all the broken chords and unnamed cries

[orionis]

Who: Bellatrix Black, Ilde Decima, Anna Demirovna, Evan Rosier, and OPEN.
What: Drinks, tea, possibly more?
Where: Lost Society, Malfoy Townhouse, other locations negotiable.
When: Various.
Notes: I have some specific threads here, but they're by no means limiting. If you have something in mind, please feel free to tag in as your little heart desires, or contact me if you have details you'd like to work out.
Warnings: Most likely language. And bad decisions.

Things have progressed rather smoothly since Bellatrix's arrival, which perhaps surprises her the most. She didn't hug her sister when she arrived to retrieve her from the room she appeared in after grabbing the portkey in Knockturn Alley. She instead nodded, and thanked her. And after being taken to her Narcissa's home and shown to her room, crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over her head to make it dark, so she could fool her mind into believing it could be her own bed.

Comments

[indiscreet]

Lost Society pleases Anna too. Of all the places in Baedal, it feels the closest to home (home being Chicago circa 1931, before the True Fae came and everything went to hell), and it was with a combination of relief and delight that she'd discovered it in Flyside. Of course, it was in so many ways a kind of idealization of the world she'd left, but, honestly, she preferred looking back on things that way. And it was nice to wear a sleek beaded cocktail dress and put her hair in a chignon and feel perfectly at ease.

When Bellatrix arrives she's already waiting in the lounge, cradling a simple gin cocktail that she has no intention of tasting and debating whether or not she can afford to expend the blood it would take to look something besides deathly pale. (Given Baedal's politics, the answer was probably "no."

[orionis]

It takes a minute of studying faces and forms before Bellatrix decides that she has actually spotted Anna Demirovna. She approaches somewhat languidly and without any trace of anxiety in her expression, thanks to much practise at perfecting first impressions. Though this is technically a second impression.

"Anna, right? It's nice to meet you face to face." It feels a touch cliché, but it's fitting enough that Bellatrix refuses to be embarrassed by the greeting.

[rhinemaid]

"I didn't know you were coming, Anna--" but Ilde sounds pleased, only a few steps behind Bellatrix, evidently knowing her way comfortably around the establishment. She slides her CiD back into her clutch as she joins them, one foot pressed to the back of her other leg for just a moment as she pauses, smiling.

It's easy to be fine when artifice is expected.

[indiscreet]

"Ilde! What a lovely surprise it is to find you here; it seems we've surprised each other." Her smile is easy and genuine. "And Bellatrix - I'm so glad you found the place without any problems."

For a first (in-person) impression, Bellatrix's efforts have the right effect: Anna always appreciates small talk for the nod to social niceties that it is. And Bellatrix's confidence marks her as a worthwhile sort of person.

In person, for all her exterior charm, there's something subtly unsettling about Anna Demirovna to a human eye. It's not quite anything specific (maybe in her gestures? or a certain look in her eyes?); more like an instinctive sense of something predatory about her.

"Please, sit down, both of you." She gestures with a pale hand.

[orionis]

There's an inward sense of disappointment when Anna and Ilde exchange greetings. There was a part of her that had been hoping she'd be introducing each of them to someone new, so she could feel a bit more on even footing. But, truly, it's no matter. This may be better anyway. "I apologise, I should have said. The more the merrier though, yes?"

Her seat is taken with an easy smile. She should be unnerved in some way, but where others have the instinct to flee, or at least be wary, Bellatrix interprets it as something magical, equating it with power. She's a bit off herself in that way. "I'm so pleased you both could make it. I appreciate your company this evening." She appreciates being out of her sister's home most of all. She feels as though she can breathe easier now.

[rhinemaid]

In person, it's clearer that there's something about Ilde a step apart from human norms; that which is meant to unsettle humans registers entirely differently to someone who isn't at all, and at this point mostly just...doesn't, accustomed as she is to Anna's company. Sliding down into a seat, she crosses her legs (the gap between the lace edge of her stockings and the feathered hem of her dress gets wider as it rides up, and her ribbon tattoo is more visible, partially, before she rearranges) and tucks her clutch in beside her, an elbow on the arm of her chair. “I like to be welcoming-- well, not always. I think men here can fend for themselves.”

[indiscreet]

They assuredly made a lovely dark-haired collection, the three of them; Anna is herself too perpetually image-conscious (or, in her opinion, exactly as image-conscious as she should be) to not be aware of the fact, and she's more than a little privately pleased at the notion.

