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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"But I should know better." She can't face her past, even if she's desperate for retribution. For some sort of revenge against the nest that destroyed her life. And the lives of so, so many others.

She bites her lower lip. "You don't deserve them."

"You didn't deserve it. Life isn't fair." Ringer states plainly. She understands blaming oneself and the desire for revenge, even as it goes unspoken. It's the same sickness and distrust she feels for the Night Council and Unseelie even now. Someone told her in the aftermath that she'd come to feel better with time and a good support system. Ringer's never had support and time hasn't done jack. She wonders if Annie feels the same. "You can't always control your own mind."

Annie looks away, touching her chin to her shoulder and dropping her eyes.

"It isn't. And you can't. Just- I wish I could. I don't want to be like this. Finnick doesn't deserve a girlfriend like me." She speaks his name with reverence and affection, her Seelie boyfriend, the love of her life.

Ringer seems entirely empathetic until she mentions the name Finnick. Then the girl tenses, becoming visibly stiff and awkward. It's a man- a fey she's only recently met, and not in the best of circumstances. To think that arrogant flirt of a man has a girlfriend.. Ringer wonders how many he has and if Annie's delusional in believing Finnick to be better than he is.

"I didn't realize you and Finnick were a thing," she says plainly, relaxing now that the initial shock has worn off. "If you want him, he deserves you. Being broken doesn't make you unlovable."

Yes, yes indeed, he had a girlfriend. One he hadn't exactly met in the best of circumstances, but they'd been drawn to each other, understanding each other in ways that no one could ever explain. She loved him, though. And he loved her. She knew it. She had to believe it.

"You know him?" She tilts her head softly to the side and smiles. The very thought of him always made her feel warm. "He should be with someone who isn't broken. A girl who isn't me." That she would always believe. He was too good for her. But. "But you can't choose who you love."

"I met him recently." Ringer hopes to leave it there. The details are strange and unpleasant. Instead, she tries to direct it towards the subject of their relationship specifically - his and Annie's - to understand why a fae and a human might fall into that kind of relationship. Maybe it's the safety his power provides, even though she would probably benefit from being distanced from the entire supernatural world. If only there were possible.

"You can't," she agrees. "How long have you been together? Is he good to you?"

"Oh- he's hard to miss." Handsome, charming, with a trident. Women and men alike over the last few centuries had all fallen for him, she wasn't the first, and she wasn't going to be the last. Annie knew this.

"A while...?" She didn't know the exact amount of months. "He's really good. Really good." Her heart seemed to swell with even the simplest thought of him.

Ringer wasn't entirely sure how to explain to Annie that it wasn't like that with Finnick without explaining what it was like, that he stumbled onto her discovering a dead body and they both sort of threatened each other in the conversation. It didn't matter. Ringer had no interest in him and Annie would figure that out soon enough if she didn't know it already.

"Good." Her lips twitched with the hint of a smile. Regardless of her opinions of Finnick, if the man treated Annie well, then he was good enough for her and Ringer could keep her separate opinions separate. "How often does this happen? The flashbacks."

That honestly sounded like how Annie and Finnick had met. She'd gotten wind of one of the vamps from the attack, and had put on her best sundress and gone out hunting, using herself as bait. Finnick had thought she needed help, and the result was a fight and an eventual team-up. The rest of that was history.

"Uhm. It, ah- depends?" She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear, keeping her hands in it for a little longer than necessary. "too often. Once a week at least?" She went away, more often than that.

Ringer nodded, expression even. She took a moment to think about it, wondering if counseling could actually do any good, or if revenge would help, or if there was nothing at all but time. Training had been the main thing to help her. It was possible the effects would carry over to someone else.

"How good are you as a hunter?" She asked after a short silence.

Annie shifts, pulling at her hair. That's a question she's heard a lot, and the answer to it that she'd heard a lot was pretty good. But that was far from the truth. She'd slayed before, no questions asked. But she hardly would consider herself a good hunter, not after not being able to save anyone at District 4.

Never mind that the very fact she was alive spoke louder than her own words.

"Not very good."

"Do you want training to get better?"

It wasn't demeaning or judgmental. Ringer didn't know the best way to help, but she could continue to guess at ways. As far as she could tell, there were no negatives to training the woman up to defend herself better - from vampires, other creatures, or even Finnick - and plenty of potential benefits. Even if it didn't help her condition, it might help her to survive.

"You would- you'd do that?" She looks at Ringer with wide, innocent eyes. Surprisingly innocent, for all she's seen. Her mind had tried to find a way to keep her as innocent as it could.

