undergrounds | GUARDIANS GONE WILD [ Active/ Open ]

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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! ]

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They had, yes. In the form of the death of whoever the fae had gotten to. But Faolan had done what he could and he has no reason to feel guilty for that which he had no control over.

He cannot help but raise his eyebrows at the other man's suggestion though. "Track it?" he repeats. It's a thought, of course, but. "Lancelot," he says carefully, "are you... Are you sure?" He glances around to make sure they are still alone, stepping closer so that he might speak more plainly. "Only a few days ago you still didn't have any idea what they were beyond headaches, and now you want to use them to catch a murderer?" He has to understand how risky this is.

"Well, if you have a better way to help track a fae I'll happily listened. I can't exactly turn this off, though. I'm feeling it anyway."

And if he can feel magic anyway why not try and make use of that? Why not try and focus on the feeling, see if it can be used practically? If it can be used to find and put a stop to his fae doppelgänger? Anything to stop this quickly.

Faolan frowns at him for a moment before he shakes his head. No, he doesn't have a better suggestion, not in the least. But he can't help but wonder if it isn't dangerous regardless. And maybe it is. What choice do they have, though? If Lancelot thinks that he might be able to track it, then it's the best lead that they've got.

So he nods. "Alright," he says. "Alright. Just. Be careful, yeah?" The fact that he'll be right there with him through it and thus able to keep a close eye and make sure he isn't getting himself into too much trouble probably has something to do with why he's so accepting of the fact as well.

"I have to find the fae either way," Lancelot points out. "And, well."

He hesitates, shifts his bag awkwardly as he looks at Faolan.

"I was... hoping you might help. If it's not too much trouble. I know it well be dangerous, of course, but -- you have a little more experience tracking things in general, and..."

Well, he'd rather not do it alone. Faolan may have offered to look into it, may have come to pick him up but he hasn't explicitly said that he'll help him catch the fae. Lancelot doesn't want to assume anything.

Faolan can't help but look surprised at that. At Lancelot's questioning. At his hesitance. Nor can he help but smile in response to it either.

"As if I would let you go alone," he says, reaching out to clasp the other man's shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring way. Lancelot's just spent the last few days in jail, and even before that he hadn't been in top form, not really. Faolan may not be as strong or as fast as the other man, but he's not without his resources, and he's going to do everything in his power to keep the other man safe.

"C'mon," he says, letting his hand drop awkwardly (rather unused to physical touch but feeling drawn to it, around Lancelot) and nodding towards the door. "We can stop by a cafe or something, if you're hungry. Pick up food on the way." They're going to want to get there sooner rather than later. Especially if there's a chance that Lancelot really can track this thing.

He drops his eyes at that, gives a self-conscious sort of smile as Faolan drops his hand away.

"All right. Maybe some coffee, and something small. Something I can carry with me. All the fae magic might set off my headaches again, so I suppose I should bring something to try and counteract it if I can."

Which, apparently, he is hoping coffee will do.

Faolan nods, his own smile widening slightly at the other man's response. "Of course," he says. "My treat this time, yeah? Whatever you like. You certainly look like you could do with a coffee, at least. They never do care about your caffeine levels once you've stepped on the other side of one of those cell doors," he adds, absently. Spoken like someone who knows from experience (which he does, for that matter).

He lifts a hand again to place on Lancelot's lower back and begins leading him out the door. "I'll have you know, your doppelganger might look like you, but if he was trying to impersonate you at all, he certainly hadn't done much research," he notes.

"Oh?" Lancelot lets himself be guided along, glancing across at Faolan curiously at this revelation. "Did it skimp on the bad jokes? Forget to call you grumpy?"

Which, in a way, makes it all sound relatively harmless. Especially when said fae has really taken a life. He squints up at the sky to judge if it looks like rain, checks the road for traffic before digging out his phone.

"They offered me a guard to come with me, I declined. I'm fairly sure I know this place anyway, and -- well, being stalked by a guard applies a strange sort of pressure."

Faolan glances at the other man out of the corner of his eye as he walks. As he explains about how they'd offered a guard. Please. As if Faolan weren't going to be sticking by his side through all of this anyway. All Sylvia needed to do was give the order to make it official. "I'll be your guard," he says, quirking a smile at the other man. "And you can be mine, yeah? There. No pressure required."

He glances down at Lancelot's phone, curious as to what he's doing, waiting for the other man to take the lead as he continues his explanation. "And no. Well. Yes. It did skimp on the bad jokes and yeah, it forgot to call me grumpy. It forgot to call me anything at all. It didn't even know who I was, and I got the feeling that it might not have understood who Lily might have been either." He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to give the other man a significant look.

Ahhh, yes. That does make it tricker to believe. After all, Lancelot is self-aware enoguh to know that he does talk a great deal about his dog.

"Most fae don't get along with animals easily," he supplies, "so I'm not surprised it wouldn't care about Lily. If all it wanted was to stir up as much trouble as it could in my name --"

Lancelot slows down suddenly, half in the middle of calling up a map, and frowns sideways at Faolan.

