To be thus is nothing; (Bromley territory claim)

[occultdisciple]

Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
March 18th

Bromley. A beautiful borough that belonged in the hands of those mortal or formerly mortal. The fae? Were intruders. They had their own realm; there was no need for them to claim territory in this one.

So, the vampires were going to take it back.

The first day, it's a simple ebb into the territory. Beginning to push back against the fae. To try and drive them back into the Other Realm.


And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
March 19th

By the second day, the fae have responded. Hard and brutal. There are battles to be fought outside the sight of humanity. But there's power sparking, and some of it spills over.

Coward continues to fight, yes, and to lead his forces, but he also has to focus his efforts on keeping things at bay.


Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
March 20th

The battle is lost. Coward knows that.

Rather than risk too many of his forces on a battle that isn't able to be won, he orders the withdrawal. And oversees it personally, much as he's loathe to do so. It's frustrating, but it's what must be done.


No son of mine succeeding.
Aftermath

Coward is not proud of his failure, but he also can show Millicent the effort. These things happen, and he knows about it. He has his office open at Scotland Yard, his time available to the supernatural and human for all sorts of matters.

That he'll have to discuss about Bromley... he knows. But he's waiting for it.

Comments

EAMES | OTA

[falsify]

MARCH 18/19TH

God if there is one thing Eames is sick of, it's vampires sticking their fangs where they aren't wanted. A messenger has him in the area within hours, and he imagines the same is true of Finnick. They seem to be the go-to guys for all things fae in this realm as of late.

He arrives in a bad mood that almost sours the air around him, tired of these fights over scraps of land. Even more tired of having to wrestle with vampires and witches for it. But he comes all the same, armed with wooden ammunition and his illusions.

For his part, the instructions are simple. Push them back, push them out.

MARCH 20TH

The aid from Hillingdon comes as a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. The fact of the matter is, they don't have the presence in this realm to hold these territories on their own. (Yet another of Eames' many, many gripes with the present situation. "Let's take a bunch of territory and then fuck off to nowhere and leave Eames to deal with it on his own." Thanks guys. Fuck you.)

He watches the withdrawal, checking in as he always does after a dispute to make sure all is well. Cataloguing losses for the most part, but there's less than usual this time around. Eames'll have to consider a gift to thank Hillingdon, he has no idea why they helped and he intends to find out, but he'd also quite like them to know that the gratitude of a fae is something that can come in extremely useful.

For now, however? It's time to recuperate. Do the rounds, see who all made it through. Maybe buy a bottle of much deserved scotch and spend a week relaxing.

[youronlylaw]

James didn't ever think he'd be paying a visit to the Commissioner of the Police to offer his sympathies to his loss for the Islington Nest - the epitome of his own kind's sworn enemy. Everything was a little backwards these days it seemed. James wasn't any stranger to doing things that weren't popular.

Like keeping friends inside traditional opposition.

James stepped inside Cowards office with a grim smile and nothing else.

"My consolations."

[occultdisciple]

Coward's expression mirrors James's. The slight smile is there, but it's not a pleased one. Merely resigned. After all, he went against the fae. One win was remarkable, but this loss... Well, these sorts of things were to be expected.

"Thank you. I suppose it's to be expected. The fae are fierce opponents."

[youronlylaw]

"Not for long, if Ms. Redbright has any say in it."

Oddly enough, James didn't sound like he was as admirable of Sylvia Redbright's hold on London as his words were.

Sylvia Redbright could provide them an opportunity if they played their hand right... the only question was when was the opportunity going to rise?

[occultdisciple]

"Ms Redbright is mortal. The fae are not. This? Is nothing to them."

To him, it made sense. He was nothing compared to the fae, and, even to him, witches were short lived now. The fae would merely bide for a few years, maybe a decade, and wait to undo what Sylvia Redbright has done.

[youronlylaw]

James sighs. "Sometimes I ask myself why they're even here."

An honest moment. Though it isn't so much 'sometimes' as 'all the time'. It didn't really make any sense. The Other Realm was so much easier than here. At least, that was what he thought.

[specifiercity]

MARCH 19 (AM) / FAOLAN

It's the morning after the vampires' first push, and Arthur is knocking on the door to Faolan's office at Hillingdon House. He has a grave look on his face, but with his range of expression he could just have a minor annoyance on his mind. Either way he pokes his head in and sighs, making his mood clear right off the bat.

