undergrounds | CROYDON 2: CROYDON HARDER

Entry tags:

CROYDON 2: CROYDON HARDER

January 7th-14th: Once the purge really gets going, it's pretty obvious that Croydon's being targeted disproportionately. It's less of a surprise than some might like; the area's a source of numerous bruised egos - Eames' included - but more than that, every side involved clearly wants to put this to bed. Daybreak, unfortunately, has a lot more backing and more official channels to go through to get the upper hand. Numerous people are taken in by the Night Council on whatever charges of using dark magic can be used against them, and it leaves a not insignificant dent in their power. Clever, one might suppose, reduce the numbers before Daybreak - Norrell, let's all be honest here - send the bodies in to take the area. Eames has the fae on his side and the people in his employ do what they can to undermine this though. Moving people out of the area quickly and under the noses of the Council guardians sweeping the area, goods hidden, the odd person stored away safely in Faery. More than anything, it's a move of solidarity with those living here. A gentle suggestion that those witches, fae, metas, etc. in the area can trust him and his to look after them.

January 15th: This is a losing fight, and Eames makes it clear no one is obligated to join in before things start. There's too many extenuating circumstances to have a hope of keeping their hands on Croydon. Still. Eames is too frustrated with the current state of affairs to let it go easily, and he amasses a small militia of the like-minded. They may not be able to keep Croydon, but they can make it difficult as hell to take. The plan is simple: In the early hours of the morning, before the sun has risen, they'll attack. The intent was to avoid bloodshed last time, but this time the intent is clearly to kill as many as possible. By the evening they'll have withdrawn, and Norrell can have fun explaining to the families of the deceased that they died for a shithole like Croydon.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Ex-excuse me? Sir?" Annie raises a hand in a half-formed sort of wave, waiting for a sign before approaching him. "I'm- I'm Annie. I wanted to go over evacuation plans with you?" She held a small folder in one arm, cradled against her chest. She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear, and tried to stand up straight, wanting to make a good first impression.

"I have a few routes drawn up... I thought maybe we could alternate? To avoid patterns, maybe?" She gestures to the folder again. "That is- I mean, if you're free?" She was awful at this sort of thing, presenting plans. Before, while timid, she'd still be able to properly speak. Now it was more difficult to present such things to people she didn't know. Once she got more at ease around someone, then it was different.

"Sir?" Eames echoes, almost too surprised by being addressed as such to respond straight away. God he hopes it's just this woman and people aren't going to start calling him sir now. That would literally be a nightmare.

But he registers her nerves and offers a gentle smile. Evacuation plans are useful, and Eames would rather not put her off before he gets the chance to see if any of her ideas might pan out. "Of course," he nods, "Annie. What do you have in mind?"

Nope, just Annie, with her perpetual politeness.

At his bidding, Annie opens up the folder and lays it down on the table in front of them, pulling out a few maps, unfolding them. Each one is a thin sheet of tracing paper, made so they can be layered on top of one another except for one: a map of the area of Croydon.

"Each sheet is, ah, a different method of evacuation. Color-coded, so all taxis are yellow, tube is red, walking is blue, you'll uhm, see. So that way they're useless if they're separated. The maps, I mean. They won't know what they mean without the key and don't have any solid plans. Just parts of them." She glanced up briefly at Eames as she started to explain the way she'd set it all up. "Sorry if this is too much- I just, ah, I want to get this right." There's such earnest in her voice. She wants to get this right. For innocent people, for the Seelie courts, but mostly to prove to Finnick something that he would never ask her to prove. To prove that she was still capable, just like anyone else.

Clever. Eames nods and smiles at her, seeming as though he might actually be a tolerable person. (He's not, but he knows how to pretend.)

He makes a soft noise indicating that he's impressed by her forethought and points toward one of the sheets. "And what about the routes themselves?" He asks, because it doesn't really matter if the maps would be useless to anyone else if the routes don't work.

Woah. That smile- Annie blushes, despite herself, ducking behind a curtain of untameable red hair.

