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

[thelittlemerman]

[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)

Comments

[falsify]

"Oh," Eames' lips quirk into an impressed smile as he leans back a little on the barstool. It's not a kind expression, but Eames isn't a kind man. It's more amused by the less than selfless nature of her intent that she's so openly shared. So is it the humans she wants to protect, or someone else she wants to hurt? After a moment's consideration, Eames decides it doesn't matter. Not right now, at least.

He finishes the last of his drink, setting the empty glass on the bar and gesturing to get the bar tender's attention for another before he speaks, "put someone else in the line of fire for a change, hm? I think you may still have set something of an insurmountable task for yourself."

[whatmatters]

Something about his pleased expression makes Ringer feel sick. She suddenly remembers that it's a fae she's talking to, and an Unseelie one at that. It won't do to forget her place or his intentions and even honesty has its limits with such a man- creature. She takes another sip of her water, leaning against the bar, not looking back to the man until he speaks again.

"I think not," she replies lightly. If Ringer was working alone, then yes, absolutely. But that's the point of working with Faolan and Hillingdon, of making alliances and common enemies. It's not a perfect system, but backing the right horse has the chance to help steer the losses into better sectors. "But I can't know until it works."