It'd been a relatively normal day for Faolan as well. He'd been sitting in the main room of Hillingdon House doing some catching up on his work and not really paying the rest of the folk in the place much mind, idly listening in as they'd chatted to each other about the various news on the underground. He might have even missed it if he hadn't finished his most recent cup of coffee and had been making the move to get another. A murderer, they say. Rogue fae. But as their description pans out, a sinking feeling settles in Faolan's chest. He'd recognize a man like that. Hell, he knows where such a man lives. And Lancelot isn't exactly quiet about who he is. He's half willing to bet that someone else might reach the same conclusion.

He heads off almost immediately towards Lancelot's. He has to check in with him. He has to warn him about the bounty. How, if it isn't a match, he's close enough to the description for there to be concern. It couldn't possibly be him that they're looking for. ...could it?

He doesn't care how many times he has to ring the bell. He'll let himself in if he has to. Once again he's reached the other man's door without calling him. He thinks about calling him now, if he keeps ignoring him like this. Maybe he's working? But no. Faolan's stuck around him long enough to have his schedule somewhat memorized at this point. He should be here...

He lets out a breath as the door finally opens and Lancelot warily peers out at him. Faolan glances behind him as if searching to see if he's been followed before slipping in the door. Without having been invited, it should be noted -- usually he at least waits for that much. There's no time now, however, and he's not about to give Lancelot the opportunity to shut the door in his face. (Not that he expects he will, but there's a first time for everything.)

"I need to talk to you," he says.