Watching the Lights
Outfit | @jared

Date: 21 April 2017
Location: Labyrinth Nightclub

She told herself that this was going to be okay. Constance had tried to convince herself on multiple occasions that she could go out like this and it would be all right. Honestly, it hadn’t sounded all that tempting to her for quite some time. From the moment that she had been kidnapped, she had been a bit more on edge about being out like that. She had been taken during the day, so she knew that it was ridiculous to be this worried at night, when it was obvious that it could happen at any time. But still, the thought of going out to a nightclub had not been all that appealing to her. Constance had tried to convince herself to go on one other occasion. She had gotten dressed and everything—she had told her matka where she was going, and then she had changed her mind. She had gone back up to her room, changed into her pajamas, and she’d stayed in. Since then, she hadn’t really tried to go out. Constance had gone to work, she had gone to ballet, and piano, and everything else, but it was a rare occasion for her to leave after dark unless she really needed something. It was paranoid, and she knew that she would be fine, but it was hard for her to get past the fact that someone had tried to take her to get to her strýc, and it could happen again. It could very obviously happen again, and everyone knew it.

Constance had wanted to be fine with this, with all of it. She had wanted to move forward and past it, and so she’d pushed it off. She had gone to therapy, she talked about her other problems, but she didn’t talk about that. She had agreed to go to a psychologist to begin with, because she knew that her strýc and her matka wouldn’t take no for an answer, but they couldn’t know what she was talking about. So she talked about other things. Merlin knew that they had enough problems going on, and clearly that was enough to give her plenty to talk about. But she didn’t talk about what happened, she didn’t talk about it in detail. She didn’t think that she could, and so she pushed it off, and she told herself she was okay, and she thought that she might eventually start to believe herself. That eventually, it would get easier, and she would be able to say that she was okay and not be lying. But that had ended up with her having a panic attack on the floor in the bathroom, and her matka finding her. It was obvious that she wasn’t doing as well as she had been trying to pretend she had been, and now it wasn’t exactly a secret either.

Not being able to stop herself from panicking in a completely… innocent situation meant that she had something to prove to herself. She needed to be okay, and she thought that tonight would be the perfect night for her to go out to a club, at least for a little while. Constance just wanted to give it a try. She wanted to see if she could do this, and then she’d go home. Playing it by ear was just about the only plan that she had. If she felt up to dancing, she’d dance, if she didn’t, maybe she’d just sit at the bar for a little while. It was a Friday, so she knew it would be busy by the time she made it to the door—though the line was a pretty big indicator as well. She hadn’t been sure just what she wanted to do first, but she had found herself heading to the dance floor even though a part of her knew that was sort of jumping into the deep end. Sometimes she was just a headfirst kind of girl, and tonight she felt like it was the right decision. A few songs and a couple glitter explosions later, she was heading toward the bar a lot more sparkly than she had been before.

The clientele his club produced never fazed or surprised him, though if a teenager or younger got past his security then staff went missing and said... child... was escorted quickly and firmly from the premises. The Labyrinth was arguably "his pride and joy" if such a thing were, well, a thing for him. It almost rivaled his mansion in the country side of muggle England with its modified architecture and as such was wont to spend much of his time there. London as a whole was not his favourite place to be at any given time but this place lessened that. Softened it. Made it seem for more salvageable that it actually was behind black tinted windows. Naturally if he was out and about it the Magical part he was his usual self, big hair and big personality, but in the rural parts where only the muggle's habited his look changed. His hair was modified, his makeup removed... his clothes subdued... all by his magical stylist. And for larks sometimes he even indulged in a cigar or two as it could do him no harm these days. It wasn't like he could breathe any of it in and choke.

