undergrounds | some kind of resolution (january catch-all for nancy and annie)

"If only he weren't so paranoid," Finnick says, allowing himself to sound a bit annoyed instead of totally bored. "He sends his militant followers out to do his dirty work and keeps a few extra lackeys around just in case."

"Granted, there are people out to get him," he finishes with a wry smile, glancing at Nancy.

"His butler- manservant?- Childermass is his name- is the worst one." She allows herself to make a face. He was creepy, greasy, and had manhandled her. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the arm where he'd grabbed her.

"I don't know what's worse, followers, or his employees." She shuddered at memory of their happy, happy time together. And she'd been concerned he'd be participating.

"He doesn't have to pay his followers to buy into his lunacy," Finnick says evenly. The followers across the street are now packing the boxes into a truck to carry them off - they were too difficult to destroy on scene, so they have to be kept somewhere most likely - and Finnick keeps watching them, fascinated. Between that and the bored tone, it's like he's too distracted to engage in the conversation, but he's listening to every word, sensing every movement she makes. She's still a witch after all.

"Then again, he does seem to choose capable people to pay. It's a choice between the foolish and the self-interested."

"You're right." He was. People freely following him, that was worse. It meant that they did things like this. She just really didn't like Childermass.

She watches for a few moments, as the truck is packed up, idly wondering where they were taking everything. It was a pity, to destroy all of it. There was so much history there, natural and supernatural alike. Some of the pieces belonged in a museum.

"You've run into his associates." A statement, rather than a question, and she eyes him carefully. "Either way, they're both still dangerous, with Norrell behind them."

"Danger's a relative term when you're immortal," Finnick says dryly. It's some vague fae bullshit to avoid the actual subject of conversation, something he's become increasingly skilled at over the years. He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from the store, leaning back on the wall and looking down at the ground with a frown that hints at exhaustion, arms still crossed tightly across his chest. "Still, he is a threat. Maybe for the fae it's only short term, but Circle Midnight's entire existence is at risk after this."

He says, as if he cares.

"Hmm." Is all Finnick gets for his troubles. She knows, it's safe to say. Nothing has been able to touch Fagin in millennia. She had no reason to doubt that was the same for Finnick.

It's unnerving, to hear that. She'd had the thought tickling at the back of her head for the past few weeks, but now... "It's not even about practicing dark magic," she muttered darkly. "If he wanted, I'd give him a bloody signed contract saying I'd never summon a fae." Go over to their flat and visit one, sure. But never summon one. Pity she couldn't say the same for others.

She wasn't even that good at magic!

"He just wants all magic to be practiced the way he sees fit," Finnick says airily, regarding her with a touch of... sympathy? It couldn't truly be that in his eyes. It's subtle, because he's good at this. He has no idea who this witch is, but there's a touch of fae magic on her.

"That means no more Midnight."

"No Midnight, and no fae." She really looks at him for the first time. Handsome, without a doubt, but he's so unmistakably fae. Something in his eye, and in the corner of his lips that really gives him away, if she couldn't sense these sorts of things already.

And Norrell knew she was an associate of both.

"The fae will live on in Faery," he says, dismissive, "but this all would have been yours if not for Circle Daybreak."

He shrugs, as if he's not invested in the whole thing, just making a simple observation. "They decided, instead of just letting the witches move in peacefully, that they'd engage the fae in conflict. It was just as much a slight against you, but the consequences will be much greater for Midnight in the end."

"Tell me something I don't know." The fae would be able to come back. But if Midnight was wiped out completely, then there'd be no coming back, because Norrell and his ilk were painting with broad strokes.

She presses her lips together.

At least Fae being banned meant Fagin would be gone. But she couldn't take care of the boys all on her own, not in a million years. Swallowing thickly, Nancy turns to Finnick, her eyes clear.

"They hate us so much- all of us- that they'd risk your wrath to get rid of us."

Now she's got it. Finnick has no idea who this girl is, how relevant she may be. It's worth it to get just one Midnight witch on their side. He knows they won't help the fae take back Croydon, but maybe if one foolish Midnighter can be encouraged into breaking whatever agreement the witches have amongst themselves, everything will be broken and the fae can take advantage of Midnight's kindness once again.

"This certainly seems like proof of that," Finnick says, gesturing to where the truck is pulling away.

