[ Active / Open ]

[knightscode]

A) REDBRIGHT RESEARCH -- OPEN

Gaining a sudden gift for telekinesis was not something Lancelot entirely expected. It has been at turns alarming, confusing and funny.

The fact that the power had kicked in before the formal letter from the Night Council hadn't helped, although he'd been a little relieved when he'd read it and realised it wasn't anything more sinister. For all he knew it might have been a curse, after all. He hadn't forgotten the one that he befallen Nancy (had she ever worked out who it was, he wondered? Or was that still a mystery?) and while such an ability didn't seem like punishment he could see how it could quickly become as such if it wanted to.

The trouble of it all is that Lancelot has no experience wielding real magic. He can run faster than others, he can punch harder, he can vault up walls but casting a spell? That is nothing Lancelot has any experience with, and moving things about with his mind is not something he particularly wants to lose control of. Lancelot tries to stay a peaceable person when he can, someone who doesn't go out of his way to take a life, and the last think he'd want to do is hurt someone without meaning to simply because his new-found powers took over.

So it is that Lancelot turns up at Redbright, the best place he knows to learn anything magical, and turns to books. He isn't the best at research -- in truth, he's quite bad at combing books for such things -- but nothing ventured, nothing gained. If it will help him make sure he doesn't toss half his kitchen around with his mind just because he burnt his breakfast then it will be all for the better.

He only wishes he'd brought a bigger cup of coffee with him, because his eyes are starting to glaze over faster than he'd like.

B) GIFT SHOPPING -- OPEN

Why Lancelot thought going shopping on a weekend in December was a good idea remains a mystery, but the fact of the matter is that he has. He hasn't bought any gifts yet, and even devoid of ideas as he is Lancelot knows he has to try. Coffee in hand, and dog safely at home where she won't be too worried by the crowds, Lancelot braves the masses and tries desperately to work out what people might even like.

By lunchtime his energy is beginning to flag, and by the afternoon he's quite certain if another person bumps him out of the way he's liable to perform a citizen's arrest.

He's bought at least one gift, made a few mental notes to compare prices on others and now his feet are starting to hurt and he'd really like to sit down, if he can manage to find somewhere quiet. It's starting to feel borderline impossible, but there has to be somewhere in this place he can get himself a drink and something to eat which isn't packed already. He sighs in irritation, dodges out of the way of a particularly large buggy with large bags hanging off it and vows to do the rest of his shopping online. As much as he likes supporting local shops the people using them really can be terrible.

Steeling himself he makes another attempt to duck his way through the crowds and find himself a coffee shop or a bench. Either would work at this point, he isn't fussed.

C) REPORT -- CLOSED TO SYLVIA

Across Sylvia's desk, toward the end of November, will come a sealed file from Lancelot. It's stamped with an official Night Council marking, and he brings it personally -- he needs to be sure, after all, that it does not get even a glance from the wrong person.

