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

[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.