The Newcomer Affair

[fatherswatch]

i) The security
Redbright Institute, early January

Overall, he had no strong opinion of the woman in charge of the Redbright Institute. He had been sent to observe and carefully decide what he thought of everything. That was what he was to report to UNCLE. So superficial meetings? Weren't important. In a few months, he'd be more certain.

The school was interesting. Russia had their own, but they tended to be more segmented. After his father had been arrested, he'd attended one that could closely be called a military school. Still, it seemed like a proper way to educate young people able the abilities they were born with.

His job in and of itself was uneventful. He basically only had to stand in the hallways and make eye contact with the obvious troublemakers. Everyone else understood not to even try. With his fellow staff, he was just as quiet, but he didn't look at them like he was daring them to attempt making trouble. If anything, at times, he ignored them more often than not.


ii) The scout
Enfield, early January

Part of his real job was to monitor the situation in London as a whole. Which was why he found his way to the borough claimed by Circle Midnight.

On the outside, it looked no different than anything else in London. The supernatural community kept their heads down, and he approved.

Magic wasn't something he could sense, so he could do nothing but walk the streets, casually sipping a cup of coffee. It would take some time to gain access to the varying groups, but it was what he needed to do.

However, it had been easy enough to follow a trail of paperwork. Not that it hadn't been well done, plenty of proxies and the like. But with a computer and time (both of which he had and knew how to properly use), it could be traced.

Which was how he came to the Seven Sisters. A cute little psychic shop that was a front for the Shadow Coven. The outside was entirely unassuming, and he looked at it like a proper sceptic. Which was why it was easy enough to glance to the side, where someone else was.

"Have you ever been here?"


iii) The renter
Ealing, mid January

"I'm sorry, sir," the girl at the counter said. "That card isn't working."

Even though he knew that it was likely Waverly who had figured the budget incorrectly, Illya's first inclination was to blame Solo. To be sure it was the thief who'd somehow 'changed' where his funds were.

"Do you have another form of payment?"

"No," he replied, a bit more sharply than he meant to. "I'm sorry."

Even if he didn't sound like he meant it, he did.

But he stepped out of line and some distance away before he began texting on his phone, swearing under his breath in Russian.


iv) The observant
Westminster, mid January

The Night Council headquarters had a small, somewhat expensive little deli across from them. It was there that Illya sat, enjoying his light lunch. A bit of soup to keep the chill out, and a sandwich to fortify the meal further. For a drink, he had only ice water.

From his seat inside, he could see the building across the way. He watched the people come and go, made mental notes of who he saw talking to whom, and who seemed to be intentionally avoiding people. The game was ancient, but London was a different board, and he had little information about the players. Whatever files UNCLE could provide were useless for really knowing someone.

After all, there had been a lot his files hand't said about Miss Teller and Mister Solo.

All he could do now was watch and learn. His presence at the Institute would help, he thought. Establish him and let him learn about all of these people.


v) The watchful
Croydon, late January

Fae were disinclined to ignore insults. And from what he'd heard of the matters in this borough? The fae were no doubt thoroughly insulted. Which made the small victory gained recently an indication of danger to come. At least to him.

So, he walked the streets after dark with only a few days until the full moon. His nerves were frayed, and his senses were sharpened. Every corner threatened to have something dangerous around it. Of course, he also knew he was probably just as threatening to quite a few people.

But he heard something. A little hint of noise that certainly didn't come from a car or the like.

"Who's there? Show yourself."

Comments

2

[stauncherhearted]

"Hmm?" Nancy looked up from where she was pretending to browse. Usually, she'd walk right through the front shop into their safehouse, but never when there was someone in the actual shop. They did have to keep up appearances of it being a proper little psychic's. When she realized that the Russian was indeed talking to her (odd), she tried to give a brief smile.

Truthfully, she looked worse for ware. The month- no, the last six months had been extreme hell, and she'd been hoping this year would have brought about a change for the better. But bruising around her neck and cheekbones indicated that there was no way in hell things were going to get any form of better any time soon.

"Oh, yeah," she said, feeling the magic in the air increased by his presence. He wasn't fae. Something else, but she couldn't pin-point, she wasn't anywhere near that good, yet. Another reason why she kept, for now, her bruises in the open. Usually they were covered, same with any bite marks, with a quick masking spell to deter people from asking too many questions. But keeping an illusion up for so long was exhausting, and since the Council had raided her apartment, she hadn't been sleeping well, even with a million spells reinforced as security.

"It's fascinating, isn't it?" She ran her finger over a few stone amulets. "Something from a book,"

[fatherswatch]

"A placebo, I imagine," Illya said as he looked at one charm. "Tell someone it is lucky, and they attribute things to do. And convince themselves it works."

He knew about magic. Of course he did. His handler was a witch. He had known metahumans and vampires, and he was a werewolf himself. He'd met his share of fae, as well. But the average male Russian wouldn't believe in such things. So, he would carry the part.

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy gave him a quick up-and-down. Russian, tall, handsome. And, apparently, not a believer in magic.

Ironic, of course.

