A. What Do Vampires Do Best?

So, Cooper had won the seat on the Night Council. He had to admit that he wasn't sure that he was going to win the election. The competition had been fierce. But apparently the vampires of London had their heads screwed on straight. When he found out the news, he immediately let out a whoop and holler. Then he remembered that he was now a representative and now had to act with more decorum. He'd accepted the position gratefully.

So how to celebrate? Well, there was the traditional vampire method. He was throwing a party in his apartment, which let's face it, was spacious enough for about three parties going on at once. Everyone was invited. Yes, everyone, even those from factions the Nest was in conflict with, or those people that Cooper didn't particularly personally care for. He wanted it to be known he wasn't just exclusively about vampires and was willing to work with other supernatural types for the greater good. It was as good a time as any to approach with any issues other vampires may have wanted him to approach the Council about.

While he is his usual cheerful self as he goes around greeting everyone, those who know Cooper well will notice that he seems a bit distracted. Lately, he's been picking up on the emotions of those around him. It's not entirely a surprise. These things sometimes happen to vampires when they sire a certain number of vampires, or in Cooper's case, reach a certain age. However, suddenly developing empathic powers can be hard to adjust to. Knowing when everyone's lying, feeling sad, or suddenly horny is not the best thing in the world.

B. With Great Power...

Despite his usual irreverent personality, Cooper is taking his duties seriously. Now they're double-fold thanks to being both a Marquess and the Representative. Only one thing to do when he's got a list of vampires who all want to talk to him about their grievances. Out comes the motorcycle and off into London he goes. First up was the lawyer who specialized in keeping vampires out of trouble. Getting some of them to obey the laws of London and actually serve their sentences when they were caught by mortal police was a pain. Occasionally, calling in for back-up in the form of the Marquess was required.

He went along his day, checking in on one of his favorite blood donors to make sure she wasn't being taken advantage of by the older vampires in the nest. After talking to Shady Heavens, the infamous drag queen and her tally of grievances that ran sky high, Cooper decided he needed a break. Stopping at a fish 'n chips place, he was perched on his motorcycle, gnawing away at his lunch, and occasionally drinking from a flask of blood at his hip. He was bracing himself against the brushes of emotions he kept feeling from different passerby. Oh, he would be so glad when he got this new gift under control.

C. Wildcard!

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Cooper was more than just a little dissatisfied with the way things were being run by Harris right now. He wasn't going after the head vampire directly. While he was known to make dumb decisions from time to time, Cooper wasn't as stupid as all that. But as long as they had their seat on the Night Council, he was content with the status quo. When they lost that and therefore their immunity to hunters, Cooper got more than just worried. He got a little scared. If the other factions thought they had lost their edge, they might come after them. So he decided it was time act first and show the other factions that there was still some teeth left to Islington.

He'd taken part in his own fair share of territory claims and come to know what worked and what didn't. To take over Greenwich, he decided that it was best to hit them hard and fast. If they could get an edge over the wolves before they really had a chance to react, they could take over with minimal fuss. So that was the plan: get in, strike hard, and take over. It all seemed rather simple to the vampire. And here people thought his aggressive tendencies were a bad thing.

So on the 10th, the vampires were going be hitting Greenwich with everything they had. If a few wolves got killed in the carnage, so be it. That was the price to pay for making sure that the message was clear: nobody messed with Islington.