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

[reticence]

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...

A. COFFEE
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.

B. PARK
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...

C. BAR
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."

D. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

[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!]

Comments

orz

[reticence]

It's interesting, to hear her go on like this. Even if it's true, he doesn't quite have the same appreciation for books that she does. (He certainly doesn't go about stroking their bindings with a touch like that, at any rate.)

"Contacts at Oxford," Faolan repeats, raising his eyebrows slightly. It certainly sounds impressive, at any rate. Maybe he'll be able to hold a decent conversation with such a person when he's not feeling like crawling out of his skin. Maybe not. He's always been pretty naturally suspicious, and she seems to enjoy her teasing. "You're...in academics?"

If Faolan were more socially conscious he might realize that he hasn't even asked her name yet. Or offered his own. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily as the case may be, he's not at all.

[reticence]

"I'm a PI," Faolan says, glancing sideways at the kid, hoping it explains something about this conversation here. "But my specialty is the supernatural. So I guess in a manner of speaking, I do." He's not going to comment on the living out of boxes and eating cup ramen part, though. He's hardly got enough in the way of possessions to live out of boxes so much as a couple duffle bags and a backpack. And considering the fact that he lives on takeout where and when he can get it, it's hardly better than the idea of cup ramen. But sure, if Heiji thinks it's great, he's not about to try and convince him otherwise.

"It is what it is, I guess," Faolan says, thinking of his little flat, with its 'scenic balcony' and its white walls. "At least I've got one." Which is more than he could have said for some portions of his life.

[reticence]

Faolan laughs slightly, shaking his head. "It's not exactly a secret. Though I'd request a mutual exchange, if I can. I'm not much of a talker." Well. He's fallen out of the habit of it in recent years at least. The conversation here and now is pretty much proof that he can hold a decent conversation with whoever he likes, though. So really he's just selling himself short.

"No slander," he promises. "You can be as much of a gentleman as you like. And I'll do my best in return. Fair's fair, yeah?" He actually rather does like the sound of a night out with the other man. Even if he's not certain where Lancelot is going with this, he could use the socialization.

[knightscode]

"That sounds fair to me," he says, and Lancelot begins patting himself down -- reaches for an inside pocket and tugs a pen out and the receipt from his coffee. He flips it over and clicks out the pen, scribbles down what is quickly obvious as a mobile phone number. "You can let me know when suits you," he says, and scribbles an email address under -- work address, obvious, if the @met.police.uk string is anything to go by. "No pressure. It's your bribe, after all, it should be done at your leisure."

[detectiveofthewest]

It would probably be for the best if Faolan never saw Heiji's apartment. Or rather, the apartment that Heiji had convinced someone to let him live in. Satisfied, however, that Faolan was not living his life in a sad hole-in-the-wall with only a bird and a tomato plant for company, he nodded.

"Well, anyway, I guess I oughtta get going. Be careful out there, though! You ain't look like you have antlers, so I figure you'll be fine."

[rules_winter]

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.

[reticence]

Faolan takes the receipt from the other man, glancing over the number and the email address for a moment, before reaching to tuck it in his coat pocket. Maybe some people would start to program these things into their phones right away so they don't lose them, but Faolan's old-fashioned. (And his mobile isn't really all that good, considering.) And then, rather than leaving it at there, he reaches further into the breast pocket of his coat and pulls out a card, before sliding it across the table to the other man. Written on it is his name, first and last, in simple black lettering on the white background, a phone number (his mobile, considering it's easier to work that way), and an email address. No address or professional designation, but it's obviously a professional business card.

"Here," he says. "So you know who's contacting you, when I do. Or in case you should feel inspired. To enact any more bribes." He smirks, slightly.

[knightscode]

"Ahh," Lancelot says lightly, drawing the card toward himself. "I wouldn't push your luck on those bribes. You've seen my fly-snatching skills. Ask for too many and I might be testing my reflexes on you, with my terrible dog for back up."

He glances down and jerks an eyebrow at Lily, tucking away the pen and card in his jacket pocket as she gazes balefully up at him. Why is he not sharing food? This is torture. He is such a cruel man, her owner, eating and drinking things and giving none for her. Her tail swishes questioningly. He is looking at her now, does that mean soon she can have some?

[reticence]

Faolan raises an eyebrow at the other. Like he has antlers? "Not since last I checked, at any rate," Faolan says, a bit dryly. He has no intention of leaving any time soon himself. Where would he go? What would he do? At least here in the park, the scenery is comforting to him. If he were elsewhere, who knows what sort of trouble he might be getting himself into. No, he thinks to himself, the sooner that this shit is over, the better.

"Guess I'll see you around then," he says. Heiji seems to have developed a talent for stumbling upon him no matter where he was or what he was doing, after all.

[reticence]

Something tells Faolan that knowledge isn't the only thing that the woman has a thirst for, though he's not about to come right out and say as much to her. She has let on that she's affected by the Hunt as well, after all, and she's let on enough for him to get a definite impression of Other about her. He knows enough not to push her from there. At least, he hopes that he does.

"If knowledge is a hobby, then what do you do for a living?" Faolan asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "To be able to acquire such rare finds as you say that is." He's certainly not splurging any spare cash on rare books himself, in his job as a Private Investigator. Not that that's what he'd be spending it on in the first place, but that's neither here nor there.

[rules_winter]

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?"

[reticence]

Faolan glances down at her himself, into those big, sad brown eyes, and then glances back up at the other man, quirking something of a smirk at him. "I think I'll take my chances," he says. "Against you and your dog. It's like I said before. I'm tougher than I look."

