You're gonna go far kid (OPEN)

[youronlylaw]

Private for Sylvia

James wouldn't dareask Slyvia to meet him somewhere when it was him asking a favor of her. A pretty big one too. He makes an appointment to see her, like anyone else. Unlike anyone else however, James is trying for clever and inwardly is tempted to just turn around and walk away right now and pretend none of this ever happened to begin with.

But then it's his turn to walk into the dragon's den. So he smiles, small and polite. Not too sure how to address her, he starts simply - with a brief nod and a greeting of,

"Madame President."


Private for Norrell

The day just after meeting with Sylvia, James has arranged to meet with Norrell in his own Night Council offices- he's pulling out all the punches for this attempt at diplomacy and is practically willing to sell his own mother (practically) to get Norrell to help him.

He's never had any real dealings with a Daybreak witch and thus holds no opinions of them over anyone else. Abigail Widdowson, however, does hold his ear a little better thanks to their brief associations before they became anything of note in the political climate.

Knowing Norrell's opinions (how could anyone not?) on werewolves, James is going to approach this like he would any client and starts with a smile.

"I appreciate you making the time to speak with me. I understand you have much to do."


Private for Abigail

After Abigail's voicemail and ensuing conversation with her, James asked to meet her in person to discuss things in more detail at the restaurant they first met at. It's meant to serve as a reminder that they'd tried before to ally and found that neither had something the other would need or even want in an alliance - both of them being too low on the totem pole at that time.

And now look at them both. Maiden of Witches and a new Alpha.

"Miss. Widdowson." James greets her like he would an old friend when she is escorted to their table.

The same bottle of wine - at least the same vintage - is on the table as last time.

This time however, two glasses are already poured.


Private for Eames & Finnick

Though all of his meetings these past few days have been difficult, this is probably the one that demands the most from him. With the two Seelie Lords, James knows they've had their hands tied rather severely, and it wouldn't be advantageous to ignore that. His intent is to take Havering out of their hands while the election occupies a large portion of the public attention in the supernatural community - but if he can arrange a peaceful and agreeable takeover...well, he'd rather try and say he made the attempt before taking action.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, gentlemen."

James has asked to meet them both in their own territory - specifically Bromley, near the border of Greenwich in a little cafe that is quiet and cozy. He doesn't anticipate having to make a hasty exit but if he has to, James would rather know exactly where he needed to go than wander deep into Fae territory and be in some potential danger.

He's reserved the backroom of the business for their purposes and has no traps or pack members to back him up. James does not anticipate this ending violently.

Drinking - Jolly Roger

What a week. James has decided to actually get willfully sloshed tonight and has visited his least favorite bar, the Jolly Roger. The only reason he's here is because Skip works here and knowing someone behind the bar means his glass is rarely empty - even if she wasn't here.

He's about halfway through his first glass when his phone vibrates angrily on the bartop and James looks at it like he wants to dunk it into his glass and forget about it.

"Can this election just be over?"


Settling pack disputes - Redbridge - first responder

Lupercalia was still managing to bite James in the ass two months later. The small but long lived pack that had hunted one of their older members to sacrifice to ensure a new year of young, activated wolves would take their place down and eventually lead him to James' door to plead for sanctuary.

As such, now that the festival was over, James went to the pack hoping that they would allow him to rejoin his family and live the remainder of his life in peace.

Apparently, that didn't go over well.

James can be found in a small park, bent over and leaning against a tree nursing what looks like a broken nose back into place as it slowly healed. There seems to be the remnants of bruises and cuts on his face and under his shirt - the only sign of them being the small pinpricks of blood that have soaked through his clothing and the small slashes in his shirt.

In short - he looks a mess.

As he straightens himself, James looks down at his jacket and notices that the seam of his shoulder has torn. This is apparently the straw that breaks his back as his face crumples for a moment and he mutters (loudly) a single, "Fuck."


WILDCARD
James can be found anywhere in the city you would like to encounter him, if you would like something more specific tailored to you - we can work that out, PP cupcakepantry or PM my journal!

Comments

[brightwitch]

It isn't often that anyone outside of her favoured factions gets to meet with Sylvia in her Night Council office. So this is indeed an honour. However, the man she's meeting is the new alpha of the East End Pack, and that just about makes him worthwhile enough to schedule an appointment.

Perhaps he's just here to introduce himself over a cup of tea. Then again, he did ask for a private meeting, so perhaps there's something more to it.

Sylvia's PA shows James into the office. Sylvia stands up when James enters, smiling at him from behind her desk.

"Mr Memon. Please, take a seat. Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee?"

[youronlylaw]

"Tea sounds excellent, thank you."

He didn't really care for a drink, but he was interested in making this as cooperative as possible. Tea would do just fine. James takes his seat across from her and despite the fact that he would love to make himself comfortable, his back is straight and rigid with forced poise.

"I trust your re-election campaign is going well?"

