undergrounds | see the world through my own eyes [OPEN]

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see the world through my own eyes [OPEN]

A) HILLINGDON HOUSE

Ringer didn't particularly frequent the House. It was the sort of destination she only recalled when she needed something, be that information, work, or a random need to connect with something beyond her own life. University and her private hunting kept her busy often enough that it could be isolating at times and while she wasn't one to mind the time to herself, the girl knew that she stood a better chance of survival if she had more allies. Besides, sometimes it was nice to spend time with people who could hold a conversation about vampires, witches, and the other allegedly fictitious creatures of the night.

She ran a hand through her hair, a perfunctory gesture to push it out of her face, and took a seat off to the side by the wall. One of the counselors at her old school said she would probably continue to want her back to a wall for quite some time, called it Post Traumatic Stress. The woman may have been right. Ringer considered it a logical and safer choice in places that might be less than friendly. Still, she had taken to talking to strangers and acquaintances alike, trying to follow that whole 'no man is an island' practice. For that reason, she glanced up to the person who seemed unoccupied and offered a simple, "Hey."

B) DARK ALLEYS AND DEAD BODIES

Ringer was an intelligent person. Unfortunately, she was also fairly new at this whole hunting thing and made more mistakes than she'd care to acknowledge. When she came upon a dead body in central vampire territory, it never occurred to her that it would be anything other than a supernatural death and supernatural creatures to deal with. Crouching over the body, she turned the young woman's head and pushed her hair back, examining her neck for the telltale injury. Except there wasn't one. Turning the body over completely, she found the mark instead on the woman's breast and rolled her eyes at the cliche, gloved fingers tugging the clothing to cover in a more chaste fashion.

It wasn't until she heard sirens suddenly roar to life not far away, her black gloves covered in blood, that it occurred to her how bad this might look. She stood from the body, frozen with momentary panic, wondering if she should stay and admit to finding the body or if she should bolt and hope there were no witnesses to her presence here.

C) LIBRARY RESEARCH

The London Library was known for its vast resources, one of the largest such public institutions in the whole of the country. It was here that Ringer went to conduct her latest research, seated at one of the many long tables and absorbed in her own world despite the people wandering by. At least she had the table to herself at present.

It was a two birds with one stone kind of day, her homework from uni scattered in front of her with her laptop to the right, while the research she had yet to do stood in stacks both on her left and in the center of the table. She was nearly finished studying for her exam on psychology, at which point she could switch to studying the horde of archive clippings on mass deaths from the London area stretching back the last 20 or so years.

Unless, of course, someone decided to interrupt.

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Ringer turns slowly. Her eyes first take in the man - attractive, charming to an immediately unnerving level - and then his weapon: a trident. He's already proven himself to be too intelligent and of sound mind to be insane, so she has to assume he's a hunter, a fae, or something like it. No one carries a trident.

She drops her hands to her sides again, not reaching for her weapon and hoping that, at least for now, she has no reason to do so. Dark jeans, black jacket. They almost match. For some reason, she feels like that might not be a good thing.

"I found the body," she reiterated. Then, taking a slight risk, she added, "Whoever bit her is gone."

Finnick raises an eyebrow at her. Who, she said. It's a clue that she knows what's going on, unlike most of the oblivious humans in this city, but he doesn't quite know for sure. He doesn't respect the law of the Night Council, but he's interested in protecting the secrecy of the fae, so it's not enough to reveal himself just yet.

The sirens are blaring louder, and Finnick takes his eyes off Ringer just long enough to glance past her at the entrance of the alley. "We should go," he says. "This could look pretty bad for you."

That the man doesn't question her 'who' in place of 'what' all but confirms her suspicions that he's aware of the supernatural. When he suggests that they go, trying to save her from dealing with the police, it's more weight into the column of his likely being a fellow hunter. Although his inclusion of them together has her wondering if he means for them to talk more or if it's only a simplification of language.

