undergrounds | The Slippery Slope [ Active / Open ]

Entry tags:

The Slippery Slope [ Active / Open ]

i) Norrellite Coven, Open Door Session

It's a new year, and Gilbert Norrell is still excessively pleased with himself. Not only has he gained a coveted place upon the Night Council as Witch Representative, but he has persuaded the Night Council to enact a law to limit and punish the use of Dark Magic.

Finally, things are coming together! Finally all is as he hoped!

Of course, the idea that Sylvia may wish to send him away to visit other covens so soon after his appointment is a concern. Yet for now it is one he is not thinking too deeply on. Norrell's desire to stamp out all the mystical traditional nonsense from magic and make it modern and respectable does lend to spreading his word. Perhaps, he thinks, it will be a good thing to gain support outside London too. It is only that he dislikes travelling so extensively...

Norrell's study itself is a curious thing, impossible to find without escort. The way feels excessively winding, as if an impossible number of turns must be taken -- turns that are oddly difficult to remember afterward. There is the dizzying sense of magic about it, but then again perhaps such things are to be expected from Gilbert Norrell -- a man who is not without paranoia.

Childermass is in attendance as always during his open door session. Norrell himself sits behind his desk with excessively small glasses balanced on his nose, his sharp eyes glancing up as people enter. As High Priest of Daybreak alongside his role as coven leader Norrell must listen to all Daybreak witches and address their concerns. It is only that he wishes their concerns were not so plentiful and tiresome.

Of course, he is also happy to take on the role of teacher for those who wish it. Norrell greatly enjoys talking about magical history, theory and practice. While he dislikes purely theoretical magicians -- well, reading is an important part of learning and Norrell will cite any number of great authors and books to help a person find and fashion a spell for what they need. After all, his is the most extensive magical library in England.

If he will give you the book itself to read is another matter entirely.

"Well?" He prompts, removing his glass to hang on their chain and setting aside his pen -- lacing his hands together on his desk. Norrell's gaze is equal parts expectant and mildly impatient. He does have work to be doing.

ii) Night Council, Westminster

His new position means Norrell is back and forth from Westminster even more than previously. Before he had been trying to gain audiences with the Night Council, delivering messages, pleas, petitions, letters expression his opinions on matters and suggestions.

Now it is others who seek audiences with him. What a great thrill it is, to be so recognised at last! Only now, where he had been the irritation of others (even if he had not regarded himself so) -- now others irritate Norrell. They wait outside Westminster to catch him going in and out, trying to rapidly ask questions or pass messages. To shout and protest, to plead and push messages toward him. Norrell's car always draws as close as it can, and Childermass is always on hand to push people away, but he feels harried.

Some protest the law, some applaud him and ask what more he will do. Some call for peace, and some ask what Norrell will do about Croydon -- when will he secure Daybreak's grip upon it once more?

It is a certain level of chaos associated with celebrity, and while it is flattering for a short while Norrell quickly grows to dislike it very much.

Mister Norrell! A woman screams as he slips from his car, tries to hurry up the steps. Bodyguards restrain her, and Norrell dare not risk a glance back until he is near the top of the steps. Mister Norrell! You will answer for what you do!

He pales and hurries the rest of the way up the steps and into the security of the building, lips thinned unhappily. So distracted is he that he doesn't notice his company at first, and it is only the slight catch of movement that alerts and startles him into taking a step back.

iii) The Purge Begins

Once the purge begins in full force the Night Council and its Guardians are busier than ever. Fielding findings from searches, charges to be filed, complaints, reports from well meaning folk ranging from valid to 'well they wear a lot of black and eyeliner and looked at me suspiciously'.

Gilbert Norrell, of course, takes it upon himself to handle a lot of this personally. Not only does this stop Sylvia having to deal with it (something she, of course, is glad for -- this way the fault lies with him not her if it all goes south) but Norrell himself is glad for it. Denouncing witches his disapproves of and making their lives difficult is, after all, something Norrell excels at and enjoys greatly. Childermass himself has been employed many a time to investigate purely theoretical witches who cannot cast a spell to save their life, to force them to admit they are not true witches and then (of course) to gain any good books or tools they own and bring them to Norrell himself.

