reticence: (modern glare)
Faolan ([personal profile] reticence) wrote in [community profile] undergrounds2015-07-25 12:10 pm

[open] I've found that just surviving was a noble fight

Faolan doesn't really have any particular agenda for the day. In between cases, no clients on the book for the afternoon, he finds himself with free time and well. He's never really much cared for the idea of such a thing. Mostly perhaps because he doesn't really know much what to do with himself when it happens. Not really having that many hobbies, not really much for staying idle, he finds himself wandering. Coffee at this shop, breakfast at another. Finding a seat to sit and enjoy both before wandering more. Idly staring in shop windows. Finding himself lunch. He supposes that this is time that people who had friends might call some of them up and get together to do something, but that would require having any, a luxury he had not been afforded. Not since moving to London, at least. Besides all of that, these last few days especially he's been feeling rather odd...

Being a man with a varying schedule, often pulling late-nights, Faolan has developed a particular affinity for coffee. Another man might call it a caffeine addiction, but that is perhaps neither here nor there, and anyway, he really only ever indulges in the coffee version of the drug. Which is why he finds himself seated in a shop early that morning, a mug of it clutched in both hands as he sits at the counter by the window and stares out the window at the passers-by. He might not have normally chosen this seat. There are occasions where he'd rather opt for a table by himself in the corner, where he can pull out his tablet and get some work done. But there's something about today where he feels compelled to watch. Feels compelled to sit there and observe, poised silent and still on the stool as he surveys the people on the street in front of him. There's a tension in the way he's holding himself, and if he didn't pause every once and a while to take a sip from the coffee, it would probably be a little painful to watch him at it. It's probably a little painful still.

He knows what he's doing, so after a while, he forces his eyes away. And that's when he spots it. A fly. It must have come in the shop with one of the other patrons. The place is nice and clean enough, he doesn't think that they're likely to have an infestation, especially since he's seen only the one. But now all of his attentions are focused on it, and try as hard as he might to just sit and enjoy his coffee, he can hear it. Buzzing around, doing its dirty fly business god knows where. He manages maybe five minutes of valiant efforts to keep his mind away, before he gives up and rolls up the paper he has sitting in front of him. That fly is dead.

Faolan sits on a bench in the park, nursing his second coffee of the day, this one in a cardboard cup. He's been trying to relax and enjoy the quite, natural atmosphere around him, something that usually works to soothe his ragged temper. Today, on the other hand, he's having no such luck. Too many sounds keep happening around him. People passing by. Walking their dogs. Going out for a jog. Taking a quiet stroll with their children. And it's distracting him. He finds himself honing in on every conversation being had, every laugh, every sound being made by the noisy life around him.

And that's nothing compared to the distraction that the nature itself is causing him. He finds himself fixating on a squirrel across the way, staring it down until the small, bushy-tailed creature gives up the contest and absconds itself into the nearest tree, where he can still hear it, scuttling around up there. And that's nothing compared to the duck that keeps leisurely swimming by, expecting him to have some sort of treat for it as apparently all visitors to this spot must have had in the past. As the web-footed creature circles closer and closer, Faolan finds himself wishing for a stone to throw at it. Or perhaps his gun. No, what is he kidding, that's crazy. He sits forward on the bench and runs his hand over his face. Maybe the whole park thing was a bad idea after all...

It's been a long day, from start to finish, and since no amount of coffee, fresh air, or sunshine has done anything to cure Faolan's odd mood, there's only one more direction that he can turn. Well, there are probably more, but since he's not looking to break any laws tonight, that means alcohol. It means getting himself a drink or three or as many as it takes until whatever it is that's wound so tight within him settles down and allows him a moment's peace.

He should have known that the sort of slow burning fury building within him had no business mixing with drink, but that's neither here nor there, and it isn't until he left to go take a piss and comes back to find the seat he was in otherwise occupied that he realizes he has a problem. Because that something within him is just as raring to go as ever. And rather than calming that, if anything the only thing the alcohol has calmed is his sense of reason, which is not good. Fists clenched tight at his sides, Faolan doesn't really make all that menacing of an image. Not at first glance. But the sound of his voice clearly means business as he manages to grind out at the newcomer, "That seat's taken."


