undergrounds | The Actions of a Great Magician [ OPEN ! ]

A) An Audience with Norrell

Gilbert Norrell describes himself as having a scholar's love of silence. There are few things he dislikes so much as crowds, as people gossiping about nothing. Norrell's love is for his books, and for writing.

So it is that most days Norrell secludes himself in his offices, planning and reading and writing letters of discontent -- although it could be said that perhaps the letters of discontent take up most of his time, followed by the reading, followed last by the planning.

The rising of his rank is a thing that pleases Norrell, but he is wary of it all the same. There is another person he must work with, a woman, and he is at a loss for how to handle her. The women of Daybreak, on the whole, are stronger in temperament than he is used to. It gives him something of a headache.

Still, as both a High Priest of Daybreak and Coven Leader he has been forced to make an effort to be more accommodating. So it is that he ensures he has a few days set aside in each month to speak to anyone who wishes a moment of his time. It is begrudging, a thing that involves him pursing his lips a great deal and perhaps not being the most tactful of souls, but the grand building that is the Norrellite Coven -- all respectable yet elegant black and white frontage -- is allowing in people to speak with the High Priest himself for short appointments.

Of course, they are asked to identify themselves first, and Norrell does not meet them alone. He is more than aware that people may be jealous of his new position and wish his downfall! So it is that guards flank the room his heavy desk occupies, and Norell himself awaits those who wish to speak to him with palpable impatience.

B) A Visit to Westminster

Norrell's greatest wish, aside from of course to generally be recognised for the great man he is, is to be recognised by the Night Council. The Night Council, to him, is the best place a man can be to ensure the restoration of English magic to greatness! They have the power to make the laws, and so through them -- well! Through them so much could be done! The Fae driven back entirely, Midnight put a stop to, magic made respectable once more and London made a safe place!

So it is that regularly Norrell can be found in Westminster, trying to get an audience with the Night Council or a message to them. It is unfortunate that he has yet to be given a place on it, but Childermass has assured him these things never happen quickly. That soon they will see him for his greatness, it may just take time. Until then, he should of course associate with all the right people and make his voice heard.

This is made difficult when it is so obvious to him that Sylvia Redbright is entirely envious of his success and sees him as a threat. She, he is sure, is the reason why he cannot get an audience nor be heard!

He sits in the waiting area a while, lips pursed in discontent, before finally deciding he cannot wait any longer and rising to leave. Busy indeed! How could they be too busy to see him, High Priest of Daybreak? The man who made peace in Lambeth? It will not do! His time is precious, and cannot be wasted waiting at the Night Council's convenience! So flustered is he that he nearly barges into a person on his way out. Immediately his demeanour changes from one of silent fury to unease and nerves.

"Oh!" he manages in surprise, and lifts his hands up a little as if in defence.

C) Book Store

Most of the time Gilbert Norrell will either request delivery of a book or send a person to pick it up for him.

This time, however, his impatience has gotten the better of him. Childermass is busy, Lucas has time off and he simply cannot wait. Someone might attempt to steal the book away, they might sell it to another if he waits too long to pick it up, all sorts of problems might arise!

That, and it's the only copy he's found so far. Norrell is eager to see what condition it is in and begin reading it and making a copy.

He paces impatiently in the book store, waiting for his order to be fetched. The books around him are, largely, regarded with disdain for they are fiction. Norrell has little interest in fiction, almost as little interest as he has in continuing to be in this book store! He has so much work to be getting done, and yet they insist on keeping him waiting!

Any other patrons he spots are regarded with looks of disinterest, dislike or irritation simply because they are there. He only hopes they do not try and strike up idle conversation with him.

Threaded | Flat

Siobhan has never been one to respect authority, or rather she doesn't see why she should treat people who have it any different than she treats anyone else. Since her general stance on how to treat people is to be really nice to them this hasn't gotten her in too much trouble so far, but when it comes to people who would prefer it if you were just really impressed by them instead that doesn't tend to go over super well.

Norrel... well, she really isn't all that impressed with him, and he also doesn't always make it easy to be nice to him.

Actually, he makes that hard most of the time so she tends to just stay out of his way since she isn't too terribly invested in being around him. Sometimes you just have to pick your battles.

Still, word is that he wants Daybreak witches to help vampires take over fae territory and that... well, that really doesn't seem like spreading light and goodness and balance and isn't that what being a witch is all about? Because that's what she thought it was all about.

So, it would seem that she has to make her way to the Norrelite Coven and have a bit of a talk with her new High Priest.

This is one of the very rare occasions where she does not enter somewhere with a big smile on her face, though in all honesty a frowning Siobhan is hardly an intimidating sight. She is tiny and looks like her gigantic bright yellow sweater is about to swallow her, and her hair has decided that today is a frizzy day so her head is surrounded by a ginger halo of huffiness.

"Is it true that you're going to help the vampires drive fae out of Lewisham?"

Norrell isn't the only one with hopes of eventually being recognised by the Night Council. Of course, for Abigail Widdowson, it's far more difficult. She is patient, though, and there are plenty of small opportunities, which she is keen on exploiting. The representatives won't speak with her, not really, but their assistants and other minor officials were willing to accept a free lunch with no strings attached. Not that there was ever such a thing. But the strings weren't obvious. Just gestures of good will.

When someone nearly runs into her after she sees a young aide out of a cab and into the building, she does her best to just smile, ready to wave it off. Then, she sees him.

"Ah." The apology she'd offer for politeness's sake dies on her lips. Instead, she just says, "Sir."

There were very few reasons for Reynard to walk into a book store. Of course he could read, but he only rarely saw any need to. However, he had needed to duck into a shop to avoid someone who might be looking for a thing or two of theirs that could have wounded up in Reynard's possession, so this store worked as well as any.

He hadn't expected the powerful presence of magic and of course he immediately followed the pull. There was something alluring about any kind of power, be it magical, physical or influential. It just filled Reynard with this urge to poke. That was nothing new, but that didn't mean it couldn't still pass the time very amiable.

He watched the man fidget for a while. Clearly he was impatient, waiting for something. So he finally moved up to stay next to him, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and moving just close enough to count as too close, without actually brushing against him. "Waiting for Fifty Shades of Grey?"

Perhaps the only man to be guaranteed an unterrupted audience with Gilbert Norrell is Childermass. For Childermass has been the other man's shadow since long before he had guards to speak of, and no doubt he will be there long after their need has passed. He has been busy himself, of late, working on getting ears and eyes where previously he had none. Out in the streets of the city beyond. The areas in particular that Mr Norrell might not have approved of setting foot. And while nothing has yet come to fruition, it will in time. Childermass knows what he is doing. Childermass is not a man to fail a job.

He does not need to announce himself to enter the room. He does not need to follow the usual protocol of being escorted in by the guards. Childermass more often than not escorts Norrell himself into the chamber. The guards understand that once Childermass returns from an errand, they are to be awarded privacy for their conversation. And so they are.

Childermass crosses the room and sinks into a chair positioned across the desk, resisting the urge to sit back and put his feet up although it would be nice to relax for a moment. Norrell, no doubt, would not be as pleased by it. Settling for turning the chair sideways so that he may lean sideways against the front of the desk instead.

"Have you finished your letters?" he asks. The latest flurry of them, at least.

forward dated to around the Lewisham plot

Westminster

C)

A