Norrell is the Greatest Witch of the Age (title unofficial ), The High Priest of Daybreak and Witch Representative of the Night Council. He speaks for witches, and it is his good intention to see witches respected appropriately (and himself in the process).

Of course, this means he is greatly busy with all the work he has made for himself. He is constantly poring over reports and signing documents, reading through descriptions and examining items -- giving instruction and snapping at Childermass that he has no time.

That, and there are the charges and complaints to address too.

Some come to complain of the way they have been searched, of the behaviour of guardians who have done the search, of the right of the Night Council to even do such a thing or even to question the new law itself.

Some are brought before him to face charges.

They are accompanied, of course, and the questionable items delivered for inspection along with reports -- and Norrell examines everything with a critical eye and an air of distaste.

iv) The Croydon Debacle Pt. ii

The fae are moving.

Norrell knew it would happen, and this time he is prepared. This time he has extra resources at his fingertips, and why should he not use them?

It is not cheating, to Norrell, merely acting for the greater good with all his strength. Making sure that he is making it more respectable to be a witch and that that dark, evil magic is being denounced in favour of modern magic.

So what issue is there with him ensuring that Croydon will be purged as one of the first territories? What issue is there with him planning for Daybreak to move on it shortly after?

It would have to be purged eventually. That is the new law, after all! If it perhaps works in his favour it is neither here nor there. Any accusations of favouritism are scowled down, for the fae are an enemy to all and the territory was Daybreak's originally. It is right that it should be returned to them, as any territory taken by the fae menace should be returned to its owners.

Norrell begins to make plans. He calls upon all his previous allies, contacts, spreads word to Hillingdon once more and offers his usual rewards. Money, scholarships, teaching.

This time, however, this time he has greater reach. This time he asks not just as a High Priest of Daybreak, but as someone with inside knowledge of the Night Council.

His letters are sent, his requests for assistance, offers -- now all he can do is wait.

Surely this time...

Surely this time he can truly drive out the fae, and then he will have proven he deserves this?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yes," she says when prompted, having given him time to compose himself. She would have wanted it herself, so the least she can do is offer it. Small gestures of respect. Just because she's beginning to hate this man doesn't mean she has to show it. Better by far to give him less reason to overtly act and speak against her. To present herself as being as reasonable as possible.

Honey rather than vinegar.

"I have helped those witches who acknowledge me as High Priestess of Circle Midnight relocate from their homes and businesses within Croydon. Those who remain have chosen not to fall under my protection."

It's an interesting decision, one Norrell is not entirely sure how to process. Perhaps she is simply protecting her own? Perhaps she is admitting defeat? Or seeing reason, that the fae are not worth working with? Perhaps she is turning against the fae herself? He studies her a moment longer, considering this, before inclining his head fractionally in acceptance.

"It is a wise choice," he says finally. "The interest and assistance of the fae is won and lost in all too fickle a manner. One might not even know what they did to gain or lose such a thing. They are not to be trusted as long term allies, not to be trusted at all. They will betray you."

"They are only to be trusted," Abigail offered as a counter, "when one has the time and skill to sit down and put everything carefully to writing."

True deals. Proper ones. Nothing heat of the moment. No vague promises.

Two parties sitting down and hashing out the contract line by line. It still wasn't exceptionally safe, no, but sometimes it was necessary. Like if one wanted to survive when everything went against that. When there was a curse, for instance...

The time and skill. Norrell snorts, looks away from her as he begins to walk -- seemingly expecting she will walk with him.

"At what cost?" he prompts, "I understand your family has a history of this, Miss Widdowson, but some traditions should not be continued. The involvement and contribution of fae to magic over the years has been exaggerated, romanticised, deliberately by the fae themselves. Nothing would please me better than to put them out of people's minds entirely."

He stops finally, looks back at her and hesitates again -- expression pinching into something complicated, uneasy. As if Norrell is not as confident as his showboating suggests, as if he is indeed afraid.