[ooc note: this log takes place during the HUNTING SEASON event, and as such is loosely dated between the 20th and the 25th! faolan is a human and a hunter in the hillingdon clan, and if you want to get into trouble with him of a supernatural, hunting sort, by all means choose your own adventure or contact me and we can work something out. THANKS!]
rules_winter: (now you're just trying my patience)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-04 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Her eyes are drawn back to him. "I understand there are games with paint guns now?" All the satisfaction of a hunt, none of the blood and gore. And humans could be great game. "And catch and release hunting." Of which there was very little point in her opinion if her expression was anything to go by. "And though less satisfying, simply running can assist. Any of the baser needs being met can help, breaking things, having sex, bar fighting, racing." She lists them off with slow thoughtfulness. "Not all will get rid of the urge completely but many will make it bearable."
rules_winter: (considering your predicament)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-08 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
The poor man has good instincts. Most people should be concerned when Mab shows an interest so his instincts aren't leading him wrong. But Mab doesn't go around making it clear that she is dangerous. She's just always a little off. She hasn't spent enough time among humans to fit in easily, she doesn't have enough expression, her mannerisms are older. She may have finally discovered google no thanks to purchasing a horribly outdated phone so she does know about things like paintball. Mostly though, she's just a little amused to see a human so affected by the hunt that he looks a little like he'd enjoy grabbing and throttling the duck that circles warily farther out on the water now.

His insistence on more clarification than book knowledge does change her expression though. Rudeness, trying to force an answer out of her. Her lips thin in irritation. The fae do not like being cornered into answers. So she answers without giving him the answer he obviously wants. "Because I have felt many of the same urges." And that is the truth. The fae who join the hunt have a heightened bloodlust during the hunt and it seeps over even when they're not actively chasing down their quarry. It explains why she might have looked some things up. "Surely curiosity has driven you to find answers before?" And carefully redirecting questions meant she could mislead all she needed to.
rules_winter: (pleasant)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-10 07:49 pm (UTC)(link)
She waves a hand dismissively. "Good and bad, people are always so worried about these things. Actions simply are. Morality changes over time." It hadn't been so very long ago that humans found it perfectly moral to own other people. In some countries it was still thus. Mab had vassals of her own, and considered the fair trades that had put them there perfectly normal. Most of them even seemed to like it in their own way.

She considers the question for a moment. "I imagine so." She finally decided, patting her package. "Though I did plan to sit for a moment and peruse my find." She turned her face back to him again, "Did you realize that you had driven away most others. They could sense something in you." She glanced around as though to show him that this section of the park was almost empty, a few people were picnicking in the distance but most of the animals and mortals were giving him wide berth, choosing other paths, almost unintentionally sensing this part of the park might be dangerous. It had likely happened slowly enough as people had been passing much closer less than ten minutes ago, but slowly the path had grown quieter and quieter. Mab, with better senses could almost feel the desire for violence in him battered down by his own determination.

Yes curiosity had definitely brought her to him, though she would have been in the park for a while either way.
rules_winter: (foggy)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-15 06:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Technically she'd used the words 'people' and 'others'. But she certainly did have a long view of morality. His heightened senses aren't helping him in the paranoia department. But then again, it was probably how he'd survived his teens. She just raised a brow at him as he looked at her, uncomfortably.

"Mmm, yes." She pulled her bag up and took a book out of the paper packaging, fingers running over the old leather cover almost reverently. It was in German so unless he spoke the language it wouldn't tell him anything about it aside from the picture of trees embossed on the cover in faded gold leaf with the words "Das Märchen von der Schwarzwald; der Nekromant" across the title area. "This was written in 1794. It was quite a find. There was a more recent translation by an Englishman but he did a poor job and had an agenda of his own." She tilted the book so he could see it a little better. "I will have to do some preserving before I can really spend quality time with it." She shrugged. It did not mean she wouldn't spend a moment appreciating the book.
Edited 2015-08-15 18:53 (UTC)
rules_winter: (over the shoulder)

Haha, no problem I re-read it like three times to make sure

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-16 12:23 am (UTC)(link)
She can almost see his surprise when he sees a book. He hides it well though. And he just seems more wary now that he's seen it. "Ich las es besser, als ich es zu sprechen. I am rather better at reading it than speaking." Though you wouldn't know by listening.

