acrookedchild: (He bought a crooked cat)
Abigail Widdowson ([personal profile] acrookedchild) wrote in [community profile] undergrounds2015-06-01 08:03 pm

Fires at Midnight

June 1st, night:

Abigail had never seen the Reds and Night Council in action before. She'd stayed tucked away in Geap Manor, learning about the Night Council and Institute and all those things she'd face in the real world, but she'd only heard of them. They existed only as an abstract concept. Being in Barnet was an entirely different situation.

On the surface, it seemed peaceful. Emissaries came from the Institute to the factions -- the vampies and the covens being the central focus, but there were others who looked for people who were different. The meta-humans. From what she could tell, they were simply being convinced to join the Institute.

But there were darker things at work, too.

Her attention was primarily on the covens. Most of them seemed to welcome the influence of Redbright, as it meant they were closer to the heart of Circle Daybreak. For a light witch, that was everything. But she saw what some of the others tried to hide because she was looking for it. One skittish girl had particularly caught her attention, so Abigail followed her, meaning to pull her aside when it was safe.

Someone else had been waiting to get her alone, too, though.

From where she'd stood, Abigail watched as the man -- a large one, all brawn but very quiet too -- grabbed the girl. None of her magic could protect either her or the victim, so Abigail had ducked down, hiding behind the large bin. She'd tried not to even breathe as she listened. The girl screamed, and the man threatened her. If she didn't give him the names of her fellow dark witches, he'd kill her.

Over and over, she'd said there weren't any others. She didn't know who they were. She didn't know where they were. He hadn't been satisfied. So, he stabbed her twice. As the girl slumped down against the brick wall, the man took her purse and ran. Anyone who found her would see a mugging gone bad.

She waited for some time, trying to make herself stop shaking, before she pulled herself to her feet and staggered away from the bin and scene, almost completely without thinking that the noise and smell of blood might easily have drawn others who weren't part of the engagement.


June 3rd, day:

Abigail kept to herself on the second. She'd always been taught to mind the phases of the moon, so she'd stayed in Geap Manor all that night, safely tucked away from anything that might want to hurt her. After that, though, she went back to Barnet.

The girl's face hadn't ever left her. She could still hear her screaming.

But it told Abigail what she had to do. There was still the official order that every dark witch who wouldn't renounce the magic she practiced had to leave Barnet. Those were the ones Abigail was trying to help now.

The cards she distributed (passed off to people she could recognize as witches who didn't seem to be violently opposed to dark witches) were simple:

Need to leave Barnet? Have nowhere to go?

Help is available.

020 7946 0660

Call or text. Any time day or night.


Dangerous? Possibly. But that was why she had a cheap burner phone for the calls and texts.

She had no solid plan as she went around the borough that day, handing a card or two where it seemed appropriate and leaving them tucked inside the right books in the right stores, places she knew they'd be found by the people who needed them.

June 6th, night:

The job was nearly done, and Abigail knew it. She had done almost everything she could, and she felt she'd helped at least some people. Others were dead, yes, and there were a few fools who thought they could continue to pass as Daybreak under the close scrutiny of the Redbright Institute and their people. Them, Abigail couldn't help, and she was afraid of them. After all, they knew her name, knew about her activity here. But she couldn't let fear stop her.

Still, she waited in a pub she'd been using as a waypoint. She'd made it clear she was leaving Barnet and not coming back at 22:00, period. Any last minute stragglers were welcome to come up until that point, which meant she still had an hour to wait. Just in case.
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: yell)

June 1st

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-06-02 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
If Heiji were in his other form, his ears would have pricked when he heard the scream. As it was, he ran toward the source of the sound, still dressed in his waiter's uniform. When he spotted Abigail, he called out to her.

"Hey, what's goin' on? Was that you?"
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: what're ya doin?)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-06-02 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
Well... it wasn't very likely that a Red would be gallivanting about looking so conspicuous. But it was possible. Heiji frowned momentarily at Abigail.

"It was definitely a woman... look, if someone's out there, they might need help. You're a witch, ain't ya? You know any healing magic?"
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: !)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-06-02 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
"What? What happened?" Well. There was magic that could fix dead, but Heiji certainly wasn't any part of it. But if they had a witness here...
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: coast is clear)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-06-02 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
He didn't figure she'd lie about a murder, so he accepted this answer without reservation. "All right. You got somewhere safe nearby you can go? No, actually -- you got a cell phone? I left mine at the cafe."
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: deduction)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-06-02 04:29 am (UTC)(link)
"Thanks." Heiji took the phone and made a quick, practiced police report, then handed the phone back to its owner.

"The police might wanna talk to you about what you saw or heard." He hesitated a moment. "I ain't think that mugger's still around, but... I gotta go examine the body."