"I know what people think of me. I know what you think of me. But you must understand. Once you let them in you will never be free of them."

Edited 2016-01-20 14:43 (UTC)

"Would you die?"

It's a simple question. She can't even, at this moment, be angry when she asks it. To her, it's part of life. Of being a Widdowson.

"Would you accept, at eighteen, that you have, at most, seven more years to live? And making it to eighteen depends on if you're the only child, if you go out out the house."

Her younger brother -- rightful heir by the old ways -- had died in a car wreck. Along with her parents. Even now, she knows that the clock is ticking. That every day could easily be her last. Because she hasn't made the deal yet.

"I want to have a child and see them grow up. That is the sum of the deal I intend to make with a fae. It infringes on no one's free will, does no one harm, and I bear all costs. How is that evil, Mister Norrell?"

Norrell's expression falls into a frown, considering the question soberly. Would he die? In truth, he is not fully sure. The question is a rhetorical one, in his case, for he does not suffer the threat. It is easy to answer such a thing defiantly when he does not have to act on it.

"I did not say it was evil, Miss Widdowson," he begins carefully, "but dangerous, yes. There are some things worse than death. If it were me... I would not accept death, no, but neither would I accept that to deal with a fae was the only way. I would fight such a thing, my own way. On my own terms."

"A great many things are dangerous but not illegal," Abigail murmured calmly. That, ultimately, was her greatest point here. What she wanted to speak to him about.

"I'd like to speak to you -- not today, I don't expect -- High Priest to High Priestess. About the ban you have set into motion."

'High Priest to High Priestess.'

His frown becomes wary about that, aware of opinions she might have on such a thing.

"You understand the law is not enacted by myself alone, that it is a law put forth by the Night Council by vote?"

"I understand that very well. But laws can be amended, and those must be started by individuals."

Straight forward. Best to just... say it. Watch his reaction. If it was pointless, she could withdraw and start from a different angle. But if there was a change... She had to try and take it.

"And why would I wish to amend such a law? You know very well it is my greatest wish to make magic respectable, Miss Widdowson, and dark magic -- fae magic especially -- is not respectable."

Norrell thins his lips, hesitates before adding --

"I have the greatest sympathy for your... personal situation, and I would be happy to look into what might be done to undo it, but..."

"I'd like to discuss with you -- and, eventually, the rest of the Night Council -- the definition of dark magic."

The law itself... Well. She couldn't disagree with it. Not really. There were types of magic that shouldn't be used. Controlling the mind, harming the body. But that wasn't the extent of what was considered dark magic.

It would be easier, she'd decided, to fight for small alterations. Bit by bit.

Ah! At this, and perhaps surprisingly, Norrell brightens. It is not, after all, the same thing as wishing to overturn his law -- it is defining it properly, and if there is something thing Norrell greatly enjoys it is discussing magic. Definitions especially.

"Oh! Do you believe there are some spells that should be re-categorised? That is possible! There are some things that can be cast in more than one way, or perhaps adjusted -- a great many spells can be updated, and perhaps cleaner versions introduced. I have thought of publishing a book of magic myself for the modern age, suggestions and so on, but I have so little time..."

That, and Norrell struggles to put his thoughts to paper. Oh, how he would love to publish more! Yet the truth of it is he is his own worst critic, and struggles with the wording and style and exactly what he wishes to say. Which, unfortunately, are things required for one to write a book.

"I do. Naturally--" she won't let deny anything of the sort since, well, if she does this get full conversation later, it will come up. "I disagree as to the classification of fae-related magic, but that's not the only sort."

She smiles. It's not too different than what's gone on at Redbright... save that she doesn't have 'Mother' looking over her shoulder here, and the person she could discuss it with might be in a position to help her maybe change things. Or at least get the ball rolling.

"I'd like to sit down. Perhaps several times over the course of a week or two? And discuss the classifications of magic. You'll forgive me for saying so, but--"

It's been a point she's been waiting to bring up to someone. Something she's discussed among her fellows.