There are very few people in the world that know her full allegiance to Midnight, her status within Shadow Coven. And she'd like to keep it that way.

"They'll burn us at the stake." What did you do with Witches, after all? "They're fining people for paraphernalia. For intent to commit crimes that haven't even been thought of yet!"

"All because Norrell wants to control every bit of magic in London," he says with a touch of bitterness. "He can't control the fae so he's pushing us out. He can't control Midnight so he's ending it altogether. Croydon was just the beginning of something bigger."

Nancy doesn't say anything. She just looks at the toe of her shoes- trainers. It's far more useful for alleged undercover work.

He'll find a way to make the boys' lives hell. If he does get rid of Fagin (which she highly, highly doubted), then the boys would on their own because she couldn't take care of them. For their sake, he had to be stopped. For the sake of so many others lives- for the lives of the innocent Daybreak witches, as well, he had to be stopped.

"He knows who I am." She said after a moment, swallowing. "He knows I'm involved with Fae. I'm an enemy to him on two fronts."

The fact that Nancy says she's involved with the fae piques Finnick's interest, but he decides not to pursue that for now. Plenty of people are involved with fae to varying extents, it's not always an interesting relationship.

"All the more reason he needs to be shut down," he says casually instead.

Oh, it's interesting alright.

Nancy purses her lips, before she settles on the simple: "I know." She had no idea how, truthfully. Politics had never been her game. Unfortunately, she was stuck with them.

"Then you should help with Croydon," he says. "It should be Midnight's right now; there was a deal." Finnick's tone is insistent, perhaps betraying his feelings about said deal when it happened. He has no control over that now - the best he can do is try to twist things in their favour again.

"The way I see it, Daybreak wasn't trying to take it from us. They were trying to take it from you. They made the first move, don't you see?"

Nancy closed her eyes, pressing her lips together. Her stomach turned as a surge of guilt washed over her. They could have handed Croydon over earlier, she should have pushed for it, then they could have actually gotten it.

"I know." The words take some difficulty to say. "But I can't. There's more than just me, here." It was true, that it had been Daybreak to break the truce. But she needed it to be known. For all of London to truly see what had happened. And she didn't have the power to do that. But Abigail did.

Finnick shrugs one shoulder and looks back at the storefront, where a 'closed' sign now hangs in the window. No doubt the owner needs at least a day to recover from whatever beating or curse was laid upon them. Or perhaps those objects were the largest source of revenue. Finnick doesn't particularly care to stay and find out.

"I have my King and Queen, you have your High Priestess or your Mother, whatever you want to call it. I don't presume to know how witches organize themselves."

Nancy nods. "Precisely." Abigail was her High Priestess, her friend. She was the one who started it, and Nancy wasn't going to do anything stupid without her permission. Fagin could go fuck himself for what she cared of his opinions of witch matters. He'd kept her separate from that world, unaware she was a witch, for far too long.

"We have a degree of anonymity but. I can't trust that." Norrell knew who she was.

"Anonymity's no use when everyone's using it anyway," Finnick says with a sigh. "Someone has to be the face of change. Norrell's the face of his. It may make him more of a target, but it makes them stronger in the end."

He has a point. There weren't many records of her, anyway. She didn't legally exist, after all.

"And Abigial is the face of ours."

"Mm," Finnick says. He waits a beat and then looks at her again with a critical, almost cruel gaze. "Hasn't made much of an impression lately, has she? Norrell is huffing and puffing his way through London and Abigail is...?"

Nancy steels herself against the look. "She's been busy." She says simply, "So you shut your mouth. There's more to politics than battles and wars. Our entire faction is under attack from this." She gestures to the now-closed storefront.

"We're far more endangered than the fae." Fagin had taught her to play chess. She wasn't very good at it, but sometimes the best defense was to know when to retreat. "And we signed a treaty. We wouldn't attack Daybreak for the Fae, or with them. They've broken it, but we can't be the first to attack, as much as I wish we could. Don't believe me, ask Eames, he was there." Casually namedropping him like it's no big deal.

Edited (more words I decided I wanted.) 2016-01-26 17:19 (UTC)

Finnick laughs, humourless. "I know very well what Eames did," he says, "and that's not the point. The point is that Daybreak has found ways to attack without attacking. If Midnight wants to survive, you have to find a way to do the same."

some kind of resolution (january catch-all for nancy and annie)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)