"I've run them myself, a few times." She says it with pride, though she can't help but think he'll just shoot them down. "They all bring us to Fae territory." So that way they were nearly guaranteed safety.

He's listening carefully, and takes one of the sheets to lay it over the map and check the routes. She's run them herself, so that's confirmation they at least work and go where they need to, but that's only half of assessing how feasible they are.

Okay, Eames takes a pencil and starts going over the routes in earnest. He doesn't say much as he does, crossing off routes that don't work or are too risky with terse explanations. "Too close to Daybreak," "unreliable traffic," etcetera, etcetera. He doesn't actually cross many off, but he spends a long time looking over every sheet.

So they weren't perfect. She was young, even by human standards. But Annie didn't care. The criticisms fall on her open ears, and she pulls anxiously at the bottom of her hair, or starts to dig her nails into her arm as subtly as she can. She should have known- she'd lived here long enough that she should know the traffic patterns, even if she didn't drive herself.

It's hard to feel proud when you don't have something to be proud of. She resists the urge to snatch the papers back, but keeps her feet where they are, just behind and to the side of Eames as she watches him judge her work silently.

Either oblivious to Annie's anxiety or jusr uncaring, Eames continues checking the routes, flipping through them one last time before he straightens up and fixes Annie with another smile. "Good work," he says, and gestures back at the map, "takes a lot of stress off my shoulders, actually."

He's not usually so giving with compliments, but something about Annie makes him think she'd respond better to that than just 'thanks, bye.'

He was smiling again-! Odd. So odd. He'd basically just tore her plan to pieces. Caught off guard, Annie nods weakly. "Oh- uhm. Thank you-? I'll fix it. The ones that didn't work, reroute them. If- if you'd like, I mean, Mr. Eames." She looks at the laces on her oxfords.

Annie Cresta cannot take a complement.

"No, no," Eames waves off the offer with a dismissive hand, "you've given us more than enough to work with here."

He tilts his head to try and catch her eye, still smiling and friendly. It's... Exhausting. But one never knows how these things can pay off later. "How long did it take you?"

He catches the corner of her eye, and she blushes again. He's so nice. With an anxious giggle, she shifts from one foot to the other.

"Uhm- I don't know. I didn't really, ah, count-? I just started working on it when, uhm, when Finnick mentioned taking Croydon back." Finnick. Mentioning him has her smiling and actually relaxing for just a moment. "I started working on it then. A lot." She wanted to prove to Finnick she was totally capable.

"You know Finnick?" He raises his eyebrows in surprise and curiosity, sounding a little like Finnick's a great friend of his or something. In truth he finds the man a bit of a pain and assumes Annie must be a thrall, but better to hear it from her.

And just like that, she visibly perks up. He has that effect on her.

"Oh! Yes- I-" and then, bright as anything "-he's my boyfriend."

"Oh," is the response that gets, and it hasn't changed his assumption any. "I had no idea he was seeing anyone," he continues, "how long have the two of you been together?"

Annie's jaw drops just a little, her lips forming a perfect 'o' as she echos Eames' response. She looks down again. of course he didn't tell anyone about her. No, she couldn't have expected that. She wasn't even sure how close Eames and Finnick were.

"Uhm- a while now. I've never really counted. It seems silly, when you're dating a fae."

"Of course." Eames nods in understanding, though he would've thought most mortals clung to that sort of thing. Their time is so short, after all.

He shakes his head like he's suddenly realised something, "I'm sorry, it's rude of me to pry." And he can hardly keep her here so he can ask questions until she shares some useful information. Sooner or later she'd catch on.

It is short. Annie knows far, far too well. But counting that didn't help matters, not in her head. She didn't need more numbers and letters filling it up and making things even more of a hell.

"No- no, it's okay. I, ah- I guess I shouldn't be surprised. That he hasn't, ah, mentioned me." She shifts. He'd want to keep her protected as much as he could, because that was Finnick for you. "He's really really great. Sorry, you probably have other things to do. Don't need to hear about me and my boyfriend." Annie giggles, waving the subject aside.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

CROYDON 2: CROYDON HARDER

January 12th

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: self-injury

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject