undergrounds | HAVERING CLAIM

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HAVERING CLAIM

DECEMBER 5-7th; ANYTIME

The lead up to the claim is deceptively quiet. Although he already knows that most of the would-be interested parties will have their eyes on Croydon come the 8th, Finnick still doesn't want to attract any undue attention. He's quiet as he pokes around the borough, identifying places where he and his group might visit and checking for any large gatherings of Daybreak witches or vampires that might resist them. He's unarmed while he does this, knowing that a trident would attract all that undue attention he doesn't want, so he's ready to open a door and flee in the face of trouble.

DECEMBER 8TH; NIGHT

When it's time, Finnick gathers his group and they start in the south of Havering, opening doors for allies to walk in and out of as they start visiting supernatural communities in the borough. They stop in any known meeting places along with anywhere they can sense a significant magical presence - a witch or two in an apartment won't draw them, but a dozen werewolves camped out in some basement brings them knocking. Every time they meet with someone, Finnick gently explains the situation: the fae are claiming this territory and nothing has to change, as long as no one tries to attack any fae.

The trident strapped to Finnick's back is ever present - a quiet threat of what may happen if anyone tries to object. He slips in and out of shadows when there are humans present so as not to draw attention, but in the empty streets he walks freely, towing his group behind him or letting them spread throughout the borough without him. He's mostly here to oversee, after all, and he'll appear at a moment's notice if any of his Seelie fae are attacked.

DECEMBER 9TH; MORNING/MID-DAY

Finnick is a man of his word, and come morning little has changed in the territory. Fae have started moving in (many pre-emptively from Croydon), and a number of doors have been left open for the faery folk to walk freely in and out of the Other Realm. Finnick has found himself a spot near the window of a cafe, still easily found by any fae that may need him, but he's also making sure he's present in case any other factions decide they don't like what's happened. He stays there a few hours, ordering a couple coffees and a sandwich once lunchtime comes around. Waiting for signs of trouble and news of Croydon.

[OOC: As discussed, this is a quiet claim because of the hand-off happening the same night in Croydon, but if you want to make a top-level for yourself go ahead! Alternatively hit me up on plurk or on the plotting post if you want a more specific prompt!]

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Finnick comes home in the early hours of the morning, quiet as he walks into his apartment and locks the door behind him. His trident has been stowed in the Other Realm already and he's ready to relax - so ready that there's a smile on his face. This feels significant for him, personally. Like it's a first step toward something better for him, something beyond the fresh memories of pain and fear and every other awful emotion he hadn't known could be felt so sharply several decades ago.

He told Annie to go home before him. As they were approaching the north border of the territory having only met a little resistance, Finnick started dismissing his fae followers and told Annie to go as well, confident that they could finish it with reduced force. He was determined to see it through to the end, but that didn't mean he had to make everyone fatigued. So he's quiet and doesn't turn on any lights as he walks into the apartment, just in case she came here and she's already asleep, but secretly he hopes she's awake so he can tell her about this elated feeling in his chest. This relief. He wants to share it.

Annie had already told her grandmother she wouldn't be home that night. Something her grandmother was used to, but where Annie was concerned, she did always want to know where she was. So Annie would tell her, though leave out some of the details- like the Havering takeover and how she was walking side-by-side with Finnick, thus putting her in a vulnerable position. As far as her grandmother knew, she was just spending the night with Finnick.

She'd protested, when he'd sent her home, but nearly asleep on her feet, she'd listened and taken the tube back to his flat. Annie let herself in with her spare key, and settled herself down on the couch to wait for him. Well, it took a little longer than she'd hoped, and by the time the door opens, Annie is mostly-asleep on the couch, still wearing her clothing from that night, curled up under a large throw.

Her feet are bare, her toes just peaking out, and the rush of cold-air from the hall has her stirring in the dark. She shifts, opening her eyes to see the light from the hall illuminating a familiar shape. "F-finnick?" she says, stifling a yawn. "You're back!" She sits up, smiling a sleepy smile as she looks on at him. Trident is gone, which only meant good things.

At least she'd had the good sense to remove the knives she favored as a weapon from her person, before curling up. They rested on the table, next to the iron bracelets she'd taken off as a good-will gesture towards the fae for their adventure that day. "Are you okay? Hungry? I can make you something." Annie, as luck would have it, was quite the cook.