[brightwitch]

Sylvia nods at her PA, who hurries off to fetch them tea. In the meantime, she sits down to face him, clasping her hands.

"Very well, thank you." Which is the answer she'd give regardless of how well the campaign is going. "What can I do for you?"

[youronlylaw]

James nods, preferring to be practical with Sylvia instead of trying to win her over with charm and wit. This was business he was asking to do.

"I won't waste your time; I'm here for your support."

He quickly continues, hoping to instead win her over with a mutual dislike of the same group.

"My pack is uncomfortable with the Fae at our back door. I know you wish to see them gone and I am here to ask for whatever support you can offer to ensure that Havering does not stay in their hands."

Better to let it belong to werewolves than to the Fae, is what he's saying.

Jolly Roger

[protagonized]

Simon is nursing his third beer at the bar, hoping that Skip will show up. Their date the other night hadn't exactly gone well after he caught her dancing and he wants to apologize. In person. Somehow, he doesn't think a text message will do it.

But Skip isn't here and he's getting dangerously close to Sad Drunk mode. He's wallowing. Oh poor Simon, whose not-girlfriend isn't around and whose best friend is stuck in another country because his visa expired. Boo hoo.

Someone's phone buzzes loudly against the bar and he looks up suddenly, automatically reaching to see if it's his even though he knows very well that his is in his pocket. He looks over at the owner just in time to hear him curse the election. Even with the alcohol deadening his sense of smell, he can tell what the man is. Oh, a werewolf. Naturally.

"It's only another few weeks," he points out helpfully.

[youronlylaw]

"Cheers to that," James raises his cup in a quasi-formal toast and downs the rest of his glass quickly.

The grimace might tell Simon that he is not drinking because he enjoys it, rather because he wants to get drunk.

As James turns his head towards the voice that spoke up, he scents the air instinctively - at first picking up stale beer, sweat, and magic but then picking out a scent he knows well...

one that belongs to Skip's 'boyfriend'. And his indirect competition.

He looks, for a moment, like he places the boy but as he's never seen him before - only smelled him - he looks more like he's just trying to memorize the kid's face.

"Come here often?"

He tries not to sound too rude, and probably succeeds. Probably.

[protagonized]

The way the man looks at Simon is a bit unsettling. Simon's reasonably sure he's never met the man before, but his scent is vaguely familiar. The younger man chalks it up to the whole werewolf thing; he's met a few of them now and they really are all rather distinct.

"Not so much. A friend works here. Wanted to see if she was working tonight; guess not."

Why is this man so familiar? It's incredibly disconcerting.

[youronlylaw]

Suddenly a grin splits across his face and he laughs a little - because that's exactly what he was here for. The fact that it was the same girl made it extremely funny.

"Well don't worry about it too much. Maybe you'll get lucky tomorrow."

James flags down the bartender - a young man; metahuman by the smell of power on him - and orders another drink for himself and belatedly asks for a second of whatever Simon was nursing.

When the arrive, James holds his glass up in a proper toast this time.

"Better luck tomorrow?"

He thinks that works as a toast.

[acrookedchild]

"Mister Memon," she answered, reaching out to shake his hand.

How different their positions were now. Maiden of Witches and Alpha of the East End pack. She'd hoped to have better news, something certain. After their last conversation, it had been hopeful.

Now...

Well, her smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she sat down in her seat and happily took a sip of wine.

[youronlylaw]

"Been that kind of week, has it?"

He sympathizes. The election and past events of the last few months have put a strain on him that he hasn't experienced before. The weight of leadership is strange and slightly unwelcome, but the benefits therein more than make up for it.

[acrookedchild]

"It's been that kind of year," Abigail responds.

Being a leader is still something she's learning, but she's had a little more experience, at least. Not much. But she can relate to the feeling of that suddenly thrust upon someone. Even someone willing.

[youronlylaw]

"Cheers to that."

James only briefly raises his glass before drinking deeply from it. Luckily for him, being a werewolf didn't mean he couldn't get drunk.

Not that he was planning on immediately doing that tonight. Tonight they had business.

"So. Shall we?"

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick's still getting used to the idea of having to engage in negotiations, of being more than just a tool of his Court, but after his and Eames' meeting with Sylvia he's certainly not intimidated by the idea of meeting with James. He looks confident, if not a little cold, leaning back in his chair but shoulders still straight and posture still noble.

He has no idea what the wolf has in mind, but it seems that everyone wants to cut some sort of deal, ever since the fae started proving themselves to be capable in these faction conflicts. Finnick still sees his own part as relatively minor, but he'll play along for now, for as long as he can to see the fae safe in London.

"Of course," he says, glancing sideways at Eames. There's a polite smile that looks like it could disappear at the drop of a hat.

[falsify]

Eames' demeanour is much the same as Finnick's, though perhaps a touch more casual. Negotiations are tedious, moreso when it comes to dealing with the wellbeing of the courts rather than bartering over petty desires, but a friendly affectation comes easy to Eames and he offers the wolf a smile of his own.