"... I wonder. I've been assuming this was all... a hit out at the Night Council, or Daybreak, or both. After all, individually I haven't much value but... well, the bigger groups are ones that the fae disagree with. Yet -- well... I hadn't considered... what if the fae was one who knew me... before? When I was younger? What if... it is some grudge from then, or something -- something I do not remember enough to fully understand?"

He glances aside at the other man, a curious expression on his face. "It could be," he supposes. "Though it didn't seem to care much about who it was wearing at the time. You may have just been..." He searches for the right words, shrugging slightly before just coming out with the first phrasing that comes to mind. "A convenient pretty face, really. Wearing you got him into a number of circles, supernatural and human alike. It knew enough to know that people seem to like you, but beyond that?"

He shakes his head. "I tried to get it to tell me what its plans were, but once it realized I'd figured it out it lost interest. And... We were in a cafe. I couldn't exactly apprehend him right there and then either," he admits, sheepishly.

He blinks at that, peculiarly caught out by the idea of his own lack of importance and --

"I suppose I should be flattered that I count as a pretty face, although I'm not so sure I am when it leads to all this."

Stolen identity, murder, arrest, all of it. He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh.

"The street it was last seen on is near Green Park. Assuming it isn't long gone to the other side of London we have a chance of getting there and finding it."

Faolan nods. They are in a hurry to get there, but if Lancelot's going to be tracking it anyway...

"A few minutes won't make that much difference," he says, nodding towards a cafe just down the road. "Tell you what. I'll get you a coffee and something you can eat fast on the go, while you make whatever arrangements you need to for Lily for the day?" He quirks an odd little knowing smile at the other man.

"We might be out for a while today. Who knows what we might find, at the end of the trail. And I'm sure you'll feel the better for it, yeah?"

Lancelot flushes slightly at Faolan's observation (yes, he had idly wondered what Lily was going to do all day) and lowers his eyes even as he nods faintly.

"If you don't mind," he says, and falls into step with Faolan as he turns toward the coffee shop. "Where is she today? Have you left her at mine, or...?"

Since he doesn't exactly know what Faolan has been doing to handle her. Is she at home? Is she alone? Is she alone in Faolan's flat? Should he be calling a sitter? Did Faolan already have a sitter?

Faolan shakes his head slightly to indicate that he doesn't mind at all. "Go right ahead," he offers. "And yeah, she's at yours. I thought about maybe taking her to my place, but. It's pretty far to go, to then wind up in an unfamiliar place, so I decided against it in the end. Better to keep her somewhere she knows. Besides," he adds, glancing sideways at the other man with something of a sheepish smile, "she refused to come with me when I tried as much anyway."

He scuffs his foot on the pavement in front of him, before glancing up at the coffee shop in front of him. "She did well otherwise, once she figured I wasn't going to kidnap her away anywhere. But she missed you, these past few days," he adds, looking back to the other man. "That much was plain." And she wasn't the only one, he wants to say, but he isn't sure whether that's admitting more than he should and so he holds his tongue on that matter in the end.

He smiles a little at that, awkward and shy in equal parts, because he knows he babies his dog ridiculously but... well, he can't help it.

"She's not used to being away from me for so long. She's a rescue dog, so probably nervous of being abandoned again. I can call someone."

He gestures with his phone slightly, tilts his head toward the coffee shop.

"Seeing if they've got a pastry or something? I can pay you back later."

"You'll do no such thing," Faolan says, raising his eyebrows at the other man, as if to suggest 'just try it, I dare you'. "Of all the things you've done for me, it's the least I can do for you in return to get you some coffee. Please. Let me handle this much at least."

He waits a beat, daring the other man to fight him on this, before he huffs out a laugh. "Make your phone call," he says. "I'll just be a few minutes." He grasps Lancelot's shoulder fondly for a moment as he passes him on his way to the front door, where inside he does his best to pick a pastry the other man will like, as well as order a coffee for each of them. He could always use a coffee himself after all.

He drops his eyes shyly again as Faolan brushes off his offer and grips his shoulder, watches him through his lashes as he walks back in before finally beginning to make a call. It doesn't take long, he does have someone who helps sit with Lily regularly, and a moment later he's pushing his way back into the shop to find Faolan again. He offers a half questioning smile (is he ready? Is there anything else?) and shoves his hands into his pockets as he paces over. He isn't about to grab anything until he's sure which is his.

"Ready?" he prompts, and takes lets out a long, slow sigh. Hunting fae isn't actually super fun but it's what they have to do now.

Faolan nods, turning to hand the other man a pastry already in hand. "Here," he says, "I hope you like danishes. It's about all they have left at this time of day." He turns to the counter as his name is called, thanking the worker and picking up both coffees before handing one to Lancelot himself. "It's nothing special. But there's cream and sugar at the counter over there, if you like. And you look like you could use the caffeine, if you don't mind me saying."

Faolan steps across to add a little cream to his, stirring it slowly before making sure to carefully fit the lid back on and turning back to the other man. "Can you walk and eat? I can hold the coffee for you until you're done, if you want."

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GUARDIANS GONE WILD [ Active/ Open ]

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