alethiological: (Alse Young (d. 1647))
Willard H. Wright ([personal profile] alethiological) wrote in [community profile] undergrounds2015-08-15 08:20 am

August Free Post; I'm on a Carr kick I'm sorry

[A; Till Jet Lag Do Us Part]

It's just one of the usual boring evenings on the stations, waiting for your train to arrive. The usual terrible conditions, unhelpful staff, and random hobos sleeping on the benches. Or random tourists passed out from jet lag waiting for the train. Maybe you're one of those people nice enough to stop someone from stealing a suitcase. More likely, you're the one stealing it.

In any case, you're immediately treated to the siren sounds of accented swears and the person you are hypothetically trying to rob glaring at you. Gold eyes are suitibly intense for that. "What time is it?"

---

[B; Behind the Crimson Blinds]

Hillingdon is known for many things, mostly the fact everyone in it is crazy, or assholes, or both. What is less known is that, like any proper association of crazy assholes, they keep records. Kills, assignments, random receipts, half-finished letters. A pit of madness no sane person would enter of their own free will. Said Will can be found in the pit of madness, surrounded by piles of organized papers and flipping through another one with the ease of a mindless drone.

---

[C; And So To (Almost) Murder - first come, only served]

Later in the month, Lewisham is now a safe haven to the Fae. Which is a total load of nonsense, who leaves overseas for a month just to come back to their claimed No Man's Land being filled with a bunch of flighty, irresponsible monsters? They don't even have the decency to be subtle about it. Which is surprising, considering how subtle the takeover itself was.

Someone else masterminded it, obviously. Getting a name is easy. All that needs to be done is follow protocol: get one of the abominations to confess, remove the sin as is required, track down the one responsible and Fix It. It's just another in a myriad series of mistakes, and Our Purpose is to fix mistakes.

The only thing you hear is a sharp shout, cut off far too fast, but no one minds one person missing. Unless you do, which means you find one (count, 1) Fae held out swordpoint by one (count, 1) psychopath, bright gold eyes and black roiling smog. It also means you get immediately glared at because, honestly now, who interrupts an Equalizing. Rude much.

---

[D; Wildcard]

> insert words receive subpar tags


((apologies for slowtags for aforementioned reasons))
reticence: (modern promise)

B!

[personal profile] reticence 2015-08-15 02:41 pm (UTC)(link)
Faolan may not be crazy, but he's definitely one of those assholes contributing paperwork to be organized and then not really organizing it himself. He's had to go through the records to reference his own past work a couple times, done a lot of swearing, and then never really done anything to fix it. Because who has time for that really? Certainly not a man on a deadline, with bills to pay and monsters to catch. It would seem others had different ideas in mind, however.

Faolan peers down at the other man from where he sits amidst the chaos. Maybe they've heard of each other, maybe they haven't. Faolan's name has certainly been on enough of those forms over the years he's been a hunter in the clan now. He hasn't exactly been all that social, however. And not being one to hang around Hillingdon House without a purpose, he's easily missed. But he's there with a purpose -- to access the records. Those same records that this other man seems to be there for as well.

"Having fun, there?" he can't help but asking. Wryly.
reticence: (modern hmm)

[personal profile] reticence 2015-08-15 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Faolan has to quirk a smile at the joke, though he knows better than to get into the way of the other man and his work. He stands back, crossing his arms across his chest, his ever-present leather jacket creaking slightly as he does. What year? Oh, right. The report that he'd been looking to cross-reference. "Three years ago," he says. "April. I don't remember how else it might have been filed, but..." Well, seeing as how everything's not really where he left it, he's willing to bet he'll be no help in that regard either.

"Faolan. Faolan O'Neill. That would be the name on the report. It should be, anyway. I was the one who filed it. My case and all." He shrugs slightly. Yeah, he's probably part of the reason to blame that it's all a mess. What can he say, this whole paperwork thing isn't really his forte.
reticence: (modern oh yeah sure)

my apologies for the delay, the work week is killer :x

[personal profile] reticence 2015-08-22 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Faolan nods slightly and begins to sift his way through the paperwork as instructed, making certain to keep it in order, especially since he's got the other man watching over him as he does.

'One of the ones that actually works,' he had said, and he has to quirk an ironic smile at that one. Well, that he does. "What can I say," Faolan says, as he sifts through the papers. "I may not always get it right, but I like to at least try and follow protocol. Set a good example and such. Figure someone has to, in a place like this."

