[ 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

[reticence]

Faolan shrugs, picking a piece off of his bread to stick it in the broth and soak some of it up, searching for the right response as he does. Knowing that it's pretty obvious that he's stalling. Being difficult. But what does he say? Every reason he can think of mentioning sounds not only like an excuse, but depressing at that. The main reason of course is that it's been a long time since anyone else has bothered or cared, and celebrating by himself hardly holds appeal for him.

"Something like that," he says at last, raising the soaked bread to his mouth, excusing himself from having to explain further -- for the moment at least.

[knightscode]

"Worried it might ruin your tough guy image?"

He lofts an eyebrow, smirks a little as begins to cut up a little piece of meat. Not that much cutting is needed, it's been cooked in the stew after all.

"I admit, I'm not fond of making it all a big thing myself. Too uncomfortable. But... I think it's a nice excuse to have fun. I hope you don't mind...?" Lancelot wrinkles his nose a little at Faolan, as if preparing to wince if the man says he does. "I promise there isn't a secret surprise party about to launch itself out of my bedroom. There isn't enough room for one thing, and Lily doesn't like balloons."

[reticence]

Faolan raises his head to give Lancelot something of a deadpan at his little joke. Tough guy image indeed. He huffs out a breath, shifting slightly in his chair again, before dunking some more bread to eat. No balloons is good. No surprise party is better than good. But it isn't Lancelot's fault that he hasn't celebrated before now, and in all honesty, he doesn't mind it. So he takes in a breath, poking around at his food for a moment as he finds the right thing to say.

"I don't mind," he says. "I just wasn't expecting it. It has nothing to do with my 'image'," he adds, giving the other man another look, before shrugging and returning his gaze to his bowl. "I just. Haven't had the opportunity, I guess." There. A better way of putting it than stating the truth.

[knightscode]

"Good! Then you won't mind that there's cake too."

Lancelog grins at that, a little sheepish -- aware that he had somewhat arranged said cake before asking if Faolan was okay with it. Still, a cake is just a cake -- he could have somehow claimed it wasn't specifically for Faolan's birthday if the man had objected too fiercely.

"Since it's already in the fridge," he goes on, "and I can't eat it alone, and Lily certainly can't have any since chocolate isn't good for dogs..."

[reticence]

Faolan raises his eyebrows at the other man for a moment, but can't help letting out the huff of a laugh as well. Asking all those questions... Lancelot had been planning this from the start. There's something about the thought of him going through that much effort on his account, when he really didn't have to, that makes Faolan feel. Odd. But not in a bad way. Warm. Happy. And combined with the way that his body had reacted moments earlier. Well, it's confusing at best. But he's certainly not complaining.

"You," he says, shaking his head and setting the bread aside to reach for his spoon to try some of the soup itself now. "How could I refuse a cake? How could I refuse any of this, even if I hadn't just come off of the assignment that I did?" He shakes his head again, going quiet for a moment, poking at a potato as he tries to work out how best to express himself again. "I'm. I won't begin to imagine what got into your head, to do all this. For me. But thank you." He huffs out another breath. "I feel like I just keep owing you more and more..."

[knightscode]

"You don't owe me a thing," Lancelot chides, "I have done this because you are my friend. Because I knew you'd probably not had a chance with your assignment, and because you deserved a little downtime. If you've enjoyed it at all then I have done my job. Now, try eating your rather than poking it. Even better that way, I promise you."

He lofts an eyebrow at Faolan, lets his expression settle into a warm smile before going back to working his way through his food.

"Still have to eat this first before the cake comes out."

[reticence]

Faolan raises his eyebrows sat the other man chiding him like that. He has half a mind to make a joke about Lancelot's parenting skills, but considering how his body was still reacting slightly to the man's earlier touch and sudden closeness... Better not create mixed signals for himself.

"Sir, yes, sir," he says instead, and cuts apart the potato he's been poking at to finally eat at last. It's still rather hot, but not too much, and flavored just right from the broth. If Lancelot actually does want him to eat his fill, it certainly won't be hard to do, all things considered. The harder part will be knowing when to stop, especially since there's dessert to come.

[knightscode]

"As nice as titles are they aren't required."

Lancelot sets down his fork and sits back for a moment, breaking a piece of bread in half and chewing as he regards Faolan curiously.

"So, are you going to tell me how things went?"

Faolan's mission, that is. He might not want to talk about it, of course, and Lancelot could understand if he needed to decompress a bit first -- but still. He's curious, too.

[reticence]

Faolan shrugs slightly, using the excuse that he's eating not to answer for a few moments. How much does he say, here? He should probably wait for the full story after they're finished. He has a feeling Lancelot isn't going to be happy about it one way or the other, and he's not entirely certain whether he'll be happy with him for it either for that matter.

