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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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"Something different."

Ringer crouched down at the edge. After a moment's hesitation, she decided to take the safest way that she could think of, even though it meant trusting this probable vampire. She took firm hold off the roof's edge with one hand, slid from the roof, and then caught the edge with her other hand as well. Once fully dangling with both hands, back toward him, it was easy to drop to the ground not far below. It was tragically mundane, all things considered, excepting the gun he might have seen tucked away in its holster.

She turned to face him once safely on the ground, stretching one ankle than the other. If nothing else, the guy seemed like decent conversation. Either the banter was all joking and he was entertaining or it wasn't and he was someone she should be aware of. Win-win. "Not at all. You look pretty good for your age. How ever do you manage it?"

He caught the brief sight of the gun and gave a brief sneer. Humans were always so attached to their little toys. Thought that they kept them so safe. True, with silver or cold iron bullets, it could hurt him, and hunters did often pack such things, but still. Guns were so... inelegant.

He pretended to think over her comment, a small smile playing over his face. "I suppose the traditional answer would be bathing in the blood of the innocent. But that would be so very disgusting." His shudder was not entirely feigned. "Perhaps I will be forced to admit I'm not three hundred after all."

Guns were Ringer's bread and butter. They were the reason she earned the name and had saved her life on more than one occasion. All things considered, she was a relatively new hunter and one not entirely familiar with how to go about finding the supernatural types or attacking them. Having a gun on her meant she was safer in her mind and, occasionally, in practice.

"The innocents are innocent for a reason. Using them as a face cream would be.. upsetting." The brief pause suggested it would be a lot more than upsetting. If he was human, she was pretty sure he would be getting bored of her soon. Her small talk needed considerable improvement. Without thinking about the cliche connotations, she asked with sincerity, "Do you come here often?"

Tybalt's laugh was full throated, and full of genuine amusement. "Seeing as I've only recently returned to London, it would be very odd indeed if I did." He turned his head slightly to glance at the theater's wall. "But I most likely will, in the future."

He turned his attention fully back to her. "Do you?"

It took a moment of thinking and replaying the conversation to realize what it was he might be laughing at. Ringer's expression shifted vaguely to one of embarrassment and she immediately hardened her tone ever so slightly to compensate. It wasn't supposed to be like this and his laugh, while charming, did little to reassure her of her abilities to hold a normal conversation.

"I've passed by a few times," she replied plainly. The theater was central enough that she had found reason to be in the area. Seeing a play inside, however, was one of the many things she had never gotten around to. "You were away?"

"I have been living in America for the past few years," Tybalt admitted with a slight nod. He noticed the hardening of her tone, and smiled to himself, though this time he kept his amusement out of his expression. "Though I was born here. It is good to be returning home." He did let himself smile a bit at that. It was true, and it wasn't like he had to be entirely forthcoming about exactly how long he'd been away.

He tilted his head towards the theatre slightly. "You really should catch a show sometime. I've heard truly wonderful things about the troupe."

"I've been meeting a lot of people coming from America lately," she replied idly, not giving too much thought to it. It was not as if all Americans were supernatural in nature. Instead, she gave a light shrug, settling back to something more casual. As casual as Ringer could be. "Why were you there?"

"Do you.. want to walk? If you don't have somewhere to be." It was an awkward sort of request. She mainly hoped that walking would provide enough distraction that it would be easier for her to maintain a conversation. Certainly it couldn't be any worse than standing here as if she belonged. With little investment, she also wouldn't be hurt if he rejected the offer. "You're not in the troupe, are you? That would be too cliche."

"Just for a change of scene, I suppose," he said with a shrug. It wasn't any of her business his real reasons for leaving. Or for coming back, and he had no intention of sharing that information.

Tybalt pushed off from the wall and began strolling slowly down the street, figuring that should be answer enough. But he kept his pace slow, giving her a chance to catch up. "I'm no actor," he said when they'd walked a bit down the narrow street. "I'd wanted to be, once, but then I grew up, and there were far more important things to do."

The hunter slid her hands into her pockets, hustling for a second to catch up with him and then easily meeting his pace. A change of scene usually meant people feeling stuck in a rut or those with a need to escape for criminal reasons. Of course, she might also be reading into it and that was assuming he was even answering honestly. Whatever the case, she could at least take the cue that the topic was mostly a dead end and let it go.

"Something more important than acting? The tabloids would be scandalized." Her usual dry tone fit her natural sarcasm better than small talk. "What did you find to keep you busy?"

"Oh indeed," Tybalt replied, his tone as dry as hers. "I suppose we must make sure they never find out." Sarcasm really was her preferred tone, especially when dealing with humans. Made it so much easier to avoid telling them anything of actual importance. And some even thought it was clever.

He weighed a couple of possible answers to her second question before finally saying. "I went into... management." Before she could ask anything more prying he flashed a smile and asked, "What about you? What do you do that has you skulking around alleyways?"

"Management is definitely more important that acting. Depending on what you manage." The question was implied. Ringer was perfectly capable of holding multiple conversations at once and had every intention of doing so unless his clues to drop the subject became more blatant. She wasn't the type to keep things one-sided, however, and thus easily returned with her own response. "I'm less industrious. I'm a student with a summer break and thus too much time. Watching people has always fascinated me. Especially when they don't think they're being watched. You can learn a lot about what makes a person human."

"So a student of books and a student of humanity. How fascinating" he said with a low chuckle. Let her think he was amused at his own statement. In reality he was far more amused at the implication he was human.

Her more implied question was a bit harder to answer, and he took the time to think it over. Finally he smiled to himself. "It was a family business. A sort of charity organization in fact. Helping provide for the less fortunate."

It was hardly impressive and she wondered at what he might find amusing about it. Truth be told, she made the remark as a test and still wasn't entirely convinced that he was as ordinary as he purported to be. It was nearly impossible to tell, as she was slowly learning, despite her efforts. She also recognized that it was equally likely, perhaps more so, that he was as he claimed and she shouldn't treat this as an interrogation.

"Magnanimous." It was also possible that he was a rich and spoiled kid, primarily unemployed, who enjoyed mocking those he saw as below him. Which might include her. Ringer preferred to hide her wealth where possible. She noted, "Past tense?"

Edited (icon) 2015-07-19 02:13 (UTC)

"There's more to it than that, but it gets into terribly boring details very quickly." He flashed her a quick smile. He was hardly going to go into the details of his role with some random human girl. "But I have always believed it's the duty of those blessed with more to look out for those who can not take care of themselves." Cats, and by extension cait sidhe were often considered selfish creatures, and in fairness they were, most of the time. But after his adopted father's poor example, Tybalt firmly believed it was a King's duty to look after his people.

"I'm the only family left right now," he said with a shrug. Which was true as far as it went. He had no blood kin, though that rarely played a part in cait sidhe succession.

"Do you use that line on all the girls?" She asked dryly, though there was a hint of amusement in her expression. It was certainly a good excuse to avoid talking about himself, whatever its reasoning, and would probably seem impressive to a lot of people. For her, it was a good philosophy, but one rarely followed through so selflessly as the individual claimed.

"It's good to take care of those who aren't able to take care of themselves," she added, more seriously. It was part of what she did as a hunter, trying to protect humans who didn't know about the supernatural. Without much thought, she added, "I'm the only one left in my family too."

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