He glances up at the other man. "What about you?" he inquires of him. "What have you done, to land yourself in the position of having to organize this lot? Don't tell me that you volunteered," he adds, cracking something of a wry smile at him.
megidoomed: (♈ just as long as i complete)

D, like this was gonna be a thing that got avoided lbr

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-08-15 04:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Being back in London was surely a busy experience. The sudden re-acclimatizing to it's atmosphere, the bustling annoyance and discordant accents, the jet lag. It's a drastically different place than America, after all, with it's own idiosyncrasies and habits. And after so long away, surely one could be forgiven for missing the little details.

It'd started with simple neglect. Without the subtle support of an anchor that she'd grown used to, her progress towards anything tangible crumbled. Then came her run-in with the Fae, and her energy faded further. She'd tried to contact him over the month he'd been missing gone, occasional Skype pings and half-started conversations abound - but every single one ended with the same kind of frustration, landmines tripped and a feeling that something was wrong that she didn't know how to fix.

Eventually it just... stopped, as her attempts stalled all together. Which meant she missed Will's eventual return to London, but that was surely okay. Maybe she'd finally broken the laptop. No big deal, right?
Edited 2015-08-15 17:38 (UTC)
megidoomed: (♈ when the time comes that you see)

because she feeds on his tears

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-08-15 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
In her defense, this really wasn't how she intended today to go. Or this week for that matter.

One of the small advantages to being a ghost was that, no matter how far she tries to roam, sooner or later she'll always go back to her Haunt. There's times where she'd wish her haunt was elsewhere, somewhere with more life to it. But right now the quiet is appreciated, honestly, as it lets her recover in peace. Her manifesting is too out of sync to leave, but that's okay. That means she's safe here. The weird Fae can't find her if she's not leaving trails everywhere.

For a given value of safe, anyway. She's not an idiot. She knows that was a stupid mistake and she can't tell if she escaped in time, she doesn't know how much is that anchor thing Clara mentioned and nothing's making sense. Everything's out of focus again, and-- no, she's fine. She's okay. She's--

--there's a knock. Everything grows still, the moment between the alert and her name stretching out awfully long until time starts again.

She doesn't need to stare at the door, as the voice behind it registers immediately, but it's something she feels like indulging in to ground herself. The little details are important. "Oh. You're back. That's good."
megidoomed: (♈ if you'd pretend to be surprised)

his fault for feeding her everyone knows they follow you home

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-08-16 08:30 am (UTC)(link)
Hiding in Damara's room had been the best idea, okay. It was the only room that had kept a functioning threshold when the rest had faded in neglect, so it made sense to curl up there until the danger had passed. Nevermind that the localized chaos only got worse the longer she hid - it wasn't too hard to notice the change in the borough's atmosphere, even spooked as she was, which only became an excuse to drop contact altogether. And that's fine. It'll be easier to make sense of when her manifesting comes back.

Which means when Will cheerfully smashes the threshold aside like it's made of cardboard, she can't help but flinch and sink further into the corner. Walls are barely noticeable to her at this point, she can leave if she has to faster then he can-- no, it's Will, he's safe. Right?

"I'm okay." Blatant lies, but if she stares at the door instead of him she wont have to talk about it. He's probably trying to freak her out on purpose with how well the sharp gold stands out in the gloom of her apartment, anyway. "Just wanted to hang here for a bit. Less things to break."

... She. Didn't mean to say that last part out loud, but whatever. It's still a valid answer. Fight her.
megidoomed: (♈ it's how i'm meant to function)

is he sure about that i mean she's seen his laptop

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-08-16 10:44 am (UTC)(link)
Will casually sweeping off the desk gets watched idly. The room has nothing left of value to break so it's not worth getting upset over, but it's still weird. Why is he sitting, she doesn't understand-- oh.

There's the first flicker of emotion since he entered the room, a mute sort of confusionworryhurt that gets stomped out just as fast as it shows. It shouldn't be surprising that he's being ridiculous, given how the last few weeks went, and clearly she should ignore it because it's dumb to get upset over things like this.

"I did contact you," and it's stated with the toneless weight of an immutable fact. The usual stubborn anger that should, by all means, be building in her voice by now is conspicuously absent. "You stopped replying after a while, so I figured it was easier to deal with it alone. That way I wouldn't be causing a problem."
Edited 2015-08-16 10:46 (UTC)
megidoomed: (♈ it's pretty much this hard to keep)

lies and slander his laptop isn't free of sin either

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-08-17 02:36 pm (UTC)(link)
"You answered a couple. Earlier. All the later ones got ignored." Yeah, no. Aradia doesn't even notice the obvious contradiction at first, as extracting herself from the wall was quickly deemed more important now that she'd noticed her tangibility slip-up. Gross, she's supposed to be better then that, what a rookie mistake.

But the exact moment her thoughts catch up is clear. She freezes again mid-movement, head snapping back around to watch Will properly, and her hesitant not-quite-correction is oddly quiet. "Or I thought they were?"

She knows they sent, as she remembers staring at each timestamp to make sure. Remembers the backlash from the broken lights when frustration bled past her shaky control, too, and there's another muted flash of guilt over realizing that his apartment probably looks like a trainwreck. But that means either his weird memory problems got worse when he vanished, or he really didn't see them somehow - yet he replied to the first bunch of inane texts, so that makes no sense.

The possibility that it's a lie and that their current conversation is fake pops up and immediately gets overruled. Dwelling on that charming outcome will only lead to bad things. Shrug, move on, it's not worth the hassle- "But that's okay, I guess. It ended up being pretty irrelevant anyway."
Edited (f-f-f-five million edits *i'm so sorry*) 2015-08-17 14:52 (UTC)
megidoomed: (♈ everything will come in time)

it's about as free of sin as her *foot*. dumbass.

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-08-19 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)
"But I'm-" okay, and he can probably hear the way that halted sentence was originally intended to end. A hasty word-swap doesn't count for rejection purposes, synonyms be damned, fighting her is still a valid outcome, "fine."

And there's the unconscious snap of feedback that follows anything she does; except it's way too weak without the usual whipcrack of temper backing it, nothing left to break but another degree of warmth leeched from the air. Aradia barely notices, still staring at Will like he's grown a second head - or maybe lost his old one, truthfully, he's sounding about that level of ridiculous.

Please ignore how she's almost fading into the background. The narrative is doing it's best to forget, too.

"Sorry about it being weird. I think that's about when my hands started going through the keyboard again." A beat, because wait no she's trying to steer the conversation away from the obvious pitfall. Crap. "I didn't realize a month counted as early for vanishing routines. I'll try to remember that next time."

If she turns it back on him again, she can get by without talking about it, without thinking about it, she's okay. Aradia's not quite so out of it that she didn't pick up on the monotone, buddy.
Edited (lbr it wouldnt be a skull-tag without syntax errors early in the morning - take 2) 2015-08-19 22:42 (UTC)
megidoomed: (♈ in my current state)

i guess that means her sole was worth dying for

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-08-20 04:04 pm (UTC)(link)
The glare stings and she doesn't know why. She's not afraid, so that can't be it - admittedly its intimidating, though closer to someone pressing ice into the bones of her spine then anything actually painful. But it's enough to make her hesitate and her control slips, twists that awful hollowness lodged in her ribcage and



-and Aradia immediately clamps back down on the fact that she's entirely okay and ignores how reality flatlined for half a second, tops. It felt like early August on repeat, all confusion and sudden fluctuations in her control and she remembers Clara mentioning that, once. How ghosts tend to fade after a while if they do stupid things like unanchor themselves entirely. But she swore she fixed that, didn't she?

When Will switches topics and goes for her terrible attempt at a distraction, it's almost a relief. Even if she can't really shake the feeling that she skipped something important.

"It was." At least she's starting to break away from the dazed monontone, like a radio slowly being tuned - it's stilted and offkilter but it's something, at least. Unfortunately, 'something' is entirely flickers of concern over the apparent time-loss on Will's part. "Unless you forgot to look at a calendar the whole time."
Edited 2015-08-20 16:12 (UTC)
megidoomed: (♈ when the time comes that you see)

idk but you really walked into that one

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-08-22 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
All of the internal conflict presented in the narrative ends up wasted on Aradia. Now that there's something concrete to focus on, it's easier to ignore the not-quite-numbness pressing into her senses, and so much harder to notice little details like landmines. Which means she misses the cause of the neurotic snap, but on the plus side she's mostly sure that she's worked out how to switch from 'detached staring' to 'unimpressed staring' again.

"But your logic is bad," and naturally the pot continues to call the kettle black, because it's not hypocrisy if nobody brings it up. "Keeping track of the date isn't the same as waiting for a shift to end. How are you supposed to know which days you have to show up for otherwise?"

There's a single, innocent moment after her question where nothing hurts and everything is fine.