30th November 2015 FAO: SYLVIA REDBRIGHT, PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL As of the 27th of November Faolan O'Neill officially returned from his time within the Shadow Coven. His new position within Hillingdon made it difficult for him to keep a low profile, and I believe this was for the best both for his own safety and for the integrity of the Night Council as a public outing would be damaging. His status is better used within the Night Council rather than hidden with risk of reprisal. Below is the combined sum of the information learned. Known Midnight Supporters. Listed members of the Shadow Coven have been confirmed. Nancy Fagin, 18 years old, is a blood worker and streetwalker. Her sentiment is as follows: "It's not about wanting to do dark, evil things. It's about the freedom to be able to, should we need to." Kenzi Malikov is also Shadow Coven. Faolan observed her and Abigail setting up wards and protective magic around their designated home, although the exact spells were unknown to him. They remain secretive, and Guardians remain of the opinion further investigation may prove similarly ineffective. Alice Liddell, exact age unknown but young enough to be studying, is confirmed as a member of Midnight. Has been observed associating with Shadow Coven, Kenzi Malikov specifically. Appears unstable, prone to nerves, violence and possible hallucinations. Njoki Rainmaker, exact association with Midnight unknown. Arrived in town a few months back, has no strong connections yet to the above mentioned girls. Faolan acquired one of her business cards, which advertises for, "Hoodoo & Conjure / Hands Made, Tricks Crossed, / Uncrossed & Things Done". Sentiment. In conversation with members of Circle Midnight several common opinions were ascertained. They expressed a clear doubt of the neutrality of the Night Council and its leadership, citing Barnet as examples of bias and the following memorial as Daybreak witches ‘pretending’ to mourn their Midnight sisters. The belief that the Mother of Witches does not 'really care' is a clear one, that Circle Midnight are in some way oppressed and that Daybreak has a degree of protection. Members are focused on protecting themselves and their own, quickly closing ranks when threatened. Paranoia and recklessness have been observed, suggesting that recent events have increased the feeling they are threatened. This has been especially observed in the member Kenzi Malikov. Members associate freely with Vampires and Fae alike, although the former appears to be a mixed association. Although some work closely with them others, notably Kenzi and Alice, harbour poor feeling toward them. A persuasive attempt with Nancy Fagin that attacking the Night Council and Mother of Witches will not gain understanding, instead 'prove' they cannot be trusted, has been declared 'heard'. General Conclusions and Observations. Members of Circle Midnight tend toward the younger age range, with late teens to early twenties seeming common. Members have often displayed a degree of instability in their personal lives, both past and present. Members display strong opinions, but not of a malicious or destructive nature. Members desire for the 'freedom' to make their own mistakes. Members are secretive and slow to trust strangers during current tensions, making private investigation ineffective when compared to open approaches. When approached candidly, members respond well to being listened to and reassured. LANCELOT DULAC GUARDIAN, NIGHT COUNCIL

C) HOMECOMING -- CLOSED TO FAOLAN

Lancelot is fussing. He's aware he's fussing, and that he should take it easy, but it's been a while since he's really been able to spend time with Faolan and he's pleased to have the man back.

So he's fussing, checking on the food he's cooking and that the bathroom has clean towels -- that all his mess is cleared away and that there are sheets and blankets and things ready for the futon when Faolan wants to turn in. Lancelot fully expects Faolan to be exhausted, after all, and grateful for somewhere safe to be able to hide -- for a given value of safe.

Lily barks a short alert at the sound of the doorbell and a few seconds later Lancelot is opening it, greeting Faolan in a flurry of smiles and fluffy white animal enthusiastically bouncing beside him. He's dressed down at this time of night, faded jeans and a loose v-neck -- hair a little mussed from running his fingers through it as he works.

"Come in, please!" he says quickly -- and stands aside to let Faolan bring in his things before he assaults him further. The extractor fan is whirring in the kitchen, signalling food at some point, and Lily dances along by Faolan's feet as he moves -- bouncing as she fights down the enthusiastic urge to jump up at him. "Put your things anywhere you want. I've tried to make a little space. Are you hungry? I've started some food but it can keep or wait if need be. I just wasn't sure if you'd have eaten before or on the way over, so..."

Comments

HOMECOMING

[reticence]

Faolan adjusts his bag on his shoulder as he steps up to Lancelot's flat. He is tired, truth be told, but the promise of some decent, honest company is doing wonders to buoy his energy and his spirits both. He'd taken the time to tie up a few loose ends at Hillingdon -- anyone who needed him could find him on his mobile. And of course his position as Kenzi's bodyguard had come to a close. It'd taken him a moment to stop by his own place and grab some things for the few nights he'd been invited to stay, but it had almost been on the way, considering.

He bends to greet Lily, keeping a hand bracing his bag on his shoulder as he uses his free one to smooth across her face and scratch behind her ears in his own brand of hello. Knowing it's better to give her something than ignore her and keep her bouncing after him. "Thanks," he says, somewhat awkwardly. Lancelot really is fussing, but he's grateful for it, really. He's missed this. He's missed being able to just be himself, for whether it's with Kenzi or the others at Hillingdon, most of the time he's had to put on an act, play a part that isn't truly him. And in truth, he'd missed Lancelot himself.

"And no, I haven't eaten. Just coffee." He quirks something of a smile at the other man as he shifts in place slightly. "I had a feeling you might be cooking. Didn't want to ruin it."

[knightscode]

He wrinkles his nose at Faolan, as if to question his idea of ruining things by eating, and reaches to gently persuade Lily to give Faolan space.