But she'd keep up his charade. "You don't believe." A casual comment, like it was no big deal. But he's made her curious.

[fatherswatch]

Illya shook his head with a faint smile. Like he was humouring her.

"Old women and small children believe. And charlatans talk. Me? Not so much."

Unlike fae, he can lie.

"But it is beautiful. Though the wrong colour for you. I suggest purple. Lighter is better. Brings out the eyes."

Unsolicited fashion advice, but, well. He can offer that much at least.

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy holds back a laugh as he explains his false views. "So you here for the special lady in your life, or just curious?"

She looks down at the necklace, the bright pink of the stone. Illya gets a small, appreciative smile as she looks to a purple one. "Like this?" She held it up near her eyes. If he wanted to give unsolicited advice, he was stuck now playing fashion advisor.

3

[anniesgonemad]

"Ex-excuse me, sir?" Annie reached up and gingerly tapped the large Russian on the arm. "I, ah- uhm. I noticed, ah-" she gestures back at the desk. She could tell he was irritated, the entire area could. And he didn't seem like the type of person to be the sort you wanted to be around when he was angry. Furthermore, there was a language barrier, someone from Russia coming to England, a place that made immigration stupidly difficult, and he was having troubles.

"If you- look this is going to be really, uhm, really weird. But- if you need something extra? To cover the funds?" She blinked her large eyes at him, hoping he was following exactly what she was trying to say. She was a kindhearted woman, and she had more than enough money to her name. She could stand to help a guy out with a down payment. A little way to make the world a better place, maybe.

"It's not a problem. Before you say anything. I just, uhm, I like to help." She offered him a small, what she hoped was reassuring smile. Likely, she just looked crazy.

Re: 3

[fatherswatch]

"No," the tone is kinder than he used with the clerk, having had a few moments to calm down. "It is a bookkeeping error. It will be fixed soon."

Or Waverly and Oleg would be getting very angry voice mails and the like. But he certainly wouldn't take money from a stranger. The situation was aggravating enough; he wasn't going to compound it. Still, the offer was generous, and he gave a small smile.

"I was not buying anything I need. So it is fine. Thank you."

[anniesgonemad]

Annie looked over him warily, with only the slightest of frowns. "You- you sure?" She offered a friendly smile. "It's really not a problem. I've, ah," she pushed her hair behind her ears, trying to keep it from blocking her view of the world, as it so often was, "got plenty." Sole survivors tended to inherit quite a lot, not to mention the money that had been donated to her, when the news had broken. The Cresta family had been fortunate to begin with.

"But I understand." The words came with a heavy blush on Annie's part. She wouldn't have wanted to take money from a stranger, either. It was odd, to say the least. Though she'd meant it genuinely, she knew he couldn't expect it to have been pure kindness.

[fatherswatch]

Illya's small smile remained constant, and he bowed his head appreciatively. In her place, he might have offered the same. Not to someone who looked like him, no. But to her? Or someone young? Or old? Certainly. It was good to see acts of charity.

"You are very kind, but it is fine. My employer simply did not deposit his check correctly. A minor error."

4

[knowstheworld]

Childermass sits a few tables over from the man, regarding him carefully. He watches the other man watching the people coming in and out of the Night Council headquarters, and wonders what such a man could be doing. He wonders whether he's got anything to worry about, from this man's observations, or whether he's merely watching out the window. But he has been watching rather intently, and for longer than the casual observer would have done.

Childermass needs to get closer, to get a feel for his presence. Is he fae? Witch? Friend or foe? What is he after? Only one way to find out, he supposes. Standing, Childermass approaches the man's table.

"The building strikes quite the image, does it not," he comments, sidling up and without any further ado, dropping down in the seat across from him.

[fatherswatch]

"It does," he responded, eyes flicking over to the man who'd joined him.

He knows of only a few reasons to approach a stranger and sit with them. One was a desperate need for company, but the man doesn't give that impression. The other is the one Illya himself has employed -- notice and want of information. Which means this one has been watching him watch the building. Another spy? Likely. But for whom? And is he supernatural or merely human?

For his part, Illya knows there is a hint of magic around him. His handler told him that long ago. The modification to his father's watch by Oleg to keep him from being mind controlled gives off a faint sense of it. A small price to pay for the protection.

"It is a government building, yes?"

[knowstheworld]

"It is, yes," Childermass responds, glancing through the window at the building beyond before back across at the man across the table from him. "Though I dare say that nearly every building in this area would claim the same. This restaurant itself," he says, gesturing around them, "no doubt will make some claim to connection to the government in turn, even if it is only that they should serve them lunch every now and again."

He takes in the look of the man, trying to assess who he is and what he's after, staring out the window at the Night Council building like that. "What interests you in such a place?" he asks.

[fatherswatch]

"I photograph," Illya says. It's not a lie, certainly. He picked up the hobby for a cover years ago, and he's found uses for it several times. "People, especially. So where there are many comings and goings..."

He shrugs a little.

"It interests me. As does politics."

