Abigail Widdowson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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undergrounds2016-02-03 01:51 pm
acrookedchild) wrote in undergrounds2016-02-03 01:51 pm
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Bríd Bríd, come in; thy bed is ready
Thig an nathair as an toll
Seven Sisters, Imbolc
The shop itself has been closed for the day. Still, invitations have gone out to everyone in the supernatural community but especially to the covens of both Circle Midnight and Circle Daybreak. Imbolc is a time for new beginnings, and Abigail Widdowson intends to make it one worth remembering.
(Headers for Imbolc here.)
Là donn Brìde,
Geap Manor, all February
Abigail Widdowson is now the Maiden of Witches.
It is a role, she is well aware, many would not see go to a Circle Midnight witch, especially not a Widdowson. But just as Sylvia is supposed to represent both Circles as the Mother, so is she as the Maiden.
So, letters have been sent.
Letters of welcome to every witch she knows of and every coven she's aware of. They demand nothing; there is no expectation of tribute or the like. Though she's sure that's happened in the past. Instead, it is a letter of invitation to call upon her at Geap Manor.
To meet her.
Ged robh trì troighean dhen t-sneachd
Westminster, mid February
"I placed my order ten minutes ago!"
It's a small inconvenience, really, and Abigail knows it, but it's just one of the many, many things that have been going wrong lately. Especially since she just got blown off for a meeting because 'an urget matter' had 'come up.'
But it's to be expected. Even with her new title, of course the Night Council really doesn't want to see her. They probably know what she's planning. What little idea has seized in the back of her mind. The less attention they pay to her, the harder it'll be, they know. But, well. She knows that the only way to get attention when someone is trying to ignore you is to get louder.
Right now, though, she's trying very, very hard not to take it out on the barista.
"Okay. Again. All I want is a hot chocolate. Shot of espresso. Shot of vanilla. Whipped cream. Please."
She even hands over her card again. Because if she has to pay twice? That's just fine.
Air leac an làir.
Enfield, late February
"Who's there?"
She can't avoid going outside, even after dark. As much as Abigail would like to just shut herself up in Geap Manor forever given everything happening, it's just not plausible. But her recent status of Maiden has made her a little more paranoid when out of the house.
Before, it was just the universe out to get her.
Now? She has actual enemies. Even if she's determined not to let them make her change her life. She hasn't forgotten that vampire Sylvia set on her. Sure, it had been in a controlled environment and just meant to scare her, but... It had done its job. And she didn't know how many more there were.
She needs to get silver, no matter what Unthank thinks about that. A small witch's amulet isn't much to really protect her, and she knows it.
All she has for protection is the phone in her pocket, and there's not much 999 can do about the supernatural.
Seven Sisters, Imbolc
The shop itself has been closed for the day. Still, invitations have gone out to everyone in the supernatural community but especially to the covens of both Circle Midnight and Circle Daybreak. Imbolc is a time for new beginnings, and Abigail Widdowson intends to make it one worth remembering.
(Headers for Imbolc here.)
Là donn Brìde,
Geap Manor, all February
Abigail Widdowson is now the Maiden of Witches.
It is a role, she is well aware, many would not see go to a Circle Midnight witch, especially not a Widdowson. But just as Sylvia is supposed to represent both Circles as the Mother, so is she as the Maiden.
So, letters have been sent.
Letters of welcome to every witch she knows of and every coven she's aware of. They demand nothing; there is no expectation of tribute or the like. Though she's sure that's happened in the past. Instead, it is a letter of invitation to call upon her at Geap Manor.
To meet her.
Ged robh trì troighean dhen t-sneachd
Westminster, mid February
"I placed my order ten minutes ago!"
It's a small inconvenience, really, and Abigail knows it, but it's just one of the many, many things that have been going wrong lately. Especially since she just got blown off for a meeting because 'an urget matter' had 'come up.'
But it's to be expected. Even with her new title, of course the Night Council really doesn't want to see her. They probably know what she's planning. What little idea has seized in the back of her mind. The less attention they pay to her, the harder it'll be, they know. But, well. She knows that the only way to get attention when someone is trying to ignore you is to get louder.
Right now, though, she's trying very, very hard not to take it out on the barista.
"Okay. Again. All I want is a hot chocolate. Shot of espresso. Shot of vanilla. Whipped cream. Please."
She even hands over her card again. Because if she has to pay twice? That's just fine.
Air leac an làir.
Enfield, late February
"Who's there?"
She can't avoid going outside, even after dark. As much as Abigail would like to just shut herself up in Geap Manor forever given everything happening, it's just not plausible. But her recent status of Maiden has made her a little more paranoid when out of the house.
Before, it was just the universe out to get her.
Now? She has actual enemies. Even if she's determined not to let them make her change her life. She hasn't forgotten that vampire Sylvia set on her. Sure, it had been in a controlled environment and just meant to scare her, but... It had done its job. And she didn't know how many more there were.
She needs to get silver, no matter what Unthank thinks about that. A small witch's amulet isn't much to really protect her, and she knows it.
All she has for protection is the phone in her pocket, and there's not much 999 can do about the supernatural.
no subject
"I have to choose my battles," she responds politely. "My morning coffee? Not an important issue."
no subject
Her polite retort leaves him guessing that no, she probably doesn't know who he is. And if she did she may not be as welcoming of his presence as she has been so far. It would be polite to introduce himself, but maintaining his anonymity for the time being is perhaps a little more tempting. He's hardly ever been a gentleman by anyone's standards anyway.
"Well, I am sorry for your troubles nonetheless, especially if they should arrive thus first thing in the morning," he concedes, glancing over at the barista to make certain he has gotten back to his job and is not paying more attention to them than he should, before back at Abby herself.
no subject
"Thank you," she replies. It's easy enough, honestly. Coffee might be extremely useful for making sure she gets up and keeps herself going during the day. "Most people wouldn't have even cared."
Small kindnesses were appreciated, especially with the battles she did have to pick and choose between. To have someone to help with the little surrenders? It was nice.
no subject
He inclines his head at her politely. "Most people are not worth either of our time," he responds, with the quirk of a smile in return.
no subject
"I'm not sure about that," she murmurs with a bit of a smile. Though it might be a little forced.
no subject
"You're young, yet, Miss Widdowson," he replies. "You will learn what I mean, in time."
He moves to put his hat back on again, before tipping it at her in turn. "Good day to you, miss."
no subject
She murmurs the word, bowing her head briefly. She feels, just for a moment, like she's talking to Unthank. Someone far older than her and someone who is something more. Is he fae? She can't be sure. But she can think it, certainly.
no subject
Inclining his head once more, Childermass makes his way from the coffee shop himself and sets off on his way down the street. Making note of where he had spotted her, and another to return to this location and determine whether it is a frequent stop of hers. It will be useful information to have, although for what purpose he cannot yet say for certain.