She doesn't want to give him space, she wants to fuss too! She knows Faolan! She hasn't seen him in forever!

"It's just some cazuela, nothing complicated. It should warm you up, at least. Please --"

Lancelot waves him in further, ducking back into the kitchen to quickly check the temperature on things and make sure nothing is about to over-boil.

"Can I get you a drink? There's still the rum left, or you can have some plain coke, ginger beer, tea, hot chocolate..."

He trails off with a shrug, opening his fridge to double check if he'd missed anything else he could offer.

[reticence]

"Cazuela," Faolan repeats, not understand what that could mean at all, save that the smells wafting out from the kitchen beyond seem to smell amazing. He glances at Lancelot to see if he will give him more of an explanation, but he supposed that he'll find out regardless. Anyway, he's not picky, and anything homemade for him will be good in his books.

He drops his bag where he can find the space and follows Lancelot into the kitchen, wandering to the table and making himself comfortable as he has done several times before. This time needing little prompting from Lancelot himself as he sheds his jacket and sinks into a chair there. A little bemused at all the options that the other man is rattling off for him. "Water?" he asks. "If you've got it," he adds, with the quirk of a smile. He'll probably beg a coffee off of him later, but he's too tired to drink and hold a conversation at the same time, and that's saying something.

[knightscode]

"Water I can do," he says, and pulls the filter jug from the fridge -- reaches for a glass to bring over and sets it down on a coaster for Faolan before pouring some out.

"Cazuela is... mmm, it means like a big cooking pot. In South America we use to mean something... like a broth or stew? You cook beef, potato, pumpkin, beans, carrots -- everything together in a pot and reduce it a little. You can make it with chicken or pork too -- it's a little differently in Peru or Puerto Rico. All a little different, we call it all Cazuela. It's something a lot of people eat, because... it's easy, good food."

[reticence]

"South American. Well, it sounds good," Faolan says, eyeing the pot on the stove as he does. "Smells good too, even," he adds, with a quirking smile as he does. "Sounds like a Stobhach Gaelach, really. No one can really agree what's in one of those, either. No doubt 'whatever you've got'. But I've no doubt that the flavors are different, all things considered." South American and Irish, they'd have to be pretty far from each other, even if the concept and even some of the ingredients are the same. It's all in the flavoring, no doubt, which has to be different from what he's familiar with.

He reaches for the water glass, taking a few sips before setting it down again. "I hope it isn't too much trouble," he says, after a moment, gesturing around him at the flat. Not just the kitchen, but everything. "Having me here, I mean," he specifies again. All this fussing, he wonders if maybe it is, a little, not quite understanding where it's coming from.

[knightscode]

Stobhach Gaelach? Lancelot wrinkles his nose a little, curious and confused both.

"I have no idea what that is."

He shrugs, quirks a smile and takes the jug back to the fridge to set back.

"And you are no trouble, I assure you. We missed you! Didn't we, Lils?" Lily swings her tail happily, fussing between the two of them as Lancelot checks on the food he's cooking again. "You must be tired, though, so I'm happy to have you here. Means I can keep an eye on you, mmm? And we can catch up properly!"

[reticence]

Faolan lets out the huff of a laugh at Lancelot's honesty, before shrugging slightly himself. "Irish Stew," he explains. "It's just what we called it whenever I had it, I suppose." And that's about as much as as he's comfortable talking about home, to be true.

He feels as though the other man has kept something of the tone that he'd used to address Lily with when he'd continued talking to him, but he isn't complaining (though he does feel a little like rolling over to have his belly rubbed for it). He smiles slightly at the other man nonetheless, and holds his hand out for Lily to come and be petted, if she likes. "Catching up properly. I'd like that. Means I don't have to worry about much of anything either, with you keeping an eye on me, now does it?" he asks, wryly.

REPORT

[brightwitch]

Sylvia opens the file and reads the report in silence while Lancelot waits. So the Midnight witches are young, reckless and foolish. No surprises there. She will have to take the time to read it in more detail later and ponder over the conclusions. For now, however, she looks up at Lancelot.

"Thank you for this. It's a comprehensive summary. I will share this at the next Night Council meeting and we'll discuss next steps." There's a short pause, as she tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear. "Before you go, I'd like to ask your opinion on one more thing. What do you think we should do to bring these witches back to Daybreak?"