It's promptly ruined when Aradia remembers the stupid hours she's seen him keep over the months they've been friends, and this time she's not quick enough to block out the muted feeling of kicking herself in the mental shins before it takes hold. "... Whatever. Your logic's still dumb if you seriously think that was a week."
megidoomed: (♈ it's a bit difficult to sympathize)

i cant think of any puns this early in the morning but jfc this took me three weeks this isnt bueno

[personal profile] megidoomed 2015-09-23 08:24 pm (UTC)(link)
"Why wouldn't you be allowed to- oh, nevermind."

The narration has encountered a slight but noticeable problem. That problem is Aradia being far too out of sorts to realize why Will let the argument go so easily, while simultaneously being coherent enough to catch onto it being A Problem in the first place - landmines aren't worth dodging in the face of stupid like this, after all, why would those ever be relevant. The very idea is absurd. Shame on you for thinking this would ever make sense.

What all of that actually translates into is more confusion and a half-hearted squint. The snap felt uncomfortable-familiar that time, but it's quickly chalked up to the differences his absence left behind instead of something useful, even if that doesn't sit quite right the longer she thinks about it. Eugh. "It's still pretty ridiculous, but... I guess it's okay? Maybe leave notes or something next time, though. That way I'm at least warned about stupid absences instead of... whatever."

Aradia neglects to press her accidental advantage, instead trailing off into stilted acceptance, the blank half-eaten static seeping back into her thoughts. But for the first time since her unfortunate brawl, she's managed to forget her own problems long enough to pull herself together a bit. So even with the missed hints, maybe they both win-

"... wait, if the house prize is nothing, why does it even count."

Or maybe nobody wins. That works too.
rules_winter: (considering your predicament)

C obviously

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-16 07:22 am (UTC)(link)
Mab had spent some time wandering the streets of the territory she'd claimed just to enforce things. One had to stay on top of places that were as wild as Lewisham had been. She was fine with the creatures there staying so long as they towed the line, and if they didn't, things must be dealt with quickly and efficiently. So when she felt a surge of fae magic she turned down the street she'd felt the pull from and and found herself walking in on an interesting tableau.

The fae was staring in surprise at the point of the sword, his ugly face damp with sweat. And the man holding him at swordpoint turned his head to glare at Mab as though she was next on his list. How very interesting, and he wasn't human. There was something seriously off about his magic but he felt, underneath all the twisted magic, fae. Perhaps not pure fae but close enough. Black smog rolled around him and the fog that accompanied her seemed to curl around it seeping in.

Her head tilted a little and she raised one brow at the glare, if it bothered her there was no sign of offense. "Do not let me interrupt." Her voice was sweet, like a chime in the quiet of the night but low and warmer than she appeared to be. She lifted a hand to indicate he should continue. After all, if her fae could not defend himself he was hardly any use to her at all. Mab did not suffer weakness. "By all means, carry on."
Edited 2015-08-16 07:23 (UTC)
rules_winter: (not remotely amused.)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-16 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)
His face blanked out quickly, like a fae might when removing the mask of expression they tended to wear. Something is going on here but she cannot determine precisely what it is even as the wrongness surges, breaking like a wave on the ocean and the sword slides cleanly into the hapless lower fae, then cuts through like butter. The head falls to the concrete and rolls a little, face still caught in surprise as it comes to a stop against a post box.

If he could be more predictable, the efficiency would be something that impressed her. But the wrongness, the unbalance inside him was ... concerning. "Lady is acceptable." She replied as though one of her servants (or one of the other's fae's servants) wasn't bleeding out on the sidewalk like a spilled bottle of pop. The heart slowed but the blood was still coming out in measured bursts with each beat. "And what should I call you?"
rules_winter: (not remotely amused.)

LOL n/p

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-20 07:28 am (UTC)(link)
Mab's eyes follow the casually abused sword and then as the wrongness tilts on an axis she feels it disappear immediately once the mist is gone. Her own fog isn't so much magical as a result of the cool that surrounds her hitting the hot humid London air. Rune magic. That is interesting. She takes note of the runes though they are unfamiliar to her. She'll remember.

"Wright." She replied, sounding it out in a perfect mirror of his pronunciation. He truly was rude, such a direct question. And sulky my Lady. He certainly does not have to call her his. "What business do you have in Lewisham, Mr. Wright?" Her reply is cool as well. Ice starts to sparkle on patches of water left on the sidewalk from the evening cleaning someone had done. There is an underlying curiosity as well. "And what has happened to you? So twisted, knotted and bent."
rules_winter: (not remotely amused.)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-23 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
It's odd, the bubbling up of that twisted magic, then it pops like a soapbubble and she can feel a faint burn of anger or annoyance coupled by that glare. She takes note of the sword in his hand again and her own power builds a little but she doesn't release anything just yet. Her eyes narrowed in response. She did not know this man, didn't particularly care about whoever 'his' were so long as they weren't allied to the fae and had no knowledge of any debt owed to him.

