Once more unto the breach, dear friend, once more (Lewisham territory claim)

[occultdisciple]

Or close the wall up with our English dead
November 20th, afternoon

Lewisham was a beautiful district. On a day like this, it was almost impossible to tell that the fae controlled most of the area. Still, one who could feel and smell magic could sense it. It wasn't something that could be allowed to stand. The fae had their own realm to call theirs; they had no need of territory in this land.

Besides, it would help him establish his homecoming.

He not only needed to make himself known among the Islington Nest, but it would do well to be noticed in the rest of the supernatural community. Besides, there were plenty of others who disliked the fae presence. It made it an easy rallying point.

He had reached out to the witches -- particularly Daybreak -- and the werewolves. The latter had a few of wary onlookers, but he couldn't afford to have them as active enemies right now.

For the day, he was seeing the sights and looking at things from a strategic point of view. There were good places to make a bottleneck, to force the fae out into the open. Or into retreat. The difficult thing would be keeping the fae from coming back through their doors to not present a second front. As he looks around, he also keeps an eye out for any of his allies... or enemies.

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
November 23rd, morning

No territory dispute could happen and be maintained without the proper political groundwork. So, that was what Lord Coward put the finishing polish to the day before he intended to move. The local members of each supernatural sect were warned to either join the fight or stay out of it. If they sided with the fae, he'd warned, they would be considered outside of the protection of their groups and, therefore, subject to the full extent of the battle.

He continued to make his rounds at the supernatural haunts of the borough, making himself known in each location. Where there was someone of particular note, he sought them out. Otherwise, he found a fairly public place and did his best to look as approachable as possible.

As modest stillness and humility,
November 23rd, evening

The night was coming, and Lord Coward let himself begin a hunt. It wasn't the night for the fight, but such an attack was never just one night. For days, little things had been done. Small scuffles that had ranging consequences. So, tonight he let his hunger come out.

It was a good way to clear the streets or bring out the enemies.

He'd found a fae sympathiser some days ago and been tracking them for awhile. They were a human, loosely connected with the protection of a minor fae. Nothing particularly important, no, but enough to have caught his ear.

As he finished his meal and licked the wound to close it, he raised his head, setting the body down carefully. To humans, it would be a mysterious death. To the supernatural community, it was a marking of territory. At a sound, he looked in that direction, fangs still out, though they were shrinking back to normal size.

But when the blast of war blows in our ears
November 24th, midday

Now, the fight had begun.

To human eyes, there was just a bit more random conflict in the streets. Nothing to be worried about, but strange things happened. It was the result of magic at play.

There was only so much to be done in human circles, of course. In the supernatural, there were far more obvious clashes. It was to be expected, though, and Lord Coward kept his back straight. After all, he intended to be known here. Especially if he wanted to eventually control all of Tower Hamlets.

He noticed it out of the corner of his eye. Someone looking at him. Curiosity, ill intent, or positive thought all seemed the same in a split second. So, he merely offered a thin smile.

"May I help you?"

Then imitate the action of the tiger
November 24th, night

In the dark of the night, Islington made their strike. They and their allies had one more day, Coward had made clear, to make this definitive. They needed to drive the fae out, period, and it needed to be done before they thought this was just a token show.

So, that night, Coward's fangs were out, and those who were not with him were considered against him. The blood would flow freely where it needed to. Or, at least, where he felt it needed to.


(And, of course, feel free to make your own top levels for others during the claim.)

Comments

[smugfox]

"Interesting." What he thinks is more interesting is the way Eames presents the information. It was always nice to know exactly where a man stood. At least in others, Reynard didn't think as much of people having a true idea where he stood at any given time. "We do have to catch up properly, my friend." His smile is sincere enough, but the fact that he had blood on his face was just as fitting. "Where can I meet you or will I have to wait until the next time you're killing witches and vampires? It's fun, mind, I can see the appeal, but it does lack ambiance."

[falsify]

"Oh, but I am rather dashing in these situations." He flashes Reynard a smile, as if trying to use the power of a winning smile to convince him they should meet up again during another bloodbath. But Eames is definitely curious about what's brought Reynard back, it'd be nice to 'catch up' in a less hostile environment. He reaches in his inside pocket and pulls out a business card to toss his way. (It literally only has a phone number on it.) "But if you'd rather just get a drink, I'm sure I'll have some time once this situation has passed."

[smugfox]

"I won't deny it, but if you're going for a drink with me, I'm sure you'll find amble opportunity to be dashing some more, one way or the other." Reynard only glanced at the card for a moment after catching it, then tucked it away in an inside pocket of his jacket, where it stood slightly less of a chance to get bloody. "Not that I've ever found you to be anything but dashing, mind." Nothing like casual compliments on a battlefield.

[falsify]

Oh no, compliments. His one weakness. Eames raises an eyebrow, smirking a little as he glances at the man. "Why, Mr. Reynard. Are you trying to flatter me?" It's working, insofar as that Eames is always willing to receive a compliment here and there. "A more suspicious man might suspect that you wanted something."

[smugfox]

"Of course I want something." Stated ever so matter of fact, but then as he kept talking his smile widened and there was that glint to his eyes. "I want a lot of things. What of it?" Reynard tilted his head to the side, taking it in stride that they were having this discussion at a times like this. Frankly, he had had even more casual conversations even while actually in the middle of a fight, so this was leisure compared to that. "Think about it, my friend, and tell me if there's anything less satisfying than being flattered by someone who doesn't want anything."