[knightscode]

Lancelot studies Sylvia a moment in silence, hands neatly behind his back. Cautious, because he is not entirely sure where his limits are. How honestly he may speak, and how much she might take offence. He has, after all, just handed her a report which sums up why people don't like her.

"May I speak freely?" he hedges, as much as a gentle warning that his words might not be 'oh well they love you already so just offer them chocolate'.

[brightwitch]

She steeples her fingers together. "Yes, of course."

She wants to hear what he has to say. The report is carefully worded to sound descriptive rather than prescriptive, but while it skirts around offering any recommendations, they are implied. Lancelot has been out there talking to Midnight witches. He cannot have come away from that experience without an opinion.

[knightscode]

He takes a slow breath, tilts his head as he tries to find the right words.

"They are young," he says finally, "and you will not frighten people this young into submission. The harder you try, the more they will fight back. Neither will you... appeal well on grounds of logic. You have made yourself a figurehead of law, of things they do not like. They have chosen to believe you do not care for them, and everything you do will only ground that and prove it to them. Yet... at heart young people only want to be reassured, sympathised with, to believe they have a voice and are heard. When I sat with Nancy she was not a... rebellious witch, she was just a young girl. Someone who likes chocolate, was fond of my dog, who wanted to be allowed to do as she pleased. I think everyone does at that age. It will be an uphill battle for them to believe you anything but false, but... it might be worth trying to hear them out. Even if it goes nowhere, it will feel to them like they have gained something. If you give them a stage, it is at least a stage you control."

[brightwitch]

Her lips thin. Nothing he says is particularly surprising, but the solution he proposes is not a solution, it's only a start. And it has to lead somewhere if it's going to be worth doing.

Eventually, she smiles. "You have just described the woes of every parent. The title 'Mother' sometimes feels far too appropriate. I know a mother in absolute despair because her teenage son has developed a drug addiction. He may well – let me see..." Here she pauses to read from the report: "Desire to have the freedom to make his own mistakes. But every mistake has consequences. Will they ever understand that?"

That has to be the end goal: to make them understand that Daybreak operates as it does for their own protection. Freedom has to be balanced with responsibility. Otherwise anarchy would reign.

[knightscode]

"Once they have made the mistake and felt their own consequences, perhaps. But it has to be their own, otherwise they will only blame you for it. If you force their hand it will always be you at fault."

Lancelot hesitates, inclines his head fractionally.

"Forgive me, I know it is perhaps not a solution enacted quickly. Yet I do not think there is one. Not while both sides value different things. I do not think they wish for bloodshed, they do not want to lose more of their own any more than we do, but... they have not seen an alternative. They need to feel recognised, to feel they are not being dismissed. If you can make them feel that way, then you will have won the first battle. You will dull the edges of their blades. Even if..." and here he shrugs, flickers a more wry smile. "Even if it is a fiction, Miss Redbright, the simple idea that they may have gotten through to you will catch them off guard. It is all they want."

Gift shopping

[acrookedchild]

"People," Abigail mutters under her breath as she dodges the same buggy. She may or may not have shot a sympathetic glance at the other man who'd avoided it. There's a bit of a sigh as she steps aside.

Finding gifts was hard enough. She had no idea what most of her coven would like, and they're just about all the family she has. Really, it surprises her at times to realise she even has a family of any kind.

"It's a madhouse."

[knightscode]

Abigail Widdowson is not someone who Lancelot had expected to bump into. Especially not while out shopping. He recognises her from the Harvest Festival -- for he had been there, encouraging Faolan to take part, and Abigail had made rather an impact. He smiles at her, starts as he realises they're about to be run over by another mass of people and gently touches a hand to her arm to warn her of the three-child buggy about to plough past. If she's sensitive to such things she can probably feel the fae magic coursing through him, bright and summery despite the winter weather.

"I should have expect it would be this way, but I suppose I had hope I might miss the rush. You're... forgive me, Miss Widdowson isn't it?"

[acrookedchild]

At this point, Abigail is somewhat used to being recognised. Witches of both Circles can pick her out now, which is far more than anyone in high society knowing who she is ever was. So, she smiles a little.

