean-Claude sits in the office of Guilty Pleasures, staring down at the account book laid before him on the desk. He is usually a lot more productive than he finds himself at such a time as this, but the air in the room is somewhat oppressive with the weight of time and memory that he feels bearing down on him, and he finds it difficult to concentrate on much of anything for long periods of time. The city is in turmoil over this business with the witches and the fae, and the wolves have begun causing trouble of their own.

He has made decrees of his own in response to these problems -- all vampires sympathetic to the Daybreak cause are to be expelled from the Nest. And the wolves? Well, since they were going about killing any vampire on sight that set foot in East End Pack territory, Jean-Claude made his own declaration in return. Any werewolf caught trespassing will be subject to punishment of that vampire's choice. He does not want an all-out bloodbath on his hands, to decree that they might kill on sight in return would be downright foolhardy. But he cannot let this go either. Perhaps he should have thought things through more, but he had been a bit preoccupied of late.

And that preoccupation had everything to do with the new portrait hanging on the wall above his couch. New, in the sense that it had not been there before, but definitely not new in age. Oil on canvas, painted over five hundred years ago, depicting three people dressed in the style of the 1600's. The woman wears white and silver with a square bodice showing quite a bit of decolletage, her brown hair styled in careful ringlets, with a red rose held loosely in one hand. A man stands behind her, tall and slender, with dark gold hair in ringlets over his shoulders. He has a mustache and a Vandyke beard, so dark gold they are nearly brown. On his head he wears a large floppy hat with feathers, his entire outfit of white and gold. It is the third that the onlooker will recognize. Seated just behind the woman, dressed in black with silver embroidery and a wide lace collar and cuffs, he too has his own wide-brimmed floppy hat, with a single quite feather and a silver buckle, this one black. Though he does not wear it, instead resting it across his lap. His black hair falls in ringlets across his shoulders, and his face is clean-shaven, his eyes strikingly blue even despite the medium. The other two depicted are smiling, but the third man -- Jean-Claude -- is solemn. A darkness to their light.

Jean-Claude does not know why Belle decided to send this painting to him. He has not gathered the courage in himself to ask, just yet. Neither has he gathered the courage to do anything with it but hang the piece on his wall. It is a reminder of what feels now as if a different life. He should have known, as the portrait artist had done, that he would bring a darkness in their lives. These two people he had cherished the most in all the world. Julianna. Asher. How happy they had been...

He pushes himself back from the desk with a sigh, feeling their gazes heavy upon himself. He will get no work done on this night. Perhaps he should take a turn about the floor of the club instead. Though he doubts that will do much to lighten his mood.

[ooc: feel free to visit him being maudlin in his office, or as he mopes around on the floor, or perhaps once he has found himself a corner of the bar and a glass of wine to nurse as well! c: ]

((ooc: plotting thread here, for reference!))

Because of the nature of Guilty Pleasures itself, Jean-Claude had not noticed that anything was afoot at first. Saturdays are Ladies' Nights (not when they invite the ladies as clientele like most other clubs would use the term, but rather when they invited the female dancers to participate as well). For a weekend, it brought in a larger array of people and thus more revenue for the club itself. And thus because Cherry was not due for another full day yet, it was not until he was pulled aside by her on again, off again lover and fellow dancer, Zane, that he understood what a grave error he had made indeed. For Cherry was not answering Zane's texts, and even though they were not currently sleeping together, she would never go the day without at least letting him know why she was so quiet.

It did not bode well. The fact that Millicent had issued the statement earlier in that day that in celebration of her victory, her vampires were given permission to hunt, feast, kill, and turn whomever they so desired, and the ensuing chaos that had begun in the wake of that is hardly a coincidence. Nor is the fact that Cherry, Jean-Claude knows for a fact, had been the dancer he'd chosen to play Millicent in his little display of politics the month previously.

No, it doesn't bode well at all, and after Jean-Claude's own attempts at contacting her are met with a phone call gone straight to voicemail and text messages about payroll left unanswered (which would never happen for anything short of a disaster), he knows that he has a kidnapping on his hands. And he need not exercise too much imagination to understand who it is that might have taken her. The trouble is, how to get her back without landing himself in even more trouble with the Duchess herself. The answer? Crowd sourcing.