"I was a bodyguard," he says, after he's given himself enough time to stall and any more would be a little too obvious. "For the most part all she needed me there for was making sure she or her friends got home safe on any given night, or that the right people got the right message to keep well enough away." He shrugs again.

[knightscode]

"I suppose I should be glad you didn't have to bodyguard her from me. I might have had to go easy on you."

He flickers a wry smile, amused by his own joke, and feeds himself a little more before going on.

"Nothing much exciting happened then, I take it? No life-changing discoveries, daring adventures, perilous life or death situations?"

He'd really rather the answer was no, in truth, because although Faolan may be sat in front of him the thought of him being in trouble while Lancelot couldn't do anything to help is one that doesn't sit comfortably.

[reticence]

Faolan shrugs slightly. There's part of him that doesn't want to worry the other man, knowing that he will and there's nothing he can do about that. But he's already done the best he can to make sure everything's taken care of, and. Well. He doesn't want to lie to him. Not here, not now, not even when he'd rather be asked these questions after their meal was over.

"There was... A situation. I handled it. But it gave me the excuse I was looking for to leave," Faolan glances up at the other man from where he had been fixated on his stew, and wills him to let it go for now. "I can tell you about it later," he offers, somewhat apologetically, "I wouldn't want the food to get cold." A poor excuse if ever there was one, but hopefully Lancelot will take it. Admitting to much more will put him in pretty dangerous waters, all things considered.

[knightscode]

'A situation', he says, and Lance lofts an eyebrow as he feeds himself a little more food. Well, isn't that suitably vague. He supposes Faolan is here in one piece, so it can't have been too disastrous, but still. The way he's being delicate about it makes it a little suspicious.

"Well, I suppose I'm glad you got out of it all right and that it gave you an excuse." Although the faint lines of concern are already creeping into Lancelot's expression. He reaches past Faolan to grab some some of the beets, serves himself a little before setting them back down. "You're right, though, probably better we eat first before you give me stomach ulcers."

[reticence]

Faolan glances across at Lancelot warily, but he's grateful that the other man's let it drop for now. He wouldn't know how else to explain himself but dropping the full truth on him, and judging by the frown lines appearing on his face as it stands, he'd really rather not ruin the meal by doing so. He reaches across the table to serve himself some beets as well, not quite certain how to incorporate the rest of the food into the meal so following Lancelot's lead as he does.

"After we're finished eating," he promises. "I'll tell you everything then," he promises. He really isn't looking to hide this from Lancelot. Not forever at least. But he isn't looking forward to telling him about it either. He tries to turn the conversation back on the other man instead. "How have you been yourself?" Knowing he asked that the last time they spoke for any length of time, but seeing as how that was weeks ago, he figures he's allowed to ask again.

[knightscode]

"Fine! Well, mostly, had a few strange adventures -- well timed job on your part, you missed out on them. Got lost in the other realm -- no damage, mostly confused."

He shrugs, feeding himself a little more food as he thinks.

"I think that was the worst of it. Things have been stirring up a little politically, but that hasn't changed anything for us yet. Lily, sit."

She twitches her ears at the reprimand, having inched closer to Lancelot to stick her nose into his lap, and sits finally -- looking over to Faolan as if for support. Why no food for dogs? This is the worst fate.

[reticence]

Faolan cuts off a few bites himself, blowing across the food softly to make certain that it's cool enough to eat before raising it to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he listens to Lancelot talk. Glancing down at Lily as Lancelot addresses her, before back up at the other man. Soon, Lily, you will get your food soon. Though you must be patient and sit through their dinner first, alas.

"Lost in the other realm?" he asks, raising his eyebrows slightly. Knowing that Lancelot had been stolen away into the other realm as a child -- was there really no damage? Or is he just using one of Faolan's own tricks on him, in an attempt to keep him from worrying. He'll get to the politics in a moment, let's focus on this for now. If he can get away with it, at least.

[knightscode]

Lancelot wrinkles his nose at that, shrugs a little.

"It's... a fae hobby, I suppose, for want of a better word? Not exactly a tradition, a... common game, perhaps?" He squints, trying to think of a way to word it. "Lead people into the other realm and... play out an elaborate game of make believe. Every takes on a role, helps or hinders people trying to get out. Like being trapped in a flashmob, perhaps. Forgive me if I'm not explaining all that well... It is only -- well, no physical harm is done to anyone. I suppose I had an advantage in that I knew what was happening, to a degree. Although that didn't get me out much faster."