"You mind if I come in?"

MARCH 19 (PM) - MARCH 20 / OTA

Once Faolan's on board and all of Hillingdon's hunters have been contacted to help the fae beat back Islington, Arthur doesn't bother hanging back. He walks around with a gun loaded with wooden bullets, with some magazines of silver in his back pocket for some flair. Unless a vampire is actively attacking someone he usually shouts a warning, but in all other cases he is relentless and unapologetic.

One might think he was actually trained for this.

[falsify]

It is amazingly frustrating, the ways in which their paths cross sometimes. Not that Eames doesn't appreciate the help, because he does, but he'd really rather deal with Arthur without the added stresses of a vampire attack.

Eames hangs back for a little bit before he makes himself known, catching his breath under the guise of enjoying watching a few vampires get it, and he can tell Arthur's not in any danger here, but what better way to make an entrance than by shooting that last vampire dead before Arthur gets the chance? Because he's a helper, you see.

"Well," he steps forward toward Arthur, though his amused tone isn't reflected in his expression, "isn't this a surprise?"

[specifiercity]

Arthur looks over his shoulder in surprise when the vampire goes down before he pulls the trigger, but when he sees Eames approaching he relaxes a touch, putting the safety back on and slipping his pistol back in its holster. He looks down at the ground, out at the dead vampires, then back up at Eames with a smirk.

"Is it? You know how I feel about vampires."

[falsify]

"Your friends too?" Eames tilts his head, returning the smirk with one of his own. His gun's not going anywhere until he can be certain there's no vampires around, but he's relaxed for the minute.

"How'd you swing it?" Because there's no way a bunch of hunters came to help the fae out because they were feeling nice.

[reticence]

Faolan glances up at the other man's knocking and has to wonder at the sigh that he lets out, raising an eyebrow at it in question as he gestures the other man in. "Not at all. Here."

He sits back in his chair, setting down his pen and indicating the seat opposite of him for Arthur to take. He's obviously got something on his mind. Better out with it at the first. If it's something Faolan needs to deal with, he'd rather know sooner than later.

[specifiercity]

Arthur sits down, then looks across the desk at Faolan with a frown. There's a moment of hesitation as he decides how to approach this, but finally he just figures it's time to get out with it. There's not enough time to try and come at this from a tactical angle.

"The vampires made a move on Bromley last night."

[reticence]

Faolan raises his eyebrows at that. He knows how Arthur has been facing against the vampires in recent territory disputes from their previous conversations. He doesn't understand why it would merit him coming to speak to him here and now about it, though.

"That's fae territory, is it not?" he asks, in as neutral a tone as he can. He wants Arthur to get out whatever point he has before he really says anything one way or the other himself.

[dredefulchilde]

March 20, just after midnight

This is what Joscelin lives for.

He doesn't know how many he's killed. Not as many as he'd like to, but more than he's been allowed in over a century. His clothing is soaked with the blood of the dead and dying. For the first time in generations, he's drunk his fill of a human and never once had to worry about the consequences. Maybe he should ally himself with foolhardy political players more often. Coward's gamble in Bromley is the most exciting thing to happen to the Nest since Joscelin's own downfall...and if Coward loses it will be his head and no one else's. Perfect, really.

He feels the human whose throat he's just ripped into begin slump towards the ground, pulse weakening to a thread before finally going still. The child vampire lets gravity take care of the rest. Joscelin doesn't know or care who this human is--some sort of hunter, probably. He'd heard a rumor Hillingdon had gotten involved, which is perfectly fine by him. He's made it a longstanding rule to never drink fae blood; the potential for addiction is simply far too great. Better to have a steady supply of (mortal) would-be vampire killers to gorge himself upon.

Joscelin is so preoccupied with his own little sea of carnage that he initially doesn't notice as the tide of the battle begins to shift. Coward's made a tactical error in going against the fae, and it's vampires on the front lines who will feel it first.

Aftermath

It's nearly a full week after their humiliating defeat in Bromley that Joscelin comes to pay Coward a visit. He's always had a relatively expressive face; one of the curses of being eternally twelve is that it's harder for him to keep a stiff upper lip when his blood is up. This is one of those times. His whole small body is a barely contained explosion of rage, eyes shining with an anger that threatens violence at the slightest provocation. It's all he can do to keep his voice steady.