Finnick smiles warmly as he wanders over and sits next to her on the couch. He had his suspicions that she'd try to wait up for him, which he took into account when she was resisting the whole idea of leaving. He liked the idea of her waiting up much more than wandering London's strets half asleep looking for trouble, so he had insisted. It was certainly for the best. "No, no, it's fine," he tells her as he passes a hand over her hair. It's a calming gesture for her and for himself, but for now it's just a reminder to enjoy the moment.

"It's done," he says, "at least for tonight. We had no more trouble after you left. Havering belongs to the fae now."

"because I'd make you something to eat, if you'd like." She sits up in order to better curl up next to him. He was warm, and felt more like home than her grandmother's flat ever would, though she'd never say it out-loud. The very idea turned her stomach, that someone could be more her home than her family. But... Finnick.

Annie nuzzles him just slightly in appreciation of the gesture. "Congratulations, Finnick." A quick press of her lips against his neck. "I'm so happy for you." she meant it, reaching for his other hand to hold.

Finnick leans into her, wrapping an arm around her waist and running his thumb over her knuckles. “It feels good, to have done something. I always thought it would be better to stay out of it, so that I wouldn't have to deal with…”

He trails off with a sigh, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss to her hair. “I only hope it'll stick.”

Annie hums softly, in acknowledgement that she's heard what he's saying. Or, rather, isn't saying. She closes her eyes again, leaning up against his chest. "You did well," she promises. "and if it doesn't stick, it's not your fault." Because sometimes, she knew he needed to be reminded of that as much as she did.

"Because you've done a whole lot more than other fae."

He ponders that as he rests his head against hers, and he can feel himself relaxing with her in his arms. "I wouldn't say that," he says lightly, "it's only that I care more than some about being able to come to this realm, to live here without fear."

He sighs and rubs her back, a soothing gesture that's become a habit for him. "I've got at least one good reason to want that."

he melts into her, and she melts back into him. He's warm, he's home. "You know you can always use Gram's," she says. The flat was perfectly fine with a portal. So long as it was a private portal for Finnick and Finnick alone.

"I'll do anything I can. To make sure you can come and go." To be with her.

"I won't make you do any more than you have to," he tells her, and it's the truth. He invited her to come with him in Havering, but in that case he knew already that the witches would be preoccupied with Croydon and they were far enough away from the vampires not to worry about them too much. He knows she's trained and she can handle herself, but he's not going to use her as a piece in any game, and he's not going to rely on her to be there in a situation that could just as easily make her upset.

"And I won't let it get to that either. The fae can be strong enough to make our voice heard here."

if he asked, she knew she'd do anything. be it put herself in a bad position or anything. she loved him and love meant Annie would go above and beyond for him. they were both painfully aware of it, and deep down she was thankful he didn't put her in those positions. but at the same time she hated not being as capable as she should have been.

"I know," she said softly, near his ear. "you're amazing. I'm so lucky to have you." she didn't deserve him.

"I'm the lucky one," he tells her with a smile. He pulls away just slightly so that he can kiss the top of her hair again. "Now come on, you should get some rest."

"I was resting," she insists, but other than that, doesn't argue. "You need it, too." She reaches down to take his hand. "And I sleep better with you, anyway."

"Fine," he says, nuzzling her gently with his nose. His hand closes around hers and then he stands up, waiting for her to follow before he leads her to the bedroom. It's not much, but it's all Finnick needs in the mortal realm. A simple bed frame with a decent mattress, not much in the way of decoration except for a few things he's collected over the years and anything Annie's brought in to bring a bit of life to the place.

She follows him to her feet, tiny by his side. Annie leans against him as he walks the two of them into his room. Their room, she sometimes lets herself think. Over the past few months she's brought in flowers, candles, books, to decorate. Some of her hunting equipment is in a drawer, her knives, other such things.

Oh, and some clothes. It's been a long time since she first left a toothbrush over here.

"Keep me warm," she tells him, moving to curl up in his bed, reaching for the fluffy throw blanket. " hands are cold."

Finnick doesn't need to be told twice, slipping into bed beside her and fitting himself around her. He tucks an arm around her waist snugly and sighs happily once he's comfortable.

"Warm enough?"

Annie nuzzles up against him. "Much better," she coos, wrapping her arms around his as best she can. "You're a perfect big-spoon."

"Only because you're a perfect little spoon," he murmurs affectionately, grinning because he can't help it when Annie's this happy.

"I try real hard," she tells him over her shoulder. Her eyes are shut again, blankets pulled tight around her. She'll be back to sleep in no time.

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HAVERING CLAIM

DECEMBER 9TH; EARLY MORNING (FOR ANNIE)

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