Lancelot du Lac (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
knightscode) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2016-01-14 02:44 am
knightscode) wrote in undergrounds2016-01-14 02:44 am
Entry tags:
GUARDIANS GONE WILD [ Active/ Open ]
i) The Build up [ Locked to Faolan ]
It was a normal enough Monday for Lancelot. Or, it had been. He'd gotten up, gone to work, caught up on things he'd missed, answered some emails, dealt with a minor fracas near the station when someone turned suddenly to jump lanes after realising they were in the wrong one and scraped another person's car.
He'd not even been home that long when the door went, still half sipping water to try and calm a headache threatening again and playing with Lily. It isn't really late, truth be told, but part of him really just wants to grab something to eat and relax. Whenever his doorbell goes it rarely results in him relaxing.
Lancelot sips a little more water, the doorbell goes again.
Defeated he sighs, recaps the bottle he was drinking from and accompanies Lily to the door.
When he opens it his expression does something complicated, a flip from 'oh' to 'ah' to 'hang on, why are you here?'
"Faolan?" he manages, and inwardly hopes this isn't about to begin another round of Faolan angrily beginning a tirade followed by Lancelot's headache worsening and furniture moving.
ii) The Jail Bird
In truth, Lancelot isn't exactly worried. He isn't exactly worried because he hasn't done anything wrong. He knows he hasn't. He has a lot of witnesses who'd testify he was, in fact, at work or shopping or some-such rather than wherever he was meant to be murdering people.
The problem is the fact that people have, equally, given an exact description of him doing these things.
Magic.
It's the only answer, and Lancelot knows less than he'd like about magic.
He certainly doesn't know about any sort of magic that would somehow enable a person to look like him and do this, nor does he know why anyone would. To discredit him? Or Daybreak? Or the Night Council? There's no shortage of options, but that's hardly a reassuring thought.
Luckily he gets the impression Sylvia is fairly sure he isn't lying, but equally she isn't just letting him out. He might not be lying, but -- unsettling as it is -- that isn't proof he hasn't done something awful unwilling.
So here he is, Lancelot -- Metropolitan Police Office and Guardian for the Night Council. In jail. He wishes he at least had something to pass the time while he waits it out. After all, surely someone will catch the true culprit soon? Surely they will find evidence it isn't him?
He's mentally in the middle of making a list of things to consider, people he may have upset, factions who might dislike him etc when he hears someone approaching. Lancelot himself is a little tired and dishevelled but he perks up at the sound of footsteps, inwardly hoping for news, and stands to approach the bars of his cell.
iii) The Free Bird [ Pick a location to meet the fae! ]
The fact that Lancelot was a reasonably harmless, friendly sort of person makes the fae's job a whole lot easier.
Few people were rarely scared of Lancelot, and few suspected him of anything sinister. He had plenty of friends in and out of the supernatural community, and although that did mean suspicion raised quickly once it began work it also meant that people were loathe to believe the rumours.
If anything, it was beginning to wonder why it hadn't done this before.
The fae's glamour was perfect. It looked like Lancelot, its voice was Lancelot's voice and its smile was his smile. It was missing his dog, but it always had a reason if anyone asked. It helped that Lancelot always had an aura of fae magic about him too, which meant that the fae's own magic did not seem out of place to those who could sense it.
Things are a little trickier once the real Lancelot is arrested, of course, but that's neither here nor there. It can brazenly tell people that -- oh, no no! It wasn't him who was arrested! There's a fae about, you see, that's made itself look like him. Good job they caught it!
It's trickier with people who know Lancelot well, but an easy smile often disarms them quickly.
When that doesn't work, there's always a little good old fashioned violence to escape.
iv) The Chase [ Late on Wednesday onward ]
Lancelot is entirely glad to be out of jail, but entirely less glad that the thing is still out there causing trouble.
Still, he's a Guardian -- thankfully he hasn't been fired. Which means it's his job to keep the peace, and he absolutely intends to keep the peace by stopping the creature pretending to be him.
He arms himself, dresses casually with a stab vest hidden under his shirt and begins to try and track it down.
The problem now, however, as much as the fae itself is the people who met it. It's done all sorts of violent, awkward and incredibly strange things in his name -- including starting a tab at a few places. Lancelot secrets away a silver knife as he picks his way through the streets. His headaches have begun to slowly clear, at least, and now that he finally understands what they are it helps. If he can sense magic, then maybe he can sense the fae before he sees it. Maybe that will help him track it.
Which means he's so focused on trying to sense things (which, unfortunately for him, he isn't very good at yet) that he nearly bumps into someone in the narrow alleyway -- lifts his hands quickly in supplication just in case they're angry about it.
"Ah -- forgive me, please, I was miles away."
[ ooc; Plot details here if you missed it! ]
It was a normal enough Monday for Lancelot. Or, it had been. He'd gotten up, gone to work, caught up on things he'd missed, answered some emails, dealt with a minor fracas near the station when someone turned suddenly to jump lanes after realising they were in the wrong one and scraped another person's car.