[falsify]

Fair point, and Eames tips his head in a half-shrug to indicate he agrees. There's no game in a freely given compliment, no fun. Which raises an important question. "So what is it the Fantastic Mr Fox wants from me at this juncture?" And he gestures broadly at the street around them, "I feel it's safe to assume you're after more than the pleasure of my company."

[smugfox]

At this juncture indeed. Not the best place for conversations such as these, definitely not the best time, but that just made it that bit more exciting to stay a bit longer for exactly such a conversation anyway. "Oh, you shouldn't downplay your company so much. It might depend on how much pleasure you're really offering there." Which might just mean that he wasn't giving anything away or that he was hinting exactly what he wanted. Although, as he said, he wanted many things.

[falsify]

Well if anything, Eames' mood has been successfully lifted. The anger will come back when he has to deal with the aftermath of today, but for now the conversation has him feeling a little more like himself.

"Mm, I can offer a great many things, but you know as well as I do. Some pleasures come freely, others with a price." There's a casual levity to his tone, as if just making an observation. But it is, as much as it might be anything else, a reminder. They are what they are, after all.

[smugfox]

"I'm aware that what you're going for is a bit of a dangerous and warning edge, but just for future reference: It's sort of making you sound like a whore. Nothing wrong with that, mind." Reynard might not care about being politically correct, but he was tolerant and he certainly had come across quite a number of very respectable sex workers in his time, so there was no judgement. Just a smile, because he doubted that was quite what Eames had intended.

He stepped closer to Eames, trusting his instincts to warn him should any danger approach from behind. Even if he seemed quite focused just on holding the man's gaze. It's more interesting to focus on than the mess going down around them. "I for my part have been accused, often rightfully, of a lot of things. But no one's ever said that I don't know how to make something worth someone's while when I intend to do so. You should know that much."

[falsify]

"I was going for charming and mysterious more than anything, but I'll take it." Eames smiles back, unbothered by the critique. If anything, he seems a little fascinated by all this, giving Reynard a look up and down as the man steps closer. "But the point stands; if you're looking for an exchange, I need to know what's on the table before I make any offers."

[smugfox]

"Charming, sure." Reynard wasn't quite ready to give him 'mysterious', but he didn't argue either. No need to. "Here you're discussing exchange as if this is a business meeting, whereas all I did was to comment on how dashing you are. If it's always this much trouble to compliment you, maybe getting to a point where I can comment on your taste wouldn't be worth it." Yet even so he stepped closer still, definitely in his personal space now, making it their personal space instead. "I'm not about to go corporate. Not even for you."

[falsify]

"Everything is business, Reynard." Even if he were able to lie, Eames says it with a certainty that speaks volumes for his beliefs. Things done for any other reason are rare enough to be negligible, as far as Eames is concerned. Still. His tone is almost playful as he regards the man now fully in his personal space, not that he seems to mind it. "But I'm merely trying to ferret out your intentions."

[smugfox]

"Perhaps in your world, Eames. But you're in my world now." At least in the manner of speaking that Reynard was thinking of, which was enough to make it truth. Certainly in the moment he chose to put a hand on Eames's waist and abandon any sense of decorum as he moved completely against him and then simply kissed him. They were bloody, the fight wasn't even over yet and that made it seem like the best thing to do. At the very least it was the thing Reynard most wanted to do and schemer though he was, above all he'd always lived under the credo of doing what he wanted when he wanted. And whom he wanted too. "Ferret all you want, my friend." Reynard laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I can tell you that I intend for you to want to meet me. And soon."

[falsify]

There's a vicious edge to the way Eames kisses him back, something a mix of his current warring desires to control and to destroy. They're rare things for him to feel, but the current situation brings it out in him. But he doesn't push, a voice in his mind reminding him to stay focused on the current situation instead of the damn fox, and when Reynard speaks Eames tilts his head and gives him an amused look. Some people certainly don't change.

"Well," Eames says, pausing a moment to lick his lips, "I suppose we'll have to see once the current battle is behind us."

[smugfox]

Promising. Ever so promising. Reynard had no intention of ever changing, why would he? Life his way was always an adventure and usually a quite satisfying one at that. He watched Eames tilt his head and so maybe it was no wonder that he leaned in to kiss his neck and - more importantly - nick it. Not quite enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark. He'd just blame animal instincts and that would be close enough to the truth. He liked to smell his scent on the other fae, that was a simple fact.

"Just don't stop thinking about me for a while." No, it wasn't a modest request. Reynard knew himself too well to believe in modesty. He flashed a grin and finally stepped back, looking in the direction of the battle. "For now we might be running out of time."

[falsify]

"I make no promises," Eames shrugs and follows his gaze out toward the battle. It's only a matter of time before people start coming through this way to escape, and they'll likely be dragging the odd vampire in with them - that's something he needs to be on alert for. He takes a quick stock of his weapons, making sure everything's up to task for this last stretch, and looks up at Reynard. Serious expression back on, "I suspect it's time you made a tactical retreat."

[smugfox]

"I don't need promises, I'll just make assumptions." Seemed more self-sufficient. Reynard pulled out both of his knifes, debating whether he should wipe them clean and then deciding that it didn't matter much either way. If he was worried about getting out of here, it definitely didn't show. He'd survived far worse. "I think the weather's actually not that bad, given the season."

With that nice closure to the start of their conversation he is gone, soon around the corner and vanishing into the fray.