5

[facethewolves]

Alex still felt out of her depth in London. In part, she supposed, that was because she'd made such an effort for the first month to be alone, convinced she wouldn't be in town long. But now she had a pack, and like it or not, she was being pulled into the politics of this city. So she was trying to get to know the city better.

For her, that meant a lot of skulking around, trying to get a feel for the various boroughs, who lived there, how unstable the situation was, and places she could hide if she needed to leave the pack for some reason. She'd heard that the fae had recently been ousted from Croyden, but that didn't mean there weren't any threats here. Her silver knife was hidden in her jacket pocket, and this close to the full moon every shadow seemed like a reason to pull it out.

As she walked quietly down a dark alley, her foot hit a crumpled bit of paper. It wasn't a loud noise, but somebody heard it. She frowned, recognizing the accent. It couldn't be someone from her father's old pack, could it? No one in Russia knew she was alive. Still, better safe than sorry.

"You first." The voice had come from just outside the entrance to the alley, out of her line of sight. She pressed her back against the wall where the speaker hopefully wouldn't be able to see her, and reached for her knife.

[fatherswatch]

Illya's own blade was ceramic. Less useful against vampires and fae, yes, but easier to get past most forms of security. Metal detectors didn't pick up zirconium, after all. The answer to his demand has him pulling it out, pressing his thumb against the flat of the blade. Just in case he needs to use it.

Sure, it's a young woman speaking. But he knows all too well that there is no guarantee of a harmless girl.

When he steps around the corner, his hands are both visible. Even though he's still holding the knife. He isn't going to try and conceal it. She deserves to know that he's armed. It might change her mind about any kind of attack she has in mind.

"Your turn."

[facethewolves]

Alex decided to leave her knife in her pocket. The man wasn't posing an immediate threat - the fact that he wasn't trying to hide his own weapon made her actually trust him a little - and if he decided to attack she'd have something to surprise him with. She stepped away from the wall, hands lowered but slightly away from her body, easily visible.

"Who are you? What're you doing here?" Not subtle, but she was more concerned with making sure he wasn't working for her father's enemies than with keeping up any pretense of just being a normal girl out for a walk.

[fatherswatch]

"Illya Kuryakin," he responded. Near-absolute honesty would be best here. Give the cover story he had been told to give, even if he usually didn't pass it around. "FSB. I am here to assist in the removal of dark magical artefacts and practices."

4

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi had been complaining about her treatment by the Daybreak Circle at the very headquarters Illya was watching. Well, complaining to a front desk clerk. Her attempt didn't get her very far. She was having some anger munchies which meant the deli was going to bet a very tall order for such a tiny thing. She walked away from the counter (stomped) with her coffee, but stopped at seeing a familiar head and shoulder profile.

"Cousin, hey!" Kenzi chirps in their other shared language, happy to see a familiar face that isn't from this godforsaken place.

She smiles easily at the big guy as she pulls up a chair from another table to sit next to him.

[fatherswatch]

Illya turned his head at the sound of Russian and smiled a little to see the small young woman sitting down with him.

"Cousin," he answered with a soft chuckle. "What's wrong? Someone's obviously made you mad."

[kleptofaeniac]

"How the hell can you tell that?"

She looks herself up and down, like she forgot she was wearing a sign saying 'I'm mad as hell and I ain't gonna take anymore'. She was so sure she left that at home.

[fatherswatch]

"I think even Moscow could hear you walking with those boots," he offers.

4

[tearmeanewone]

Typically, Elizabeth isn't around the Night Council at all. She's not important enough to be there, for one thing, but strangely enough she's been summoned today to discuss something.

And when she comes out, she looks a little sick and shell-shocked. She pulls out her phone, puts it away, looks around to see if anyone is watching her, looks like she's going to walk in one direction, decides the other way is a better choice, stops. She looks at the deli across the street.

Damn it. It's a deli, not a bar.

[fatherswatch]

Now, that.

He recognises her. That is, after all, part of his job. To know someone after only a meeting or two. And, more than that, he knows her expression. Something is wrong. Which, normally, isn't his place. But this girl?

Well. He cut the wires off her leg once. The least he can do is check now.

He leaves his cup at the table and exits the shop. Then, he looks across the street, at the young girl, and he raises his hand to signal her.

[tearmeanewone]

Elizabeth sees the motion over the edge of her phone and raises her hand back in recognition. Mr. Kuryakin, the werewolf she'd offered her services to, who apparently would kill her if he was asked to.

...well, now he has a great reason if he's allied with the wrong people. But she still doesn't believe this could pan out whatsoever. Her? She could barely light a candle with her magic, what made anyone think she could be put in any position of power?

Everything was insane. Why not do the insane thing and walk across the street to meet the killer werewolf for lunch? Elizabeth looks both ways then crosses to meet him, an uncertain smile on her face.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Kuryakin. Convenient place for lunch isn't it?"

[fatherswatch]

"Extremely," he agrees with a hint of a smile.

Because, well. Whatever's wrong, it's likely not his business. Yet. But if it has to do with the Night Council... Well. If all goes according to plan, it will soon be his business. But there's no reason to pry right now.

"You look as if you could use a meal. Would you care to join me?"