"It is presumably fiction, though some in the mystic communities believe it was a basis for Kemmler's research during the great wars." Kemmler had been horrifyingly effective necromancer though mostly only witches and other supernatural creatures were even aware of him. "Many of the works were destroyed by the Church. I was quite pleased to find a surviving copy."

Her hand slid across the leather almost like the touch of a lover as she looked down at it. When she looked back up at him she seemed to blush though not much color entered her cheeks. "Well, I have gone on a bit haven't I? I don't imagine it holds much interest outside of my contacts at Oxford."
rules_winter: (large and in charge)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-24 03:12 am (UTC)(link)
Mab definitely covets some of her things. Especially the hard to find ones. Her head tilts a little at his question. "Mmm, no. I simply have a thirst for knowledge. Consider it a ... hobby." That's the right word isn't it? The more you know, the easier it is to get what you want.

The glamoured blush has disappeared and she pushes some of her hair back over her shoulder. Her contacts in Oxford were really one harried professor of mythology whom she'd traded a very rare book for a favor owed, and a young professor of ancient languages who thought she was a coed at the school.
rules_winter: (search)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-26 07:40 am (UTC)(link)
It certainly takes one to know one. And a predator can almost always sense one of it's own kind. The affinity to the hunt is just the nail in the coffin of discovery. She looks back at him considering. Do for a living. Well she was independently wealthy, anything that lived for any decent amount of time could accrue wealth. And she did not have a job aside from being the Lady of Air and Darkness.

"I am blessed with not having to work to survive." She finally responded. "But I dabble in politics among other things." Which was horrifically true. Politics in the fae realm could be rather cutthroat. And she could do anything from healing to destruction. "And you?"
rules_winter: (hair up in white)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-28 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
Well, someone was feeling jealousy. Mab smiled a little at that and moved to touch his arm for a moment in a soothing gesture. She had given him more than he'd given her, the touchy man. "I think, perhaps, my child might have fared better had she needed to make ends meet." Her expression went a little... not quite sad but remote after giving him that much. It was more than she really ought to have given him but he was interesting and she didn't want him stomping away just yet. She might regret it, but then if he made her regret it, so would he.

"I have offended you, but the answer was truthful." She looked at him almost as though trying to determine if he'd have preferred a lie. Not that she could give one but she could have avoided mentioning that she didn't have to struggle for money. To survive in the fae realm though? That might be a different story.
rules_winter: (cloak)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-29 08:22 pm (UTC)(link)
She did look young to have a child. But she could be anywhere in her late twenties through her thirties, her age was hard to pinpoint. She let her hand fall from his arm as he lifted his hand to wave and her head dipped acknowledging his apology.

"No offense taken." He'd know if he offended her. But he couldn't know that yet. She turned her head to look at him. She certainly did know what it was that had him so on edge. But the reaction to her money had also been... useful. It is probably good he hasn't yet told her what he does or she would have offered to hire him. That would have come across as more pity than she'd really intend but she wasn't yet used to deal with people after her long separation from humanity.

"Is your situation dire?" She asked not that he'd tell her in his current state but he was definitely on edge about money.
rules_winter: (aren't you interesting)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-30 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
It sounded rather normal when he put it that way. Her witch in Chicago was much the same. Often taking jobs he wouldn't like to just to make ends meet. But he managed somehow. "I see." She settled her hands in her lap and nodded as though it made sense. Though she was still trying to decide if he was jealous of her money, embarrassed at his lack, or angry that it was being discussed at all. Perhaps it was a combination.

It was, though, likely adding to his drive to violence aided by the hunt now that they'd found themselves on the subject. "It is reassuring to hear that it isn't dire." She decided that was the safest response at the moment.
rules_winter: (flirty)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-31 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
She just smiles a little as he assures her he has it under control. There is no way to bring that to a close without upsetting him more. She suspects it might be close to dire though since he's reacting so strongly to it.

Her gaze lifts as he stands. "I do believe I will enjoy the book thoroughly." She agreed. "I hope that you find an outlet for your tension." She dips her head a little like a cursory bow of dismissal.