He'd not even been home that long when the door went, still half sipping water to try and calm a headache threatening again and playing with Lily. It isn't really late, truth be told, but part of him really just wants to grab something to eat and relax. Whenever his doorbell goes it rarely results in him relaxing.
Lancelot sips a little more water, the doorbell goes again.
Defeated he sighs, recaps the bottle he was drinking from and accompanies Lily to the door.
When he opens it his expression does something complicated, a flip from 'oh' to 'ah' to 'hang on, why are you here?'
"Faolan?" he manages, and inwardly hopes this isn't about to begin another round of Faolan angrily beginning a tirade followed by Lancelot's headache worsening and furniture moving.
ii) The Jail Bird
In truth, Lancelot isn't exactly worried. He isn't exactly worried because he hasn't done anything wrong. He knows he hasn't. He has a lot of witnesses who'd testify he was, in fact, at work or shopping or some-such rather than wherever he was meant to be murdering people.
The problem is the fact that people have, equally, given an exact description of him doing these things.
Magic.
It's the only answer, and Lancelot knows less than he'd like about magic.
He certainly doesn't know about any sort of magic that would somehow enable a person to look like him and do this, nor does he know why anyone would. To discredit him? Or Daybreak? Or the Night Council? There's no shortage of options, but that's hardly a reassuring thought.
Luckily he gets the impression Sylvia is fairly sure he isn't lying, but equally she isn't just letting him out. He might not be lying, but -- unsettling as it is -- that isn't proof he hasn't done something awful unwilling.
So here he is, Lancelot -- Metropolitan Police Office and Guardian for the Night Council. In jail. He wishes he at least had something to pass the time while he waits it out. After all, surely someone will catch the true culprit soon? Surely they will find evidence it isn't him?
He's mentally in the middle of making a list of things to consider, people he may have upset, factions who might dislike him etc when he hears someone approaching. Lancelot himself is a little tired and dishevelled but he perks up at the sound of footsteps, inwardly hoping for news, and stands to approach the bars of his cell.
iii) The Free Bird [ Pick a location to meet the fae! ]
The fact that Lancelot was a reasonably harmless, friendly sort of person makes the fae's job a whole lot easier.
Few people were rarely scared of Lancelot, and few suspected him of anything sinister. He had plenty of friends in and out of the supernatural community, and although that did mean suspicion raised quickly once it began work it also meant that people were loathe to believe the rumours.
If anything, it was beginning to wonder why it hadn't done this before.
The fae's glamour was perfect. It looked like Lancelot, its voice was Lancelot's voice and its smile was his smile. It was missing his dog, but it always had a reason if anyone asked. It helped that Lancelot always had an aura of fae magic about him too, which meant that the fae's own magic did not seem out of place to those who could sense it.
Things are a little trickier once the real Lancelot is arrested, of course, but that's neither here nor there. It can brazenly tell people that -- oh, no no! It wasn't him who was arrested! There's a fae about, you see, that's made itself look like him. Good job they caught it!
It's trickier with people who know Lancelot well, but an easy smile often disarms them quickly.
When that doesn't work, there's always a little good old fashioned violence to escape.
iv) The Chase [ Late on Wednesday onward ]
Lancelot is entirely glad to be out of jail, but entirely less glad that the thing is still out there causing trouble.
Still, he's a Guardian -- thankfully he hasn't been fired. Which means it's his job to keep the peace, and he absolutely intends to keep the peace by stopping the creature pretending to be him.
He arms himself, dresses casually with a stab vest hidden under his shirt and begins to try and track it down.
The problem now, however, as much as the fae itself is the people who met it. It's done all sorts of violent, awkward and incredibly strange things in his name -- including starting a tab at a few places. Lancelot secrets away a silver knife as he picks his way through the streets. His headaches have begun to slowly clear, at least, and now that he finally understands what they are it helps. If he can sense magic, then maybe he can sense the fae before he sees it. Maybe that will help him track it.
Which means he's so focused on trying to sense things (which, unfortunately for him, he isn't very good at yet) that he nearly bumps into someone in the narrow alleyway -- lifts his hands quickly in supplication just in case they're angry about it.
"Ah -- forgive me, please, I was miles away."
[ ooc; Plot details here if you missed it! ]
ii
Lacy Brook
head writer
tomorrowshistoryblog.wordpress.com
020 7946 0550
How she got in, well, that's anyone's guess. But she's here, a member of the press, complete with her phone, which she's just fished out of her pocket.
"I'll go away if you say no, but-- I don't suppose I could get an interview? Get your side of the story out there? Don't worry. No one outside of the supernatural community can access it."
no subject
"An... interview?" he echoes, uneasy. "Forgive me but... I'm not so sure I would be allowed to."
How did she get in here? He's fairly sure Sylvia wouldn't want someone interviewing a Guardian accused of going on a rampage.
no subject
All of it true. Not, perhaps, the whole truth, but--
"I'd like to let you speak for yourself."
no subject
For this? For this interview? To come down here at all? To write something about one of her Guardians under investigation?
Lancelot is visibly uneasy to say the least, unsure where he stands both in terms of the investigation and the woman in front of him.