undergrounds | (no subject)

1. Arrival in London - Open

No one had noticed a cat slip onto the Tube at Heathrow Airport. A few perhaps noticed the cat get off at Blackfriars, but said cat quite obviously didn't care. He made his way up to street level and darted into an alleyway at the first opportunity. And, a few moments later a man walked out, brushing imaginary dirt off the sleeves of his shirt. He looked around and headed off down the street towards the reconstructed Globe theatre. Unlike the most of the people heading for the theater, he didn't join the press at the box office. Instead, he worked his way around the outside of the building, occasionally trailing his fingers along the theatre's outside wall.

"You're not the same, old friend," he said quietly. "But perhaps you have the same soul."

2. At the Unseelie Court - Closed to Court members

Tybalt had presented himself as was proper, and swore fealty to the Unseelie Court. Mostly because there apparently wasn't much other choice here. But for all London had changed in the centuries he'd been away, it was almost nice to see that at least the fae hadn't changed. He'd just gotten spoiled in San Francisco, where the Seelie and Unseelie Courts were weak enough that he'd been able to declare himself and his independent of that little war. But things were different here, and he would adapt. What he needed to do now was meet the other members of the Court, and get a better idea of how things really worked around here.

3. Taking in the local culture

Unlike a lot of his fae brethren, Tybalt was perfectly comfortable in the mortal world. Sometimes more so than in the Other Realms, truth be told. Not that he had any particular affection for mortals on the whole, except in how they might benefit him. But they could be beneficial, he knew. Like the young woman who was currently handing him his basket of fish and chips. Terrible food, health wise, but oh so delicious. There were small tables outside the shop, and he claimed one for himself where he could watch people pass by. He fastidiously wiped his hands on one of the brown paper napkins, and began to eat his food, all while watching for anything interesting to happen.

4. Wildcard!

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"Any should, not all do." Said as a neutral statement, since in fairness, he knew little about the current state of the London Courts. Not that he cared much. In the end he would look out for himself and for his, just as he always had.

"Dangerous entertainment," he commented, tilting his head slightly to one side as he looked at her. While his tone was cautious, there was a hint of... curiosity perhaps? in it. He gave an overdramatic sigh. "Too dangerous at the moment, for one such as myself who is far too new to these modern courts."

"I have found," She murmured as though savoring the thought, "that those who neglect their vassals eventually find themselves stripped of their powers." She might have done that to more than one of her brethren. A vassal could become quite loyal if a savior came along.

"If it is not dangerous, it is hardly entertainment at all." She pointed out, and watched him sigh with a bit of a flair of the dramatic. "Mmm, such a shame. Though I doubt it will take you long to land on your feet, Sir Tybalt. I look forward to seeing what you make of London."

"Eventually," Tybalt agreed. "Though that can be a long time coming, and is rarely much comfort to those suffering now." He shrugged. "But that is neither here nor there at the moment."

He offered Mab a smile. "Oh certainly. But there are degrees of danger, and I do prefer those degrees that are less likely to result in..." He hesitated. Cait sidhe might be better acquainted with death than most fae, but that just meant it was more important to talk around it with other fae. So he fell back on old metaphor. "Result in the end of my dance."

"Not at the moment, no." She agreed.

This was an area they clearly differed in. Mab seemed to be much less concerned with death. She had been around for a ridiculously long time and was hard to finish off if you weren't using cold iron or silver. His was such a poetic response. The end of his dance. Mab tilted her head a little in appreciation. "Mmm, if you find yourself in such dire straits I would be pleased to lend some aid." The price was steep, but he would know that. Mab had one ability that could very well save his life should he decide it was worth it. It never hurt to plant that little seed for possible harvest later. "It would be a shame for you to dance your last."

Again, Tybalt shrugged. He would die someday after all and probably as his father had - at the claws of another Prince of Cats who wished to become King. It was just the way of the cait sidhe. One of the things that set his kind slightly apart from their fae brethren. But he had no desire to really discuss it at the moment, so instead he gave Mab a slight bow. "Your offer is generous, my lady. It is my greatest hope that I never need to take you up on it."

She inclined her head and her smile was knowing. "Welcome again to the court, Sir Tybalt. May your time here be just as exciting as you need. It will be interesting to see the Cait re-establish." She did not reach to touch him but it was a near thing, Cait could be as touchy as their mundane brethren about such things.

Tybalt was old enough, and secure enough in himself to not be as touch shy as some of his kith, but he also appreciated that Mab didn't assume she had that right. A point in her favor. Something to keep in mind.

"Thank you, my lady. I think London has been too long without a Court of Cats."