"What debt would this be, Mr. Wright? Each fae holds debts of their own." And if he was asking if her 'courts' kept to their favors owed, he was definitely outcast. "And who are yours?" So much impudence from an outcast fae. She doesn't particularly like anyone suggesting she does not keep her bargains. Invisible cold pushes against him as her power builds in response to his threatening manner.
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: hee.)

B

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-08-16 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
There was a rustling, the sound of papers being shifted and put aside in the wrong order. Not that there was a right order at present for the immense stack of papers currently in front of Heiji. But he was clearly not helping the situation, only moving it.

He hummed cheerfully as he worked, only haphazardly glancing at the sheafs he was manhandling.
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: yeah!)

HE DOES WHAT HE WANTS

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-08-17 05:51 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh, just some stuff on this hunter I met recently. She got clawed up by this giant cat while she was trying to blow up a fae door, and still seemed pretty set on it even when I told her it was a bad idea. So, you know. Thought I'd drop by. Plus it turns out I know a couple of you guys, so I can say hi."

So it was an information-gathering call, and also a social call. And also a shuffling papers around call. Have fun trying to decipher that terrible story.
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: hee.)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-08-19 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Wow, what the hell? All of a sudden, Heiji could maybe see what Stiles had been talking about, that yeah, this guy might very well have shoved a teenager in a closet and maybe like 20 more teenagers on top of that.

"By the year the case started or the year it ended?" Whichever it was supposed to be, Heiji was now doing the opposite while simultaneously wondering what was up with the sudden accent.

"I woulda thought you'd be concerned about one of your fellow hunters getting their asses kicked. That's real cold."
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: !)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-08-20 12:03 am (UTC)(link)
"But they're your friends, ain't they?" God, didn't Hillingdon House have any team spirit. He started sorting them as had been dictated, though he thought there was some charm to the total chaos in which the papers had started.

"So who are your hunters?"
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: deduction)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-08-20 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, that seemed like some crazy brainwashing if he'd ever seen any, and a response that begged a number of questions. Like what authorization? Did you have to stand in line for it? Get a hole punch?

"You're filin' that wrong. That's an addendum to an earlier case."
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: and that's that!)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-08-22 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
Huhhhh that was weird. Not only the behavior and the magic, but the fact that there was a crowbar on the wall, meaning that someone had needed it often enough that placing it there permanently was more convenient.

"Interns, right. You do give them a stipend at least, right? It's hard out there for a student." Maybe he'd pick at this a bit, ask Aradia if she'd noticed any weirdness. He'd seen a lot of bizarre magical afflictions floating around, but this one seemed almost like a separate presence, imprinted on its owner.
detectiveofthewest: (Heiji: deduction)

[personal profile] detectiveofthewest 2015-08-27 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Why didn't Hillingdon invest in newer filing systems. Computers. The wave of the future. Instead it seemed to blow all its dough on employing surly former hardware store-owning teenagers, and also teenagers with explosives. Heiji would never run a detective agency like this, definitely not.

"Back home?" Heiji kept getting the distinct impression that to Will, London was temporary.
emotioneater: (Dead eyes)

D Cause we need an aftermath thread

[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-08-21 06:59 am (UTC)(link)
Cooper had been busy the past few weeks, between getting high off of fae blood and subsequently sobering up after the entire fiasco was over. He had one person to thank for the whole affair. Sure, he'd been reckless to drain the hunter's blood, but twisting the logic in his mind, it was Willard's fault to begin with. He had a whole pile of resentment bubbling away below the surface.

Tracking him down was easy enough. Once he had someone's blood in his system, their scent was permanently etched into his mind. Cooper was waiting, leaning up against a street lamp with a halo of light surrounding him as the hunter turned the corner. His face looked quite grim and completely unlike his usual cocky smile. "I've been lookin' for you."
emotioneater: (And then...?)

[personal profile] emotioneater 2015-09-01 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
He watches as Will just breezes on past him. He's more than just a little miffed. Why does nobody take him seriously around here? It's the teenage face, isn't it? Having anyone see a seventeen year old with any sort of gravitas is asking too much. Cooper waits for a moment before running after him. It doesn't take him more than a moment to catch up.

"You're gonna try 'n outwalk a vampire? Really?" Short legs or no, he can do this all night long. Vampiric speed has its perks.