"It seems so unfair to me -- that someone from one Circle, especially as substantial as Daybreak is -- should have to worry about representing the interests of both Circles. I'd like to help. Even in just sitting down as academics and discussing potentials."

She would ask for no promises. Especially now. The game had to be played a lot slower than that.

He frowns at her first question, a little unhappily, and the expression gradually becomes something more complex as she continues to speak -- as if he cannot quite decide if he should be flattered or annoyed.

"Oh," he says, "it is a very great burden, of course, but one I carry willingly. Vrinak has been a great help to me, so I have not been alone in this!"

Norrell looks agitated a moment, torn between the desire to discuss something academically and wariness of what Abigail might intend.

"Of course, Sutton-Grove does not classify fae magic as modern.¹ It excludes it entirely, an approach I support. I do believe Sutton-Grove would be a good basis for such things, it is very thorough -- although I have my own opinions and adjustments, of course. Much of his work shows its age and can be tidied up, made more succinct and the like. This month is very busy for me -- we have the river boat procession to prepare for -- but perhaps I could compile some notes in the mean time...?"

He blinks his small eyes at her curiously, and perhaps his idea (and hope) of how such a thing might go differs to hers. For Norrell does like to talk and debate, but his idea of discussing something as academics involves a great deal of lengthy discussion of history and reading.

¹Francis Sutton-Grove (1682-1765), a theoretical magician of whom Gilbert Norrell is the greatest fan. His book De Generibus Artium Magicarum Anglorum is described often as one of the most tedious and dreary texts in British Magical history, but is of note as the first attempt to define areas of magic worth study to the modern witch. Like Norrell, it excludes all fae magic as beyond reproach, and also plenty of wild or 'whimsical' spells. The book is out of print now, and (as with many rare books) extremely hard to find since Norrell has hoarded most copies into his library at Hurtfew.

Edited (Typo....) 2016-01-29 15:03 (UTC)

The name, of course, isn't immediately familiar to Abigail. She has plenty of education in magic and history, but the Widdowsons have their own versions of history. Ancient magic, so entwined with the fae, and yet... That might well be the origin of magic in its entirety. Not that she'd argue it here. She can talk the details about it all with Unthank at the same time, too. She smiles faintly.

"I would appreciate the notes, and if you could tell me where I could find a copy of his work, I'd be glad to read it and make my own notes."

She didn't have university work. She'd taken the semester off to focus on her coven and Circle. And, if all could go well, perhaps even the Night Council... Which was a high hope. Almost impossible to achieve, but she could work toward it.

The question is a sensible one, but it strikes Norrell awkwardly for a half-second. Where she could find a copy of his work? It is a thing he knows very well would be extremely difficult, for the simple fact that he has hoarded all copies of all such works for himself. For precisely the reason of making sure other people cannot have them, too! It is, so he tells himself, so they cannot fall into the wrong hands. So people cannot make mischief! So those who would abuse magic will struggle to learn how to do so!

The fact that it means he is still the foremost expert on many things and has the largest magical library in England is a side matter entirely.

"I could not be sure," he says smoothly at last, after only a minor hesitation. "I believe it is out of print. The text itself is very old. I could look into a few good stores to see if they hold a copy or know who might."

Which he will, although that might simply mean he would buy up any copy he found and claim he did not find any. It is a contrary sort of thing for a man who longs to talk about magic to do, to make it yet more difficult for others to learn so they might discuss it, but it is a decision that makes sense to Norrell. He must remain the authority on these things, or else he fears outliving his usefulness. Being outshone by others, younger and better at the ways of the world than he is.

"I may have a few sources I could ask as well," she murmurs. It isn't at all disparaging. Merely a remark. After all, the Widdowsons are an old family, and the families they know are older still. Unthank, in particular, might know of places to obtain a rare book. Some forgotten copy in an estate library that hasn't been inventoried in decades.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me at all. I look forward to our discussions."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Slippery Slope [ Active / Open ]

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

Did I dream I replied to this, where did it go...

Gremlins! I blame the gremlins