If Faolan were the type to wink, he might have done so at that moment. Perhaps luckily for the pair of them, he isn't, and so he lets the opportunity pass them by. "And I know your dog is a great deal less ferocious than you make her out to be. She looks far more liable to chew your ankles off for not sharing than in defense against me. What would she think of you, spinning lies about her." He clicks his tongue softly, shaking his head and taking another casual sip of his coffee as he does.

[knightscode]

"Lies, he says? Well, and after you promised no slander too!"

He widens his eyes a little in mock surprise, looks down at Lily and shakes his head.

"We can't stand for that, I don't think. I'll have to be taking my leave. I cannot stay in a place where I am subjected to slander! After freeing you from a criminal insect, too."

Lancelot sips the last of his coffee, shakes his head in mock dismay as he pushes to his feet and frees Lily's leash from about his chair. He dodges as she begins to dance about, slides his chair back in and gives Faolan a playful smile.

"I actually have somewhere to be, someone needs some new things and was promised a playdate in the park."

Someone dances a little more excitedly at the word 'park' and Lancelot shushes her gently, flicks his eyes back to Faolan and jerks an eyebrow.

"Let me know when you want to cash in that drink."

[reticence]

Faolan frowns at her, although whether it's because he hasn't gotten a straight answer or because she has basically admitted to something which he can only dream of -- being blessed with enough money to never have to worry about anything -- he cannot say for certain. (Though the truth is it is perhaps a little bit of both.)

"This and that," Faolan says, shifting slightly on the bench. "Some of us have to do a lot more than 'dabble' to make ends meet." Bitter? Who, him? Not at all. He's only lived on the streets a handful of times, that's all. Is it a cryptic answer? Hell yes. But glass houses, and all that.

[rules_winter]

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.

[reticence]

Faolan raises his eyebrows at the other man's antics. Lancelot certainly has an interesting sense of humor, but Faolan doesn't particularly mind it. In fact, he rather enjoys it, in a quirky sort of way. It's kept his attention elsewhere preoccupied, certainly, and after having spent most of the last few days on a knife's edge that's more than welcome.

He pats the lapel of his jacket, inside of which sits Lancelot's contact information, safely tucked away on that receipt that he'd written it down on. "I'll try not to contact you too soon," he says, quirking a wry smile at the other man, as he sits back in his chair. Unlike Lancelot, he really doesn't have anywhere to be. He'll probably just get another coffee and then wander off to find somewhere else to sit for a while. "Wouldn't want you to think I'm over-eager..."

[reticence]

Child? Faolan frowns slightly at that. But he understands that whatever she's given him, though he doesn't fully understand the weight of it, it's a lot to be telling a stranger on a park bench. He shakes his head slightly, taking a deep breath in and letting it out his nose.

"Forgive me," he says. "It's not your fault, nor you yourself that makes me angry. It's..." He waves his hand in front of him vaguely. "Whatever this is. It makes it difficult to control my emotions. Especially anger. And the subject of money is..." He shrugs slightly. "Some of us are not so lucky, is all. I'm sorry, though. If I have offended you." And for your daughter, he wants to say, but he's not certain of the story there, and he's not certain he has any right to ask, considering they have not even exchanged names yet.

[rules_winter]

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.

[reticence]

Faolan frowns at her phrasing. "I don't know if you'd call it dire," he explains, tightly. "It is what it is, and I've learned to make do with it. Some months are tighter than others." These last few have been tighter than most, but it gets to be like that in the summer, he supposes. When people would rather spend their extra money on going somewhere tropical than on ridding themselves of unwanted problems, as it were.

"It's nothing that I haven't made it through before," he says, and if he sounds a little defensive, it's because he is, slightly. Just the nature of the game. Money is tight, and the subject of it will always be a little bit touchy. He doesn't want to be anyone's charity case, though, so perhaps it's for the best that she isn't hiring him just yet, and coming across as such.

[rules_winter]

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.

[reticence]

It's honestly perhaps a combination thereof. How can one be embarrassed by one's lack of something and not be jealous of another with an apparent abundance of it? But that is neither here nor there. It's not her fault, after all. Not that he's in the situation he is, at any rate. He certainly shouldn't be taking his problems out on her.

Although it's certainly embarrassing to hear it phrased like that, for sure. He bristles slightly, glancing sideways at her and straightening in his seat on the bench. "I've got it under control," he says, which may or may not be a lie, but that's neither here nor there, all things considered. He raises his coffee stiffly, taking a sip from it and frowning as he realizes it's cooled a little too much for his tastes. "Well. You've. Probably got better things to be doing than entertaining the likes of me." He moves to stand, glancing down at her as he does. "Enjoy the book, yeah? If. It's the sort of thing to be enjoying, that is."

[rules_winter]

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.

[reticence]

It is rather close to dire. He's taking on jobs he'd normally turn down, otherwise. Jobs that don't pay nearly as well as they should to try and make ends meet. The thought had even crossed his mind that maybe he should take up a day job, like. Waiting tables, before he quickly talked himself out of that one. But she doesn't need to know about that.

His eyebrows raise slightly at her final words there, but he gets the feeling that however oddly phrased it is, she means it, in her own way. At least, he hopes that she does. He's just going to keep on believing it anyway. "Yeah, thanks." He raises his coffee to her in something of a salute. "I've got a seat at a bar with my name on it this evening, I think. If drinking doesn't help, maybe ending up in a pub brawl will."

"See you around then," he says, not quite meaning it but feeling in some odd way as though he might be running into her again anyway. The world works in mysterious ways, after all...