"I'm not certain I'd give the men that much credit, but it's certainly much more fun to watch them flounder regardless." She pauses to smirk at her own humor. "So, Miss Black -- I believe I was promised the opportunity to learn all sorts of interesting things about you."

[orionis]

"Men are infinitely more entertaining when they're flopping about like fish out of water." To continue the aquatic metaphor.

They do match rather nicely, the three of them. It's a bit like when she and her younger sister go out together. "Is that what I promised?" Bellatrix asks with faux surprise. "I suppose I had best deliver." She puts on a winning smile then, sitting up straighter in her seat and regarding Anna and Ilde in turn. "Very well. Ask your first question."

[rhinemaid]

Ilde tips her hand, briefly - less that she thinks men are competent than she doesn't care, for the most part, if they can't fend for themselves it's their problem and not hers - and offers, for a question, “Where did you come from?” A moment later, amending it, “What sort of place?”

[indiscreet]

And then Ilde makes the sort of remark that reminds her why it is — apart from that whole strange fae thing that she's never quite sure how she feels about sharing — that she so enjoys her company.

It's as good a starting question as any, too. "Yes, what sort of place — and, since it seems to matter here, what sort of time?"

[orionis]

Bellatrix finds herself a little at a loss as to how to answer the question, having never had to explain her world before. It doesn't show on her face, however, save for a thoughtful expression.

"I come from England, and the year is 1970," is the short and simple answer. "Where I come from, we're meant to keep quiet about such things, though I've never agreed with the reasoning - I am a witch." A smile curls the corners of her mouth upward. "I trust that magic is nothing new to you having lived here." But then she leans in, suddenly sly. "I suspect you were no strangers to it even before then."

Which is a bit like asking what sort of place they come from.

[rhinemaid]

It could be a trick of the light, the way Ilde seems to gleam for a moment, reflecting the room's warm lighting back against her skin. It could be, but it isn't; she smiles.

“I don't believe in secrecy, either,” she says, curling her fingers around something unseen; one of the blood vials Katherine had given her, attached to a chain and hidden by illusions. She'd promised to carry one always, but it just doesn't always go with her outfit. (It is an oddly comforting presence.) “I know some of your kind-- I can taste it.” Different kinds of magic, identifiable; Ilde doesn't need to be told what Bellatrix is or even what brand of magic she practises, she's encountered enough of them to know the way they feel by instinct now. Severus (the younger) is the exception, with his magic altered from the norm, something else again.

“Fae,” she says, by way of explanation, which accounts for the curious nature of her appearance.

[indiscreet]

Oh, they're revealing themselves, now? Well, that's...interesting, and also happens to go against everything she's ever been taught since her Embrace. And Baedal politics have only gone to show the wisdom of the Masquerade: really, it's sometimes like the worst of both worlds here -- no protection of secrecy, no acceptance.

But Bellatrix had called herself a witch, hadn't she; had said that she had her own brand of secrecy to contend with. Were witches anything like mages, then? It didn't make her an automatic ally, precisely, but...it was something. It was also something that Ilde seemed comfortable sharing her nature (and that was a neat trick, tasting magic) -- not that she necessarily trusted Ilde's judgment inherently, but she didn't like the feeling of being the odd one out. More to the point, it wasn't likely to be particularly believable.

To her, the pause feels far too long as she considers. She could slip her glamour, but lightning is too eye-catching in this dark room, and besides, she's not sure she's willing to begin explaining that (and even now, she's alternately viciously proud and painfully ashamed). Instead, she leans in and flicks her eyes up to meet Bellatrix's gaze, the smell of rain and ozone lingering about her. (It has always been the hardest part to hide.)

"Secrecy is valuable," she says, tone guarded. Then, she allows herself a thin smile, and lets her fangs extend, subtle but unmistakable when she next speaks. "But so is knowledge." She raises the clear cocktail, swirls it. "This is just for show; I'd never keep it down for even a moment if I tried a sip... Vampire is the popular term," she offers.

[orionis]

Well, well, well. The other women's particular flavours of magical are actually a little unexpected, which truly only elates Bellatrix, and it shows in a glimmer in her eyes and a quirk in the corner of her mouth. "I don't believe I've ever seen a vampire quite as beautiful as you," she's quick to compliment. "Or one that so easily blends in." And that's kudos.

For Ilde, she leans a little bit closer, gaze slightly narrowed, darkly challenging in a way. "And what does my magic taste like? It's delectable, I hope."