Having just come back from the aforementioned place, Jared stepped into his private chambers and snapped his fingers sharply for said stylist to remove their glamours from his person. He watched his blonde tresses grow with critical mismatched eyes then turned on his heel into his dressing room to get dressed properly. Merlin knew he needed to slip back into his protective skin and go out into the throngs in the vast rooms below him to forget again. Lose the burning sanctity of the Church behind him amongst the dancing bodies of strangers. He snapped his gloves off harshly, bearing to glance at his bare hands for half a moment before wrenching his eyes away and covering them again with his trusted black leather. It took an hour but finally he was redressed and presentable once more and ready to mingle with his patrons. Perhaps he would find another hidden gem amongst the rubble like Raellyn, or perhaps he would meet one who would never grace his establishment ever again. Who knew. It was not knowing that kept him doing this same routine nearly each and every day or week without growing too tired of what met him when he stepped into either the Magical or Muggle dance halls. And when it came to be too trying... he had his VIP lounge where very few actually managed to attain access.

Coming down one of the more perilous looking staircases- how he loved the architecture playing tricks on the naked eye and mind- he signaled to his confetti staff member to send out another wave of showers for his arrival. At least that's what he thought the staff member was meant to be doing. What else would have them standing beside the canons looking bored? It served to announce his arrival without saying his name. No words were ever spoken. And yet again fewer people still knew what the blasts of gold, sapphire and ice white actually signified as he didn't have a set time for them like the others. He had them set off when he felt like it. In fact, if he was particularly annoyed he'd tweak the angle of the canons and set them off himself so his workers had the logo of the club or something worse stuck in their hair for slacking or irritating him. Yes he was fond of this place, and usually fond of the people who frequented it. He was however parched. His kind of... drink... wasn't exactly widely available out and around the community and none of the mobile walking distributors had taken his fancy. His nose wrinkled slightly as he wove through the crowd like a ribbon towards the bar, fending off the smell of raving pheromones as well as the physical bodily odours that assaulted his nasal cavity until he finally arrived at one of his bars and stepped up near a young dark haired witch... who was notably apprehensive. He dismissed it being from his presence. Some people were naturally skittish. Making eye contact with his bartender, he raised his brows and tipped up his chin. "Glass of red. Fresh, room temperature. This mornings stock, if you would."

It was an improvement, being here. There had been months where she hadn’t thought that she would ever be able to do something like this ever again. Granted, she hadn’t ever been what anyone would call a clubber, by any stretch of the imagination. But sometimes, if she was in the mood to dance, it was just the best place to go. As much as she could usually do without strange blokes rubbing up against her, sometimes it was okay. Sometimes going to a club could even be fun, it had just been a while since she’d really been able to go. Constance knew that, in some ways, that might not make sense to a lot of people. Yes, she had been kidnapped. For several days she had been absolutely certain that she was going to die, but she hadn’t been kidnapped in a club. She hadn’t even been taken at night. She had been on the street, and it had been right after work. It had been daylight. So her trepidation when it came to clubs and being in large crowds might not make sense to many people. Frankly, it didn’t really make sense to her either. It wasn’t anything like the circumstances in which she’d been taken, but her problem with it was her inability to know who was there, and who was looking at her. Maybe nobody was, maybe someone was but it was completely innocent… or maybe someone was watching her because they wanted to get back at her uncle the way the last one had.

Only maybe that one would be successful where the other one had failed. That was the type of thing that she worried about. She worried that someone was watching, and it made a club like this one a bad place to go. It was dark, it was crowded, and the flashing lights and glitter really made it impossible to keep an eye on what was going on. But tonight, it had been worth the risk. She had told her matka that she was going out, and she had gone. She had no plans of being out too late, not when she knew the woman would worry. Really, she thought it was surprising that she had been allowed to go alone at all, but she hadn’t wanted a babysitter. She had just wanted one night, to see if she could do it. And thus far, it had been fun. She had gotten to dance, she had unintentionally gotten covered in glitter, and now she thought that it was past time that she got a drink. Honestly, even a water would sound good just about now after all the dancing that she’d been doing, but she knew that wasn’t exactly how clubs worked. So she’d made her way up to the crowded bar, to wait for someone to catch her eye and head her way.

