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[specifiercity]

JANUARY 5TH: HILLINGDON

It's a new year, but it's the same old routine for Arthur. The holidays barely register as a thing for him anymore, and while everything gets a bit cozier and cheesier over the holidays, he's glad for the return to infrequent parties and fewer social expectations. He doesn't have that many friends and family to connect with over the holidays anyway, and it wasn't a good time for him to go home to Chicago for a visit.

So it's no surprise that he can be found in the halls of Hillingdon house in early January as if none of it had ever happened, looking for quick and easy bounties to pick up as he organizes a few supply orders. One day he can be found speaking in a hushed but urgent down into his phone at the end of a hallway.

"Two weeks ago you said you'd have the black ironwood. No, I'm not settling for desert, that's not the same thing. I'm almost out and now I'll have to go to someone else - yes, I'd rather pay a bit more than be dead, thanks. Jesus..."

The conversation continues like this for a minute or two longer until he hangs up with a curse, a look on his face like he misses the old days when one could literally slam the phone down to end a call.

JANUARY 8TH: THE BAR

So the man isn't really one for birthdays. He's never made it a big deal, and it barely even came up in the past few years while he was too busy traveling to realize it had come and gone. Today the plan was no different. He ran his errands this morning, had a business meeting over lunch, stopped in at Hillingdon to check in and see if there were any bounties worth picking up, and finished with a lovely dinner catching up with a couple associates. There were a couple glasses of wine ingested at this dinner, but nothing too over the top, and they don't even know it's his birthday when they part ways and he heads home alone.

On this walk, however, he thinks on it a little bit and feels that something is missing. He is turning 30 after all, and it would be a shame not to mark the occasion. There's a popular bar he's stopped into before on his way home, and tonight he spontaneously decides to have a few drinks. It's barely an hour later, after striking up a pleasant conversation with the bartender and introducing himself to the patrons next to him, that Arthur's grinning widely with flushed cheeks, animated and excited at every topic of conversation that comes his way.

He is, of course, uproariously drunk.

JANUARY 11TH: THE PURGE

Arthur's been watching Daybreak. He's been watching them move throughout Croydon, pushing out the dark magic like this is their divine mission. Arthur's not a huge fan of magic that hurts anyone, but he's also not a fan of Sylvia Redbright's apparent directive to bring peace to the London underground by controlling the whole system.

This, though, this has Norrell written all over it, so Arthur's been tracking one Daybreak witch all morning, watching him come and go and hoping that he'll lead him somewhere useful. It's an odd, perhaps creepy thing to do without any promise of a paycheque at the end, but Arthur's as covert as he can be and he's obnoxiously patient. Currently he's watching this witch speak with a defensive shop owner, from across the street in a small deli, passively hoping that it'll turn into a real fight since he's so unbelievably bored.

Comments

[reticence]

If only he knew, Arthur really needn't be as neutral about vampires as he is. Faolan himself has to remain somewhat neutral on the matter -- he's the Clan Leader, after all, and he needs to remain for the largest part impartial as he makes his decisions. But that doesn't mean that he has any sort of kind words to say at all on the subject of vampires. On the contrary, given his past with the creatures, he has absolutely no problem with Arthur's suggestions at all.

He quirks something of a wry smile at the other man that doesn't quite meet his eyes. "It makes you selfish, when your own existence lasts for that long. When your hunger drives you the way that it does for them. It's why they're so dangerous. And why, yes, threatening their existence seems to really be the only way to get through to them. And that's only if you're an actual threat."

[specifiercity]

Arthur considers that smile thoughtfully, wondering how much Faolan isn't telling about his feelings on the matter. "I agree," Arthur says, "and I'm doing my part, but Islington isn't a small nest."

He pauses, but not quite long enough for Faolan to interject. His tone remains casual, but there's definitely some weight in it somewhere - some recognition that this proposition is a big one. "Imagine every hunter in this clan working together to hold them accountable. We could become that threat."

[reticence]

Faolan tilts his head, considering this. Understanding that for all the casual tone, this is definitely more than just a casually fleeting thought. There is weight to the proposition. Something that should definitely not be taken lightly.

"We could," he agrees. "Provided we stood together. Provided we were to make intelligent decisions as a whole, and weren't to try operating as individuals who all happen to share a common goal. It's a definite possibility." He gives the other man a long, searching look, trying to assess whether it is something that Arthur is serious about himself.

[specifiercity]

Arthur isn't in the habit of giving anything away. He shrugs, putting an end to his feelings on the topic as far as Faolan's concerned.

"I guess that's up to you now," he says, with a hint of a smirk.

[reticence]

Faolan can't help but quirk something of a smile in response to the other man's tactics. It's probably something he might have used himself, if he had had the luxury. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't. He is in charge, after all.

"I guess it is," he says, with the quirking of a smile.

He's got a lot of things to think about, it would seem. He raises his coffee to take a sip, before nodding to the door behind him. "Duty calls," he says. "No rest for the weary and all that. Though I wish you luck with your supplier." He raises an eyebrow. "Let me know if you need a referral elsewhere. I wouldn't know the difference in quality, but I've got a guy you might be able to turn to, if you need it."

[specifiercity]

Arthur nods, giving Faolan a polite smile of thanks. "I've got a couple more calls to make about it, but I'll let you know," he says. After a moment's thought, he adds, "and you let me know if there's anything I can do to help you. There are a lot of people here, a lot of personalities. It might be a lot of work to get them on the same page."

It's ominous, perhaps, but if Faolan's headed in the direction Arthur hopes, he wants to make it as easy as possible for him without showing too much of his own hand.

[reticence]

Faolan bobs his head and raises his coffee in something of a salute at that. "Thanks," he responds. "Knowing this lot, I'll need all the help I can get, I'm sure."

"I'll be seeing you around then, Arthur," Faolan says in parting, before he turns and disappears into his office at last.