"Mr. Memon," Eames says, hands clasped in his lap, "I trust this isn't a social call?"

[youronlylaw]

His smile turns slightly guilty and he holds his hands up as if admitting to being caught red-handed.

"No, unfortunately. I've asked you both to meet me here to see if we could come up with terms that were agreeable to us all.

...I won't mince words. I intend to claim Havering."

He's going to get right to it. Might as well. If Fae can't lie - even if they can beat around the bush - then neither will he.

Too much.

James waits for their reaction, not predicting a favorable one.

[thelittlemerman]

And there goes the smile, along with a total failure to control the roll of his eyes. It's as if Sylvia has sent this in a gift box hoping they'll make some sort of wrong move and she'll be able to say the deal is off. He contains his annoyance for a moment and the raises an eyebrow at James.

"But you're hoping we'll hand it over?"

Settling pack disputes

[facethewolves]

Alex specifically goes looking for James. She doesn't want to talk to him over the phone, and she doesn't want to just leave a note. She actually wants to see him, which proves to be easier said than done.

Finally, she finds him in a park looking like he's just had the crap kicked out of him.

"What the hell did you do?" she demands by way of greeting, somewhere between concerned and annoyed.

[youronlylaw]

For a moment, James starts upwards at the sound of someone coming near him - his eyes flash dangerously yellow and he snarls a low growl intending to intimidate ...but it's just Alex. He deflates and goes back to looking human.

"Tried being altruistic. It's not working out."

He sighs and sniffs, trying to coax blood back into his nose - it's not attractive and he winces as he does it.

[facethewolves]

Alex is ready to go the second she sees his eyes turn yellow. She hasn't had a chance to take her own brand new moonlight jewelry for a spin yet. She'd prefer to keep it a secret, though - it's hidden under her shirt and looks more or less like any of the slightly too expensive necklaces she wears - so she's glad when he turns fully human again.

She half-smiles and raises an eyebrow at him. "See, now you know," she says dryly. "You have to be an iron-fisted dictator."

drinking;

[iustitiae]

Connor perks up a little at the comment. This whole bar situation had been weird from the start. He'd come here because it wasn't far from City and he had just wanted a pint after a stressful day at work (sorry, Oliver, wherever you are) and he'd heard about the Jolly Rodger before and it's more colorful clientele, he just hadn't expected it to be quite so kitschy. And actually pirate themed. Extremely pirate themed.

So all in all it's not the most exciting pint he's ever had, but the mention of the election makes him excited. Mostly because he's mad on so many levels about the election - arguing is kind of his thing in life. So elections are a great subject; though maybe he should know better than to talk politics with strangers.

"Hey, at least they're keeping it exciting. The candidates are far from unopposed."

somehow I missed this, I'm so sorry

[youronlylaw]

"I guess. It's all a little homogeneous for my tastes."

Witches, Shapeshifters and more witches was the flavor of the day. Sure, there were some metahumans involved in this election but frankly they were tied at the hip to shapeshifters in Night Council representatives, so James didn't bother counting them separately.

"Still. It might get more interesting in the near future."

[iustitiae]

"I don't know about that, there's that kid anarchist, right?" Connor put money on him, but he doesn't actually expect a return there. It's more for the fun of it than any actual thought that something might happen. "And a bear. An actual bear."

[hurtfew]

To be fair to Norrell his opinion of werewolves has... softened, if fractionally. At least when it comes to the East End Pack. They did, somewhat unexpectedly, support him after all when it came to Croydon. They have displayed a stance that generally is against the fae owning territory.

So he agrees to see him.

He makes James wait a little, of course, for an appointment and then to be allowed in. Just enough to get across that Norrell is important and busy.

When he is finally brought through Norrell continues writing a few moments -- there is no computer gracing his desk, only paperwork and files. Norrell is old fashioned to his core, and when he finally looks up his small, beady eyes inspect James curiously.

He sets aside his pen, laces his hands together on the desk.

"It is a busy time of year," he responds, "there is much to be done. So yes, I am pressed for time."

In other words, James, get on with it.

[youronlylaw]

When it came to waiting on a man's ego, James was not unfamiliar with this practice. Once Norrell allowed him inside - and spoke to him, he smiled graciously at the little man behind the desk.

"I understand. I won't take up much of your time."

Might as well say what he wants and get out of his hair as soon as possible.

"I'd like to ask your assistance in moving the Fae out of Havering."

[hurtfew]

Norrell's eyebrows loft fractionally at this and he considers it, considers the man in front of him.

"The fae are a menace I would be happy to see gone," he says, "as you well know. However. You must also be aware that since this is a busy time for me my attentions are elsewhere."

An election doesn't win itself, after all, and James likely as not well knows that. They are expensive, troublesome things.

"Do you have a plan in mind?"

Or is James hoping Norrell himself will simply leap in without one? Certainly he would not. He is a fussy, particular sort of person. Everything must be carefully prearranged.