She wasn’t there for too long before someone else approached the bar. She took a glance in their direction. They were… sort of unlike anyone that she’d seen before. Constance couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen hair like that in this decade, but she wasn’t about to comment on it. Even at a club, she had been raised to be polite and so she was hardly going to judge someone’s hair out loud. Especially when they seemed to be important enough, because a bartender came up to him next to immediately. He ordered a wine, which she thought was an… interesting choice for a club, and she thought that she would try to get the bartender’s attention once he got back from pouring it. She kept her eye on him as he went to go and get a glass and pour a wine, and it wasn’t too long before he was back in front of the man who had ordered it. It was then that she finally met the bartender’s eyes and he came over to her. “Gin martini, please.” She said, leaning over the bar and raising her voice enough to be heard over the music.

It was laughable that a man as damned as he was still persevered to broach hallowed ground in the memory of his two fallen ones. Even when he'd been alive, magic flowing through his veins, he had been a religious man who believed he had been blessed for a higher purpose. He had always known he would pay for a gift so generous. But he was still paying for those 35 years over a century later when he had lost nearly everything he was and had had to start again to protect his sister. Viriette had been the driving force that had kept him going these years since his second demise had taken both of them and stopped their hearts in their chests. Without her he'd have given into the hell he carried with him and would have perished long ago whichever route had been most efficient. But his sister was nothing if not the more level headed of the pair of them and letting him dwell on these things was never something she let him do for long. Sometimes she created problems to force him to concentrate and fix them and others she threatened him to his core and it was a case of wising up or killing her. Somehow he always chose the former

At least she still didn't push him to find a companion. He did to her; his favourite threat was finding someone to marry her off to that could more than handle her and leaving her to enjoy a married life without his help. It was amusing to imagine her shackled to another. But he wouldn't lie that he was getting tired of his own lonesome existence. It had taken over a century,
the pain of the loss he had suffered from his last attempt at love still burning within him like it had happened mere days before, but he imagined he was almost ready to venture out for a second try. It would take change to achieve. Himself as well as his attitude to modern life. Achieving it however was a goal that was reoccurring in his mind every night he lay alone reading on his bed or trying to recall what sleep was like with a glass of wine or blood in hand. The soft light of a lamp his only company. The fireplaces were never lit. Fire had no place in his current existence save for mortals and it wasn't like he had many of them occupying his mansion save for the help. If they were busy they weren't cold, and as thus the fireplaces stayed dormant and unused.

The bottle of the morning's 'catch' was opened before him, decanted on the sly and handed to him quickly by a hand clearly uncomfortable with what it was holding before the bartender turned his attention to the very young looking witch beside him. If she wasn't a teenager, the change had happened recently for she still bore the appearance of a young girl. He locked eyes on the bartender in a clear indication that he should go check on that piece of information before he was held accountable if Jared was correct in thinking she was younger than she appeared, then he turned to the witch in question and leaned against his bar. Then he walked around the other side of it so they were separated by the counter and leaned on it from that angle instead. From his new front facing direction he noticed the sculpt of her features and filed it away for later. Perhaps his assumptions had been slightly premature. "A gin martini, hm? Do you have a preferred brand?" He asked, deciding to mix the drink himself. If the man came back and told him she was too young, it would be all too easy to slide something extra inside the glass to get her out of there. Besides, the man had left without seeing to her order.

His own glass was set down, the dark contents barely stirring, and he hooked up a glass with a deft hand before looking back at her for an answer. "If you prefer Muggle, I recommend Gordon's. If not, Ulex would be the best if you prefer a dry gin of the... Magical variety."

Constance was glad that she’d managed to convince herself to go out at all. It was a process… it had all been a process, but she was here. She had to think that was what mattered. If she just kept going, and kept convincing herself to take these steps, eventually she would be fine. What had happened… it had been months ago now, and she had to think that it would eventually get easier. She had to think that she’d get past this eventually, because she couldn’t live like she was waiting for something bad to happen. She was well aware that who her family was, who she was… it put a target on her back, just like the rest of them. Everyone was aware of those risks, and they were all going on as normally as possible. Constance was trying to, but what had happened to her made it a little bit difficult. Knowing what was possible when someone wanted to get to her uncle… she didn’t want that to happen again, not to ay of them. She had somehow managed to survive, but she didn’t really think that she could credit herself with that. She hadn’t done anything. Her mum and Dimitri had found her—if they hadn’t, she would have died. That wasn’t something she had been able to do on her own, but she wanted to think that she would find a way to survive if it happened again. Nick had been helping with that. Since she had gotten her strength back, she’d been practicing with him with the sort of hand-to-hand combat that might actually protect her if something were to happen.

