undergrounds | (open) hell is deep lord, but we're heading deeper

[With new lords come new excuses to party.]

[Some time on the 19th, the fae stage a takeover of the club fabric in Smithfield. Invitations are sent out to all the fae in London, touting the glorious coming out of the Lords of Rivers and Illusions, Seelie and Unseelie respectively. It's one of those times where fae of both courts just want an excuse to throw a party, and the invitation is all the notice said new lords get that they are going to be guests of honour.]

[It's a typical fae affair; the magic is heavy in all three rooms, one of which is decorated like a ballroom in Other Realm fashion. The food and drink served at the bar remains untouched by fae charms, but the fae presence itself seems to be intoxicating. Some of the activities happening in dark corners seem to be a little beyond what's regularly allowed at any reputable nightclub, but don't pay attention to that just enjoy the party.]

[If you manage to cause any trouble, a team of large fae is here to escort you out. You may have seen them faithfully guarding the door, sniffing out those who may want to cause harm to the high concentration of fae inside. Vampires can be let through if they have a fae companion with them, and otherwise all types of humans and supernatural alike are allowed in.]

[The party goes on for precisely 72 hours, and on the 22nd the party winds down and mysteriously disappears. The club is left a little cleaner than when it started, the staff left completely befuddled about what just occurred.] (x)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You order the lesser lords around now," she guesses. It's a good thing. Finnick's as good a fae as she's met and his being in more power should hopefully be a good thing for humans. Even if he continues to insist on supporting the Unseelie. "In your own Court or both?"

"No, no I am a lesser lord," he corrects her, good naturedly. Having grown up with the court politics, they come so naturally to him, and it's a little funny having to explain them. Of course no Lord of Rivers would be above a lesser lord.

"And just in the Seelie Court, though here it matters less. We work together to further the interests of both courts. At home the divide is far more pronounced."

"Mm," she acknowledges his correction. Ringer learned about the feudal system in school, of course, but the way the fae court operates is unfamiliar. All she knows is that there are levels of lords, some over others, and a king and queen at the top. But the way the courts are divided in one world and work together in another is more confusing and she doesn't like it much. "How's the fight with the witches?"

His expressions sobers significantly at that. That is why he's being honoured, after all, but he doesn't much like it as a topic of conversation.

"Still waging," he says. "They took Croydon, it's only a matter of time before they find something else to take from us."

Ringer's own expression tightens. She's not the most observant, but she can tell she hit a nerve of sorts and it worries her to see Finnick so tense. The last thing humans need is another war between the factions. The Unseelie fighting the Night Council is what got her involved in the supernatural in the first place. And not in a good way.

"How are you fighting back?" Because she knows they are. And hell, she might support it if it's not going to hurt innocent bystanders.

"I'm not sure yet," Finnick says. The fighting has left him worn and it tells in his voice. He surveys the party with a bored expression, maybe wondering which of these fae will sacrifice their own lives just for their ability to exist in London. Maybe it will be him next. He looks at Ringer next, frowning slightly.

"And if I did know I'm sure I wouldn't tell someone from outside the courts about our next move."

Ringer's expression darkens slightly, her brows pulling together as the edges of her mouth turn down. The politics continue to wear at her patience and it seems impossible to help an ally that has no desire to accept aid. Though, perhaps, it's ignorant to think she can actually provide any measure of help without the whole of Hillingdon behind her. Or, more appropriately, behind Faolan in the direction she agrees with.

"I see why Daybreak is keen to banish you," she replies after a moment as her expression softens again. "You lot do enjoy your own world."

Finnick turns to her, eyes sharp and his frown almost a snarl. Why should he tell this girl who isn't bound by honesty anything? "Daybreak is keen to banish us because they are afraid of what we can do," he says. "They forget that the Night Council harbours killers with every passing day that they allow vampires to stay in this city."

"Humans should be afraid. Witches are barely more than humans." She shrugs slightly. Ringer isn't put off by Finnick's snarl, but she tries to steer the conversation back to her point, to try to keep them on better terms. "The Night Council is the worst of all of them. But what can we do? Humans. We're almost powerless without allies and the fae don't want allies."

"Well it's hard to trust anyone these days," he says, and then his mouth curls into a smirk. "You're all so good at lying."

"So are the fae," she replies blandly. Ringer doesn't appreciate the insinuation that humans are somehow more evil or corrupt than other races. They're capable of terrible things, yes, but all of them are. Just as all of them have the capacity for good and for honesty. "I have no reason to lie to you."

Finnick laughs softly at her, shaking his head. "You don't know much, do you?" he asks, on the brink of clarifying what he means. He'll never be able to tell her a bald-faced lie. He's excellent at misleading people, and that's only because he had to learn out of necessity, but to say words that are untrue?

He digresses before he gets into the nitty gritty of it. The fact that you are magically bound not to tell lies is not something you run around telling people. "Besides, everyone has reason to lie. What reason could you possibly have to help us anyway?"

"Why not teach me instead of condescending?" She asks evenly, a genuine question. Ringer has spent enough time being mocked and patronized that she's able to handle it fairly well when she actively tries to, even if it annoys her. Especially the insinuations that she might represent the whole of her race. She's oblivious to what he's actually talking about.

"Right now, helping you is my best chance of survival." She admits easily. "And the best chance to minimize the collateral damage of dead humans."

Finnick sighs heavily, growing tired of this already. "Sounds like you're more interested in fighting against someone else rather than helping us," he say, "in which case there's no reason to tell you what our plans are, especially since I still don't trust you. You keep fighting your war and we will keep fighting ours. If our paths align we can help each other out."

Ringer understands. In spite of her goals and wants, against her better judgment, she silently agrees with his sentiments and can find no fault in his expressing as much. She nods, to acknowledge his speaking rather than in a form of concrete agreement, wondering if it's possible for humans to actually form an allegiance with any faction at all.

"Until then," she replies easily, dismissing herself without argument.

(open) hell is deep lord, but we're heading deeper

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