"Yeah." Ringer nods. Then she turns and starts down the alley behind her, away from the sirens. Partially to test his attitude, partially to test his skills, and partially because she doesn't know how far out the police actually are, she breaks into a run. She's graceful and well trained, not the fastest by any means, but she moves smoothly and at the pace of a decent athlete or soldier. If he follows, she'll make no effort to lose him. If he doesn't, she'll simply continue on her way.

Finnick's a good runner. He slips his trident into a holster on his back and takes off after her, though he's significantly more casual. He could just open a door and escape, but he wants to ask her more questions and he doesn't know where she's going. By the time she stops, he's not far behind, and he's not even out of breath.

He checks behind them to make sure no one's following, and looks around to make sure no one's eavesdropping in. "So... you just found that body, did you?"

Ringer stops on the edge of a park when it's clear that they're no longer being pursued. She slipped the gloves from her hands and pocketed them along the way to hide obvious visible evidence of her involvement with the body. The hunter's in almost peak condition for someone her age, at least when it comes to running. When she finally turns to look at him, she's breathing heavily but clearly not worn.

It doesn't make sense for him to have followed her, not after saving her from the cops. Ringer runs a number of scenarios in her head as she makes a show of catching her breath, wondering if he's intending to kill her or wants to help, what race he is, and what his occupation is. It's possible she misjudged initially. After a moment, she straightens in order to reply.

"Yes." Simple as that. She has no reason to lie in this case. "Why did you follow me?"

"I have more questions," he explains. He doesn't take hold of his trident again, leaving it strapped to his back in a gesture of temporary trust. Scanning the park with a bored expression, he brings his eyes back to Ringer and sizes her up again before he speaks.

"How much do you know about the thing that killed her?"

More questions. The idea is dangerous. By agreeing, she's handing some level of control over to him, subtly declaring that he possesses enough authority or power to have a right to question her. While she's not keen on giving him the perception of superiority, she also feels it's the logical best bet at the moment, even as her mind works to pit her gun against his trident and guess at who would win.

"Enough to know it should die." Ringer knows a lot about vampires. There's always more to learn, however, and why try to rattle off a checklist and unintentionally prove ignorant of something important? It seems easier to play things intentionally vague until he owns up to more information himself. "Are you one of them?"

Finnick lets out a humourless laugh, and in doing so bares his teeth for her to see. So she does know, then. A hunter, most likely, or just a regular human caught up in things that are too ancient and powerful for her. He likes humans well enough, as long as they don't have enough magic to bind him, but he doesn't have a lot of respect for them when they try and get involved in supernatural games.

"No," he tells her. His grin stays put. "I'm more likely to be hunted by them than you are, which is why I'd like to see them dead. Starting with the one that did that."

He gestures in the direction they came from.

It's a telling answer without giving any definitive information on his species. Rather than formulate theories or play at why he might be a werewolf, or a fae, or something else beyond human, she asks him point blank: "What are you?"

It's in the same vaguely apprehensive, deliberately flat tone that most of her responses and questions come in. Ringer is a person best read via subtleties and in what remains unsaid, rather than through changes in her voice or expression. The person before her is less so, his arrogance shining through without obstacle.

"We want the same thing." For now, at least. And because she's much more a creature of logic than pride, she adds, "Are you going to help me stop it?"

Finnick considers dodging the question, raising an eyebrow at how forward she is. Being fae could potentially put a target on his back, so he makes a habit of keeping it to himself despite how proud he is to be one. After a moment he determines that she poses no greater threat if she knows or not.

"I'm a fae," he tells her, and his tone is nearly as flat as hers, though instead of apprehension he sounds like he's challenging her. "And I'll tell you what I know, if you give me your name."

Ringer tenses at the change in tone, sensing someone a lot more cunning than his initial arrogance makes him out to be. She shifts her weight, a subtle way of taking a half step back away from him, continuing to watch him closely. The girl prefers her personal space to remain untouched and that personal space grows knowing it's a fae in front of her.