But she still knew that she was just a girl. As strong as she wanted to be, as strong as she thought she was, there was only so much that she could do. She knew that, if worse came to worse, there was a good chance she wouldn’t be able to stop it. Constance had just started to realize that it shouldn’t stop her from trying to move on with her life. She had to at least try, and so she had convinced herself to come here tonight, and she was going to have a good time. Somehow, it was easier when she had been out there dancing—she could stop thinking altogether and just focus on the music, but now that she was out of that crowd, and over at the bar, it was easier for her to focus on everyone that could be looking to do her harm. She had no idea who could be watching her or what they had in mind. That was the problem, the not knowing. They would always be targets, and that was the price of power. But she knew that it was worth it. Her dad might not be around anymore, he might not be stuck in that camp, but it was good that none of them were. And now that they had power, she knew that they had to keep it. She was well aware of the consequences if they didn’t. She knew that likely all of them would die in that situation—her uncle, and her mum, certainly… but probably all of them just to be safe.

It was why she was glad that she worked at the Ministry. She wanted to do everything she could to help, to make sure that didn’t happen. They couldn’t lose power, they had to keep it and no matter what task she was given, she’d made sure she did her part. But tonight was about going about her life as normal, about trying to keep going. It meant coming here, it meant getting past what had happened in December. Her gaze moved to the man that had been on her side of the bar, until he’d moved around to the other side to speak to her. She hadn’t realized that he worked here, but with him being on the wrong side of the bar, she’d have no reason to. Constance raised her eyebrows at his question, but didn’t answer immediately as he kept going. He gave his recommendations—Gordon’s was a little bit too low shelf for her tastes, and Ulex wasn’t bad but it wasn’t what she had in mind for tonight either. “Tanqueray's actually, if you have it. Thank you.” It was her liquor of choice when she was getting a gin martini, which was what she normally got. Her family was big on scotch, and she drank plenty of it too, but sometimes she wasn’t in the mood for a dark liquor and gin was definitely her first choice. On a night like tonight, she thought she’d need plenty of gin martinis to keep her mind occupied.

Living for as long as he had now- a pittance by those who had existed longer and too long by mortal standards- he had tried his hand at many things. Bartending, as it was now referred to, was simplistic and mundane so he had abandoned the idea of pursuing it the same week he learned it. Other less... tangible... lessons had been the main focus for him especially these last few decades before he had chosen to open a nightclub. Feeding off of not just blood, but pheromones and emotions, letting them fill his senses like the dark liquid in his glass while it inexplicably drained the one he focused upon. It didn't always satiate him, and there would always be the unending need and desire for blood, but as far as snacks went? The Labyrinth was like a watering hole where he could descend upon when needed and leave when bored. Depending on how he was feeling depended on whether he saw people for what they were- human beings with lives to live and goals to fulfill- or meals on legs. Sometimes it was a toss up of both, then 'accidents' happened and he had to step back and let Virette deal with it.

For now, he could almost taste the unease rolling off of the young girl in waves and it unsettled him a small amount considering how young in years she appeared. What horrors were plaguing her he did not know nor cared to pry into, but they were nearly leaving a sour taste in his mouth. "As it happens, I do." He stated, his baritone carrying across the music easily so he didn't have to raise his voice again. Purposefully slowing himself down so as to not draw any unwarranted questions towards the speed in which her drinks was made, he finally slid it over with a practiced hand and leaned back again as his mismatched gaze watched her carefully a moment longer. In terms of demeanor... he could liken her to his sister in terms of being closed off and rather quiet, but where he knew there was fire in Viriette he wasn't sensing that from the... witch- ah yes, he could sense it now like a crackle of electricity- merely a need to... relax? The man he had sent off to check on her approached once more, nodding his head to assure him she was of age and Jared dismissed him to take a break with a pointed tilt of his head. This curious situation was his to entertain him for the night... once she left, or he grew bored, Vector - Victor, whatever his name was- could have his job back.