This was a bit of a quandary, though. He couldn't just leave a dead woman lying around, but Abigail didn't look too hot herself. And while it was reasonable to assume a mugger wouldn't return to the scene of the crime, tonight wasn't really a night to take chances. "You feel up to going back to where it happened?"

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emotioneater: (Profile)

June 6th

[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-06-03 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
Cooper entered the pub with a pair of motorcycle goggles forgotten about nestled in his hair. He was just wandering through the crowd when he picked up a scent that he remembered from the ball. Weaving his way through the people, he went over to where he saw Abigail was sitting. "You must be waiting for someone." He could be wrong, but she was by herself and facing the door, like she expected there was going to be a person walking through any moment.
emotioneater: (Default)

[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-06-03 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
"C'est la vie," he replied sagely as he sat down next to her. That's life. She's at the point where she should be making stupid mistakes. His warm blue eyes took her in. If she wanted to tell him what she was doing, she'd spill eventually. But he wouldn't push her to do so just yet. "I used t'be the king of being young and stupid. Glad to know there's a worthy successor to my crown."
emotioneater: (See here missy)

[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-06-03 04:52 am (UTC)(link)
Cooper leaned forward, keeping his voice low. His eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone who might listening in. "I can understand about wanting to help, but be careful." Play with fire, get yourself burned, and all that other well-intentioned nonsense. "Especially since you don't have a coven t'back you up if things get hairy."
emotioneater: (Dead eyes)

[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-06-03 06:22 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm not saying you have to turn a blind eye. I'm just saying that you need to keep a low profile. They don't like problems. If they think you're a problem, the next thing you know I'll find your body dumped in a bin behind an alley somewhere." He looks as serious as he ever had discussing the situation. He'd been all for saying fuck the government, help the common folk, and let anarchy reign back in the day. It had ended with him swinging from the gallows. Since then, he'd become a bit more cautious in regards to going against the status quo.

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viduation: (pic#9016548)

June 3rd

[personal profile] viduation 2015-06-05 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
By day, Derek raises few eyebrows in Barnet, and that suits him fine. At a glance, the place is the same as ever. People go about their business. The schools are full. There's a queue at the Waitrose. It's both a relief and a concern, that things can be so normal when the Night Council and Redbright are flushing out opposition. Derek lingers in the area through the morning. Very little of note seems to happens, but he catches the whispers. And, at one point, he finds the card.

Abigail Widdowson seems quite capable of going under the radar as well, but when Derek catches sight of her it's impossible not to remember their recent conversation. She's here for a purpose - there's no doubt in his mind of that much, but when her purpose could so easily swing either way, Derek's curiosity is piqued.

Naturally, he follows her once he sees her, always at a distance and always with the utmost care. It doesn't last long, because it doesn't have to. Soon, he sees what he expected to: Abigail, sliding the card into the hand of a passer-by.

After that, it's simply a case of waiting until they're somewhere quiet.

"Abigail."

He comes to a stop a few feet from her, and his expression is flat as a tile and nigh impossible to read. A few moments pass in heavy silence, and then he raises the card between two fingers, glancing at it as though this is the first time he's read it. Briefly, he considers how different this is to their previous meeting. It is not simply the lack of fancy clothes. Abigail looks pale and drawn, tired.

He passes the card back to her.

"Must be popular."
viduation: (pic#8952855)

[personal profile] viduation 2015-06-05 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Her reaction appeases him in a hollow, distant way, purely because it's good that she should be on edge, that she should be worried. She needs to be, right now. It'll keep her from running directly into danger, and it might help her keep others from that, too. Still, although Derek's stance is all hard lines and steady footing, there's nothing aggressive in his movement, or how he looks at her.

He nods, because she appears to be right. She may not be the only one, but there definitely aren't many, and there probably aren't enough.

"You didn't expect different." It isn't a question. "But you came here anyway."
viduation: (pic#9099967)

[personal profile] viduation 2015-06-05 11:41 pm (UTC)(link)
He's not sure what changed her mind, but he believes her. There's a simple, earnest kind of promise in Abigail's tone, and Derek, perhaps unwisely, finds himself disregarding the knowledge that the Widdowsons had been considered untrustworthy.

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he comes closer to her.

"Hard to come back from a decision like that." She knows, he thinks, but the warning comes anyway.
viduation: (pic#9099965)

[personal profile] viduation 2015-06-05 11:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, she's not wrong. And maybe that laugh should be a concern - maybe the whole dark witch thing should be a concern. But experience has made Derek less disparaging than he was. Derek steps aside, out of her direct path, and the message is clear: he's not going to stop her. What she's doing may or may not be for the best, Derek isn't sure. He's not sure of Redbright either.

"Need a ride anywhere?"

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