"My name's Ringer," she offers easily. It's the name she prefers, one she feels more in touch with, and yet not the one that her uni, apartment, and other official paperwork uses. It helps keep her off the grid in some ways. "Who are you?"

Edited (added dialogue) 2015-11-24 01:25 (UTC)

"Finnick," he says, "of the Seelie court - not that you understand any of that." With a dismissive gesture he turns and wanders a couple steps into the darkness of the park. It's turning his back on her, sure, but he has quick instincts, and he glances over his shoulder at her a moment later anyway.

"Do you regularly hunt things that are much older and stronger than you?"

Nevermind that many vampires fit those criteria for him as well.

"Only when they attack or kill humans," she responds lightly. Ringer's eyes never leave him while her feet remain planted where they are for the moment. Her reply is meant to illustrate that she's not a crazed hunter who chases anyone or everyone on a whim. She just wants to protect her race.

Because he's being a bit of a dick, she adds, "I know it. The Seelie Court is slightly more trustworthy than the Unseelie. One of your Court convinced me you weren't all as bloodthirsty and careless with human life as the Unseelie I knew."

Finnick narrows his eyes at her as he turns, wandering through the shadows of some trees at the edge of the park. "The Unseelie may have different values but we're all fae. All equally capable of cruelty or kindness, like you and your kind."

She continues to watch him, knowing and understanding completely how much more power the fae possesses than her and how easy it would be for him to kill her if he chose to. The fact that he's taken any interest at all isn't a great sign, but Ringer hopes to use it to her advantage. It's why she's testing his attitudes now.

"Yeah, we are. But when a man tells me he's with Clerkenwell or Noonan crime syndicates, I know to expect death from him. At some point, in some way, with someone. Just like the Unseelie." She pauses, wondering if he's understanding her at all or if she's only pissing him off. "You might be as violent as the Unseelie I knew. An Unseelie might be kind. I prepare for the rules, not the exceptions."

Finnick looks down at the ground with a thoughtful frown. It's smart, to be prepared, but he still feels some part of what she's saying is rooted in human ignorance. He's learned not to be too quick to judge someone on their own ignorance; one doesn't know what one doesn't know after all, but it puts him in a poor mood nonetheless.

"Then you should learn another rule," he tells her, in an even tone that only hints at anger. "Fae care more about other fae than they do humans. I may be Seelie and I may disagree with every Unseelie I cross, but they're still my kind. You shouldn't parade your distrust of any fae in front of another unless you're looking to piss them off."

"Noted," she acknowledges with a nod. Ringer appreciates the advice, though the deceit by omission isn't really her usual style. There's merit to what he's saying. Even some of the worst of humanity is still worth saving, putting the value of their lives above the vampires, werewolves, and others. In that sense, it would be hypocritical to fault him for his views.

That said, as entertaining as it is to be demeaned and threatened, Ringer has places to be and things to do. "Are you going to help me?"

"What - kill the vampire?"

The corner of his mouth pulls back up into a smirk.

"I almost never pass up a chance to hunt down one of those filthy things."

"Find it, then kill it," she amends. The smirk and language simultaneously disturb and amuse her, though her expression shows only a raise of her eyebrows in vague surprise. After his comment about being pissed off, she thought there were need to be some convincing. This makes it a lot easier if he agrees.

"It was a recent kill. No more than three hours ago." That's still plenty of time for the thing to get away and it's unlikely they can catch it in one night. Whether that leads to a partnership or a few casual tips until they kill it, Ringer's hoping to get a decent ally out of it.

"They move fast," Finnick says. "In a few hours a vampire can get anywhere. Was it only one?"

He never did get a close look at the body.

"So far as I could tell, yes. One, adult, seemed recently turned." Ringer shifts her weight, feeling impatient. Not only was her investigation interrupted, but now they're standing here talking. Finnick's right about them getting away. At this point, it'll be nearly impossible to find the thing within the day. "Fast, efficient, violent."

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see the world through my own eyes [OPEN]

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Sorry for delay - feel free to drop

no problem! sorry about my lateness too

<3

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