[ OPEN ]

[hurtfew]

Date: 12th~18th of October
Plot: Lambeth Territory Claim by Daybreak
Areas: Lambeth and surrounding areas!



The fae may have taken Croydon from Daybreak, but Daybreak is out to prove it is still strong -- and one Daybreak witch in particular is hoping to prove that he is the man to turn them around from the loss. Gilbert Norrell plans to bring order to the lawless territory of Lambeth, via less than pleasant means. He intends to drive out any troublemakers, anyone who disagrees with Daybreak, or have them persuaded by members of Hillingdon. Unfortunately for him, it won't be quite as easy as all that...

[ ooc; log for the Daybreak territory claim! You can give me a ping if you want to be involved and hadn't signed up already! It runs through the entire week, starting off quietly and subtly until the disappearances begin to be noticed and the fight back intensifies. Thread as little or as much as you like, start your own thread or tag what I put up for Norrell! (And sorry it's up a little late!) ]

Comments

[protagonized]

"They're not my allies," Simon points out, though he's looking distinctly uncomfortable now.

Still, it's enough for him to follow up with, "If I help you, and that's if, what do I get in return? I am not risking life and limb without remuneration."

[hurtfew]

Simon's defence changes Norrell's temperament somewhat, his tone. He goes from impatient, irritable disgust to something a little more serious -- somewhat aghast at such a proclamation.

"Not your allies?" he echoes, in disbelief. "Not your allies? You are a student, are you not? If you are a shifter then no doubt you are a meta human, have been helped by Sylvia Redbright. Sylvia Redbright is the Mother of Witches, President of the Night Council. If you have been helped by Redbright then she is your ally, and any of those in her factions. They have provided a resource for you, safety, education, help so you understand your position and if you do not think that they are your allies despite this -- well, then you have very poor manners indeed."

[protagonized]

Simon blinks at the man's tirade and then looks away. His ears are bright red, a good indication that the words have had the intended effect.

"...I'll help," he mutters, not making eye contact. "But I expect to be paid."

[hurtfew]

Norrell lets out a sigh of dismay at this, lips thinning unhappily, before finally tutting and shaking his head.

"A bursary could be arranged, if you do well. I won't be paying people to sit about pretending to work."

[protagonized]

"It's a deal, then."

Simon is now officially a mercenary for hire. Oh, if Mum could only see him now.

"I hope this is all worth it."

[hurtfew]

"The price of peace is worth any cost," he chides, and begins to open a small book -- lifting glasses suspended about his neck on string to balance on the end of his nose and retrieving a pen.

"Name?" he demands, for if he is to promise a bursary to someone then he must know who it is. That way he can also have Childermass look into him, too.

[protagonized]

"Simon Braithwaite-O'Neill, though I usually drop the hyphenation and go by Simon O'Neill. Two Ls." His parents were famous enough in certain circles that sometimes he preferred not to be immediately recognized as the Cynthia Braithwaite's bouncing baby boy.

"Anything else?"

[hurtfew]

Norrell begins to write, then pauses -- lifts his eyes slowly to Simon and regards him with a look that informs him his answer is entirely tiresome and in need of adjustment.

"Which name are you registered under," he insists, "at Redbright? Braithwaite-O'Neill or just O'Neill?"

Honestly, such unnecessary complication.

[protagonized]

Simon thinks for a moment.

"Simon Arthur Eugene Braithwaite-O'Neill." It's a mouthful, that's for sure, but it is his legal name and is likely to be the one on the Institute's records.

"Will that be it?"

[hurtfew]

What an utterly ridiculous name. Norrell lofts an eyebrow at it but writes it down regardless in his characteristic neat, careful penmanship.

"Yes," he says finally, closing the book and holding it to himself. "And I will expect to see you there, assisting."

[protagonized]

"I'll be there," Simon says stiffly.

He exits the doorway, allowing Norrell to leave.

[hurtfew]

Well, he should certainly hope so if he hopes to be paid! Norrell regards Simon with a last look of mild disgust before re-arranging his books, closing them and holding them close to his chest protectively.

"See to it," he says finally, and sweeps out past Simon without looking back. He will remember this, though, because Norrell does not like to feel cornered or pressured -- and few people can hold a grudge like Gilbert Norrell.