"Tell me I haven't bet everything on a losing horse."

[falsify]

Oh wonderful, a vampire child. Isn't that what everyone wants to deal with. If he cared any, Eames may give a thought to the hell of being locked in a child's body for centuries. Maybe consider letting the little thing have its fun before being pushed out with the rest of the vermin.

As it is, however, his main thought is how annoying this is. For all he knows, the kid could be millenia old, but to the world this is some kid who's maybe ten at a push. Regardless of how mired in blood and viscera this kid might be, it doesn't look good to onlookers when you shoot said child in the chest.

Which is why Eames, against everything he stands for, doesn't shoot to kill.

"Run along now," Eames says, satisfied he has the little vampire's attention. And though not a bit of his body language suggests anything other than total comfort with the situation, he still keeps a healthy distance. Can't take any chances with this sort of thing. "I'm afraid you'll have to find somewhere else to play."

[dredefulchilde]

Joscelin smells the fae seconds before he hears the gunshot. He dodges the bullet, unceremoniously dumping his latest victim to the pavement to give himself more room to maneuver.

His head turns, trying to find the spoiler of his fun, and to Eames's credit he's never looked less like a young child. His fangs are out, blood smeared across his face and eyes bulging with insane, homicidal joy.

"Such a sourpuss," Joss giggles. "Here to ruin my fun?"

[falsify]

"You can have all the fun you want," Eames shrugs, paying no mind to the body, the blood, or how fucking creepy this child is. "I just suggest you move it somewhere else before you end up with a chest full of ironwood."

Aftermath (with Coward plz)

[whatmatters]

It wasn't difficult to find that Coward was responsible for the big push to take Bromley, nor was it hard to discover that he kept a day job at Scotland Yard. It's a risk to visit him and expose herself, she knows, but Ringer's tired of always being two steps behind. If she can learn anything from the vampire, then the risk will be worth it.

She waits for the officer to announce her arrival to Coward and tell her she's alright to enter before stepping into the doorway. "Hi."

[constantprisoner]

[March 20]

[Thank God it's over, is all Sirius can think.

He's exhausted, but more from the worry about being recognized or noticed than any of the fighting. Technically he shouldn't be here. But loyalty had to go and get in the way. Hard to say when he'd started up with that again.

For now he's keeping to the side, hidden in his animal form and hoping to find someone from Hillingdon he can stick with. At least until he can make his own exit.]

Aftermath -- OTA

[hurtfew]

If pressed, Norrell would have to admit he had not put his whole focusing on aiding the claim in Bromley. It is not his claim, and he is distracted by this business of Abigail becoming Maiden. By everything it might mean. So he promises help, as he must when he owes Coward as such, but does not go about his usual extra lengths of rounding up spare hands and waving money under people's noses. He works his remote spells from the safety of his rooms, watches progress in a clear bowl of water and makes sure to provide cover where possible and animate up things to help -- shape weather to drive back fae.

There's more resistence then expected, which is bad, and he is surprised and guilty at first as they begin to lose. Then immediately enraged to hear why. Hillingdon! Hillingdon have turned, chosen to defend the fae! After all the money he has spent on them Hillingdon have turned.

He writes angry letters denouncing them, makes an effort to go visit Coward both to offer sympathies and to voice his own disgust at this action.

Then he retreats to consider how to handle this. Hillingdon he had just began to trust, but now this truly proves there are enemies on all sides. Visitors will find him particularly agitated, more so than usual.

[knowstheworld]

This claim had been Norrell's business, and since he had not asked for Childermass' aid in the attempt, he had not given it. There'd been other things to attend to, after all. Norrell's own personal business, for a start. It's not like he ran his own household -- that's what Childermass was for. Among other things. Many other things.

It had been just as well, for that left him free to step up and defend Daybreak when the fae had attempted to blindside them in Lambeth. And Childermass had stood for Norrell in that, defending Daybreak against the one-day 'raid' it was being called with a handful of others. He may not have been able to stop the children from being taken. But he had stopped the fae from taking the land. And that was what mattered in the end, wasn't it?

Apparently not, with the way that Norrell's been going on about the indignity of Bromley the morning after. Childermass stands silent, watching him angrily scratch out his opinion on paper. Anticipating the moment the other man will not be able to take it anymore and his internalized thoughts will erupt forth from his mouth. He knows from experience that it's only a matter of waiting.