"Pardon the intrigue in me that you've piqued, Gospođica, but I cannot help but notice that you are in solitary company. Am I correct in imagining you are here by yourself or your plans have been cancelled?" Jared finally asked, gaze flicking back to her after roaming the crowd of writhing bodies behind her for any trouble or a familiar face. Having a girl unaccompanied in his establishment arose a few questions of his own in terms of her business there and whether it was merely a passtime, but the shred of humanity in him almost held a flicker of concern for the environment she was in. While he did his damnedest to ensure the place was safe against the unsavoury types who spelled not just trouble but at times reports with the magical law enforcement or trips to Mungo's he couldn't guarantee nothing would happen all the same. And considering how... not entirely nervous but indeed uncomfortable... she found herself apparently while seated in front of him he couldn't help but wonder whether something hadn't already happened. No one had come near hand however to notify him of any trouble. Taking back up his own glass, he tipped it at her slightly out of manners and took a long swallow as his body grew tense. Whoever she was, she wasn't his responsibility. He just didn't like dealing with problems that humans caused for themselves through either ignorance or spite.

Constance knew that nothing was going to be simple, from that moment in October when her uncle and her matka had told them that they weren’t allowed to leave the house that day. They had to stay put, and they had known why. They had been going to the Ministry, it had been time for them to take over, and Constance had known that day that everything was going to be different. At the time, though, she’d really just been upset that they hadn’t been allowed to go. She thought that they would have been fine, if they had all stuck together, to just watch what happened at the Ministry that day, from the back of the crowd. From everything she’d heard about that day, they would have been fine. Sure, some Mudbloods had been killed, but it had all seemed to be rather systematic. It had been maybe a bit chaotic for those trying to get away, but not for them. They would have been fine, but still, they hadn’t been allowed to go. Constance had thought about sneaking out and going anyhow, but she knew that her matka would have noticed, so she hadn’t risked it. That had still been the day that everything changed, though, there was no denying that.

From that moment on, life had just gotten to be more complicated. Dominick had died, she had lost it for a little while… one night, really, but that one night had been bad enough that her uncle had been mad at her for months. Ares had married Aurora, they were going to have a baby, and she had been acting a little bit strange for months now as well. Constance figured it must have something to do with the baby, but she didn’t think that getting pregnant sounded all that fun if it made her lose her marbles too. Not that she had to worry about that either, since she wasn’t dating. She would have to worry about it someday, and she would hope that she wasn’t going to act the way that her aunt was, but until that was an active problem, it wasn’t something she was going to bother herself with. That would be… when she was married, and there was no telling when that was going to happen. Eventually, she was sure, but not yet. Ella wasn’t married yet, neither was Thea, and they were both older than she was. If they weren’t worried about it yet, then she wasn’t going to worry either. It would happen eventually.

She knew that she’d have to find someone that her family approved of, and that wasn’t going to be easy when she wanted to like them too. Constance knew that she might not get that lucky—it was a rare situation, even when they weren’t being subjected to arranged marriages, because they would still need to find someone appropriate. As much as she wanted to find someone she loved, she was a realist, not an optimist, when it came to the odds of that happening. Eventually, she’d just need to find someone, whether she liked them or not, because she would start to be too old, and she didn’t need to get to the point where no one even wanted her. That wasn’t something she could risk happening, because she wanted her family to be proud of her—and she didn’t want to embarrass them by becoming some unmarried middle-aged woman with no kids or prospects. That wouldn’t be good in the slightest. Constance knew that worrying about that now was silly though, because she was only months away from turning 21, and that wasn’t old. For tonight, she didn’t worry about that, or anything else. “Thank you.” She said finally, when he passed the drink she’d ordered over to her. He seemed curious of her, and she didn’t quite know what she was doing that was so curious, but she supposed she was alone at a nightclub, and that was probably curious enough. “No, my plans weren’t cancelled. I’m here alone.”