[reticence]

Faolan continues eating, though he narrows his eyes slightly at the description that the other man is giving him. There's no physical harm done, no, but that doesn't mean that they aren't toying with people. Using their magic and other peoples' susceptibility to it for their own amusement. To have been stolen away and used as a pawn in their game? No, it's best that he'd escaped that fate, as even the fact that Lancelot hadn't sits ill with him.

"You're explaining it well enough," he responds. Well enough for him to obviously not be happy about the sound of it. "You're alright, though? I mean. It can't have been for that long...?" He hopes not, at least.

[knightscode]

"Less than a day," he confirms, "It...."

He blows out a slow breath, absently poking at his food a moment to give himself time to think before feeding himself more.

"They'd glamoured everything, so it didn't even look or feel like the Other Realm. I didn't recognise them, they didn't recognise me. It was just like a bad fancy dress party I'd been taken to by force."

And Lancelot isn't the best with fancy dress on a good day, let alone by force in a place he doesn't want to be.

[reticence]

Faolan eases slightly at the other man's words. Fancy dress parties were difficult enough to deal with, but they're better than the possibilities that had been running through Faolan's head instead. He's heard stories about the fae and their senses of humor. He wouldn't have put it past them to have done more sinister things for a bit of fun.

He takes a few more bites of his food. "It seems a pretty elaborate setup, for a bit of fun to have at someone else's expense," he concludes, after a moment's thought. "But not beyond them, all things considered." He gives Lancelot a long, searching look, trying to determine if there isn't more that he isn't telling him, but he can't seem to find anything so he lets it go.

"So, what sort of thing did they put you up to, if you're telling me that it wasn't anything to worry about?" he asks.

[knightscode]

"Had me playing at mazes, being a soldier, riddles."

Lancelot hesitates, sets down his knife and fork to take a sip of his drink.

"When you're among court fae it feels... as if you are dreaming. Things have a certain... logic to them. Forgive me, it's difficult to describe if you have not felt it... yet it is as if your mind forgets to panic. You feel compelled to... simply go along with things, as if they make perfect sense even when they clearly make none at all."

[reticence]

Faolan regards him closely, watching him carefully as he tries to explain himself to him. The idea of it all confuses him, yes. Being in a situation that seems completely ridiculous but being glamoured into believing this is the way things are regardless. Faolan has ever been in control of his own mind, and the idea otherwise is unnerving, to say the least.

A question comes to mind, and the words are out of his mouth before he has a chance to stop himself. "You've experienced this sort of thing before, though, yeah? You'd said..." He trails off slightly, realizing he's asked Lancelot about memories that, if he remembers them at all, might not be all that pleasant, all things considered.

[knightscode]

"I have," Lancelot says, although there's a hint of discomfort now. "Although my memories are still... hazy. Enough there that I have a sense, yet... low on detail."

He shrugs, sets down his drink again after a moment and lowers his eyes to his food. It's something he feels peculiarly self-conscious about, and Lancelot is at somewhat of a loss for exactly why. It's just an awkward, vulnerable sort feeling. Like a raw nerve he's wary of irritating in case it hurts.

[reticence]

Faolan understands that he's misstepped even before Lancelot has answered, and has the decency to look somewhat sheepish about it. Shifting awkwardly in his seat as he does, glancing down at the food in front of him before across at the man at the table beside him.

"I'm sorry," he says, softly. "I didn't mean..." He trails off, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I hadn't meant to ask you that. Not like that." He knows that it isn't the easiest thing for Lancelot to talk about. He understands that Lancelot doesn't particularly like to talk about it, for that matter. Not with the way he's reacting here, at least.

Of course, recognizing that he's misstepped doesn't mean that Faolan knows how to back himself out of this situation. Which would have been useful right about now...

[knightscode]

"You did," Lancelot corrects, "or you wouldn't have asked. It's fine. There's no harm in being curious, I'm not offended."

He shrugs, serves himself a little extra of the beets before starting to eat the last of his food.

"The pot should still be warm enough if you want some more," he adds, holding out want hand to it after a moment to double check. "Or else there's still cake to go if you have room."

[reticence]

Faolan fights off a wince at the response. Of course he had meant to ask it -- he just hasn't meant to remind the other man of awkward memories. Bad memories. And unfortunately for him, he couldn't do one without the other, a fact he hadn't remembered until it was too late.

With nothing to say that might try and get this thought across without furthering the subject, when Lancelot clearly wants it dropped, Faolan lets it go, picking up his utensils to start eating again. "I'd better not have more if you're planning a dessert," he says. He takes a few more bites of food, hesitating as he tries to pick their conversation up again, to break this awkward pause, when finally he settles on, "I've had a few months away, you'll remember. The Midnight witches didn't feed me near as well as you do."