[hurtfew]

"I should have known they could not be trusted," he says finally, proving Childermass entirely right. "Hunters work for the highest bidder. You advised me to befriend them, Childermass, and now look! I am betrayed and undermined at every turn. The Widdowson girl is Maiden, no thanks to you, Hillingdon interferes with our claims -- and the fae still attack us! What security do I have now? When Midnight witches rise to positions of authority where they might contradict me! When my allies turn on me, and others prove weak! It is quite clear to me that something should be done. The laws we have are not enough to control things. We must strengthen them further."

[knowstheworld]

Childermass holds his tongue on the fact that Norrell hasn't really done anything in the least to 'befriend' the hunters, as he says. Certainly, he has not tossed as many orders about as he might have. But how many orders would they have followed when they were no more than hired help in the first. But if it pleases the other man to blame him for his failings, then by all means. It's not as though it is anything out of the ordinary.

"And how would you propose that, sir?" he asks, in an attempt to test the water and see whether the other man has anything planned or whether he is simply lashing out because he feels he has been wronged.

[reticence]

MARCH 19th - OPEN TO HILLINGDON
After his conversation with Arthur, Faolan moves into action. He would bring it to Hillingdon, he had told the other man. Let them decide for themselves whether or not they would choose to participate in such an act, especially in defense of the fae, when for so long they have stood silent on the outskirts of the rest of the Underground's political disputes. But the fact of the matter remains. If the vampires win this, they will have more land. And through them and their alliance with one another, Daybreak will gain yet more power over the city. And Faolan for one would not stand for such unequal odds.

So he sends out a call, to all within Hillingdon. And the message is clear:

The vampires seek new territory in Bromley. Hillingdon has been called to stand against them. We assemble at the House, tomorrow morning. Will you fight with us?

And he waits to see just what sort of a response he will get. He anticipates that there will be some questioning to this decision, and he makes certain he keeps his office hours open for the rest of the day just for that.


MARCH 20th - OTA!!!
It's been a while since Faolan has participated in a territorial combat like this. Certainly since before he had become the Hillingdon Clan Leader. He's trying very hard to concentrate on the task at hand -- keep himself and all of his people alive. Chase the vampires out. Trying not to think about what a terrible idea this is for him specifically, as a Guardian on the Night Council. Trying not to think about how much trouble he's getting himself into. Sylvia probably won't be happy. Norrell... He's heard that Norrell is fighting on the opposite side so he'd better believe that Norrell's not going to be happy about this either. But he won't stand for it. Not for the expansion of the vampires, and not for the discrimination against the fae. Eradicate, that's the word Norrell had used for it. Anyone using a word like that needs to be put in their place, as far as Faolan's concerned.

He tightens his grip on the gun in his hand, ducking behind the side of a building as he does. It had been expensive, but packed with the right ammunition, it packs a mean punch. Crafted of silver, any bullet shot from it will incapacitate a vampire regardless of where it hits them. He doesn't have to be a good shot to make it count.

He's not planning on killing anyone today. He does shout a warning, and fires warning shots at them. He advises them to give up and leave while they still can. And to his surprise, the majority of those who he encounters do. It's the stronger, the older and more proud who are angrier and more foolhardy. As Faolan learns the hard way, his gun clicking on empty right around the time one of them rounds on him.

He swears, low and long under his breath, turning to run and find somewhere, anywhere for cover to bide himself enough time to pop the gun open and get it reloaded again.

[thelittlemerman]

MARCH 19/20

Finnick's posture is murderous as he roams Bromley the nights following the initial push from Islington. His back is straight and his head bowed as his eyes sweep every alley, searching for vampires and their allies, not looking to make any type of statement but just to remove them from the face of the planet. He only avoids crowded places because he has his trident in hand, ready to strike at any moment, but he stands back peering at groups of people crowded around the entrances of bars waiting for a vampire to make themselves known. He hates the wretched things.

Even the aid from Hillingdon doesn't do much to calm him. He checks in frequently with Annie and stays close to her in case she needs him, but otherwise his focus is on defending the fae, knowing she can put a wooden bullet in a vampire when she needs to. He's angry, not triumphant, when he sees that they've won. It's just another selfish move that the Night Council won't bother itself about despite the fact that fae died needlessly.