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

[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."

[knowstheworld]

"And so you focus on that building then," Childermass says, which of course is less of a question than a statement. It's understandable enough, but it still does not explain why he should have been staring out the window at it for quite so long as he had. Surely a photographer does more of their work on scene and in the moment, though Childermass can say he has no claim to know such things himself.

"Why that building in particular, sir?" he asks. "Westminster is near crawling with politicians, if that's what you're after."

[fatherswatch]

It was a good question. One that, of course, being less than a true photographer, he had to really consider. Which he hoped suggested the artistic mind thinking. Rather than the spy choosing their cover carefully.

"Because it strikes me. I-- cannot really offer much other reason. Nothing so... specific."

[knowstheworld]

"Hmm," Childermass says in return to this response, which could mean anything or nothing, really. He certainly gives nothing away himself. Merely raises the drink he has brought with him to take a sip from it and regard the man carefully.

"It would do you well to keep out of their way, the folk that frequent a place like that," he says at last. "Powerful people often bring a great deal of trouble with them in their wake." Whether Childermass is warning him off or actually giving him warning against the people in the Night Council, that's not exactly clear either. He's not going to tell him to stop whatever he's doing, though. The man certainly doesn't seem to be doing anything more than looking. To his awareness, anyway.

[fatherswatch]

"People like them," Illya says in quiet contemplation, "only notice what they want to notice. Or what directly opposes them. I will give them no cause to see me."

Which, to most, sounded foolish. After all, he was a fairly noticeable man. Tall and broad. Yet, he'd learned all too well that he could mingle with people without ever being seen because he made no attempt to be noticed.

"It is good of you to warn me, though. Thank you."

[knowstheworld]

Childermass wonders at the other man's words. He does not think he is as foolish as they paint him to be after all. Nor does he think that he is a photographer, as he suggested he is, for that matter. But he cannot get a good feel about him, otherwise, save that he is... Other in some way. Not fae, no. Not witch either. Shifter? Wolf?

He gives the other man the benefit of the doubt for now, inclining his head at him instead. Although he cannot help but test the waters by saying, "If it is the Night Council, you are after especially, then I warn you. However foolish their most recent ventures are, they are a powerful collection of folk. I would not linger long on their doorstep if you do not wish to catch their attention."