"That'd be, wow. I'd like that. I can pay." She had money, and it wasn't right to take her up on the offer without giving her some sort of compensation.

"You don't need to pay." Ringer has plenty of money. More than she really knows what to do with, if she's honest. Not that she ever talks about it. It's the remnants from a father she has highly mixed and mostly negative feelings about. But it allows her to keep living her life, attending university and buying the supplies she needs, without ever having to stress much about finances.

"I'll teach you what I can. I can try to find people to teach you the things I don't know that you want to." Trusting them is another issue, but that's putting the cart before the horse. Baby steps. "What do you know and what-"

Ringer cuts off as someone walks by, stiffening slightly. After they pass, she continues. "-And what do you want to know?"

Annie considers. It'd be great, to get more training, pick up where she'd been forced to stop. It meant she might have more power, might be able to stop people from ending up like her. And if she could do that, it was worth it. It was more than worth it.

"I want to know everything. Anything you can teach me. I don't want-" she swallows. "I don't want it to happen again."

And she would still tip her handsomely for the help.

Ringer nods. She understands that desperation, knows that tenacity. It's the same attitude she had after her own traumas. The one that pushed her right into the arms of the people she hated and distrusted the most. Desperation is a dangerous game for that reason and she's only glad that she might be able to help steer Annie in a better direction.

"Be more specific. I can teach you about the races, their strengths and weaknesses. You can train physically. There's always more." A beat. "Do you play chess?"

"Physically." She can read as much as she wants, and already has been. Books come easy to her, easier than people, nowadays,

"That- that would be best," Annie amends only a few seconds probably too late. "I do. I used to play it, with, ah, my dad."

Ringer nods. She used to play with her father too. Painted hands, whiskey breath. One of the few good memories. It's not the point, not relevant, and she easily slides past the memory back to the topic at hand. "It's like chess. It's just as important to practice, or train, as it is to study and know the rules. Moves and counter moves. You have to understand your opponent to know the best way to defeat them."

She nods. "They- ah, at-" she waves vaguely to indicate District 4. "thought that, too. We had tests. Practical. Theoretical." She'd been at the top of her class, but it still wasn't good enough, and she knew it wasn't. Then the vampires had proven just that.

"You trained at a school?" Ringer asks with genuine surprise in her voice. The idea of any formal institutions that train people as hunters has never occurred to her as more than a theoretical program. Meeting someone who may have been to such a place - and ended up traumatized as a result of what happened there - doesn't exactly instill her with the best confidence, but, if true, it feels like a step in the right direction.

Annie nodded. "District Four- Fourth District." She goes with the proper name for the former institution, first. "It was, ah, in Ireland. It's not there, anymore." Destroyed in the attack that left her so broken. What remained now was surely haunted. She'd never gone back to try to explore, put the pieces further together. She didn't want to imagine what it was like, what would happen.

The news is somehow both encouraging and disheartening. Ringer wonders if all schools suffer the same fate and it's not a matter of if but when they'll be destroyed. No one deserves that, even the hunters. Unless they're as extremist as any of the creatures are about taking lives, but she can't imagine Annie to be anything like that.

"We'll find a safe place to train," she reassures the woman, tone softer than her usual neutral timbre. "Self-defense first, then attacks."

"Okay," Annie agrees. "There's a space. In, ah, in my flat." She points vaguely towards where the Kenzington neighborhood would be in the distance. They had what essentially was a home-gym in the cellar, however it was for more than just lifting weights or doing cardio. It wasn't as high-tech or all-inclusive as the spaces at District 4, but her grandmother had worked hard to provide Annie with a place if she wanted to continue her training.

But she didn't push it.

"Sure." There's no reason not to use the space if it's safe and well set up with good resources. If it turns out to not be any of those three things, they can always find another space later. It occurs to Ringer, after a beat, that Annie might not live alone and she considered whether it matters to her to train where Finnick lives or not, if it's worth asking. Not yet.

Ringer grabs a pen and paper from her pocket, scribbles her number on the sheet, and slides it across the table to Annie. "This is my mobile. Message me the address and we can coordinate a time."

The entire house has been taken careful care of. Annie wouldn't have it any other way- except when she was with Finnick, when she'd take off her silver-and-iron jewelry, for his sake- and therefore, neither would her grandmother. Annie was all she had left, and the two were close.

Annie accepts the piece of paper and puts it into her pocket. "Alright- I will. Thank you. This is, ah, a real big help. I'm sorry. About being an inconvenience. And, uhm, going away like that."

see the world through my own eyes [OPEN]

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