"Please," she says, offering her hand. "It's Abigail. I'm afraid I don't know your name." She gives a sheepish smile. "I'm really sorry if I'm just not remembering."

[knightscode]

"No! No, good lord, forgive me we have not met -- I suppose we've just walked in the same circles. You are a little more recognisable than I am, your reputation proceeds you."

He quirks a smile at her and takes her hand, dips his head fractionally.

"Lancelot Dulac. Guardian for the Night Council, since I suppose you will be curious, although at the moment I'm more concerned about guarding myself from angry shoppers than much else."

[acrookedchild]

"A Guardian." Almost immediately, her expression changes. Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, and she cocks her head a bit. After all, she's seen guardians in action before. She remembers Barnet all too well when Sylvia extended the Institute's reach.

Then, remembering herself, she says, calmly, "I hope you'll forgive me if I don't seem... happy to meet you."

[knightscode]

Lancelot knows this look. It's the same look he saw on Nancy when he told her, and it's beginning to both tire and frustrate him internally. He considers her a moment, offers a small smile finally.

"You know," he says softly, "I'm beginning to think a lot of people have a very different idea of what my job should be than I do. You've no reason to be scared of me, Abigail, no more than you need to be afraid of a Police Officer if you haven't just broken a law."

He releases her, shifts his grip on his lone bag as he thinks.

"Will you have coffee with me? I'll pay, and you can say as little or as much as you like. I'd just rather listen to you than just rumours, I'm sure you know there's plenty of those."

His lips quirk up into something more wry, something knowing. After all, Abigail looking this way tells him she's probably thinking of Sylvia. Thinking of how he reports to her. Yet Lancelot deals in facts, not gossip, and he'd rather keep it that way.

Gift shopping!

[growsowngoats]

Siobhan has mixed feelings about Christmas. The whole religious aspect of it rubs her the wrong way, but at the same time how can she not enjoy all the pretty lights and the general spirit of good will that tends to come along with it?

When part of your income is begging, it also doesn't hurt that people tend to be more willing to open up their wallets around the holidays too.

There is also of course the giant cloud of stress that descends over humanity when the time comes to buy presents, something that she really wishes that everyone could just calm down about because surely the world won't end if we just all dial down our materialism a tad and calm down.

It would seem that her darling dear Lancelot is feeling something similar at the moment, if she is judging the emotional input suddenly sneaking up on her from behind and making her turn.

She's met him a few times now, so she can recognize his own particular emotional signature. She smiles as she winds through the crowd, tracking it like a cheerful little bloodhound until she catches sight of him.

"Lancelot!"

[knightscode]

He turns at the sound of his name, brightens at the sight of her immediately.

"Siobhan!" he greats, and moves instinctively closer to her -- "I'm surprised to see you out in the chaos. Are you out looking for things too?"

Not that he expects her to be buying much on her limited income, but she'd said she'd found an apprenticeship hadn't she?

[growsowngoats]

She reaches out to briefly take his hand and give it a squeeze as a gesture of greeting.

"It's not super comfortable out here, no."

SO MANY FEELINGS.

"I make most of the gifts I give people, I'm just out to pass some time."

[knightscode]

Lancelot grimaces in sympathy at that, squeezes her hand gently in answer and tilts his head slightly toward the exit.

"Why don't we go somewhere quieter, then? Get some tea, coffee, hot chocolate -- whatever you like. Something to warm us up."

Since the weather may be reasonably mild for winter but it's still grey and miserable and raining, which makes it feel cold enough.

[growsowngoats]

It really is strange how temperatures that she would have gladly endured during warmer seasons now maker hed wrap herself in many layers of clothing. It's as if the cold seeps into you even though it's actually not even that cold.

"I wouldn't want to distract you if you have errands to run."

Even if she does enjoy his company a lot and it would be great to sit down and talk for a bit.

[knightscode]

"You're not distracting me, I promise. I needed a break anyway, too many people for my own taste as well. Come on. I know a good place."

He reaches out a hand to gently touch her arm, trying to guide her with him away from the throngs of people toward the exit.

"Somewhere which does very good hot chocolate and will make you a fresh waffle to have with toppings."

Which, he somehow suspects from his general impression of Siobhan, is something that will appeal to her. Lots of sweetness.