#makedonalddrumpfagain

[whatmatters]

1. CAMPAIGN TRAIL (OPEN) - out and about, first half of April
Ringer wasn't a particularly showy person. Her version of campaigning was primarily to make anonymous donations and strategic deals, like encouraging Vrinak to support Estergaard in the hope that Redbright would discover his subterfuge and withdraw her support of him. Even if he was the best candidate for the position, she wanted the Night Council to splinter until it was a schism of dissenting opinions. The fish rots from the head; an untrue statement but a sentiment she understood.

Part of those deals was showing support for certain candidates. Faolan's was, perhaps ironically, the only button on her messenger bag as she distributed flyers for Vrinak and Merad in local supernatural haunts. She had agreed to donate to Norrell's campaign, but had no interest in publicly supporting him.

"Vote Vrinak," she said with a practiced repetition, neither enthusiastic or entirely droll, as she offered the person a flyer.


2. REGISTER FOR REDBRIGHT (OPEN) - Hillingdon House or Redbright Institute, first half of April
Thanks to a strategic deal with the Dean of Redbright, Ringer had been made a temporary outreach volunteer, meant to educate shapeshifters, metahumans, and the like about a school that wouldn't accept her and encourage them to register and attend. Though anything involving talking to strangers was far from the list of her ideal tasks, she took to it with relative ease because she did believe in education, even if it came with a pretentious and exclusionary attitude.

Ringer spent some time at Hillingdon, knowing it was the best place to find people new to the community and lot in their ways, and some near the Redbright Institute itself, to make her face visible to the Dean and prove that efforts were being made. Maybe no one would notice that a human hunter was promoting a supernatural school.


3. SLOWLY FREAKING OUT (CLOSED TO FAOLAN) - Ringer's flat, mid-April
There was something off about Ringer's morning. From accidentally breaking a mug to tripping while running to catch her train, the list of deviant behaviors continued to grow. She didn't even make it onto said train, turning around and heading back for her flat as anxiety about whatever was happening set in. A headache, a broken textbook spine. She spent a few hours by herself, performing repetitive actions at first and then curled up in her bed and failing to sleep. It was another few hours beyond that, in the afternoon, when she finally made the call to Faolan: 'Something's wrong. You need to come over.'

She waited there, still in bed, mobile in her hand, for her friend to arrive. Because he would know what to do. Or because, as much as Ringer loathed to admit it, she didn't entirely want to deal with it alone.


4. ENIGMATIC STUCK LIKE STATIC (CLOSED TO JAMES) - Cafe near James's work, mid-April
Ringer sat stiffly in her seat at the cafe, staring down at the cup of tea in front of her as she waited for James to arrive. Her hands rested on either side of the cup, a mockery of holding it, wondering how long it might be. It had been a simple enough dictation for his secretary: 'Tell him his cousin will be at the cafe by two and needs to have a chat.' Hopefully the message was passed along. She twisted her wrist to glance at her watch.

Her gaze lifted a moment before the door opened, pulled from her anticipation with the sight of the man himself. She made no motion to catch his attention, trusting he would find and join her without fanfare. Ringer didn't look tense or sleep deprived, didn't look like shit. But it was clear, with one look, that something had her extremely worried, an unusual expression for the girl who liked to show how calm and collected she could be in nearly any situation.

Comments

3.

[reticence]

To say that Faolan is alarmed by such a message appearing on his phone is a bit of an understatement. Ringer has always been rather private and there had been that time once when he had (rather hypocritically) forced her to take care of herself when she was obviously not doing such a solid job of it on her own. Thus when he receives such a message similar thoughts start to fill his mind. What happened, is she hurt, is she in trouble perhaps?

After sending her a quick response saying he's on his way, clearing out his calendar for the rest of the day, (and telling Lancelot where he's gone, just in case there's trouble so that he at least has someone who knows where to go looking -- and no he doesn't appreciate those insinuations thank you very much Lancelot) he's headed over to Ringer's flat. Ringing the bell and not knowing what to expect when he gets there but preparing himself for anything and thus feeling rather on edge. He supposed in retrospect he should have asked for more but the question is of course whether she would have given it...

[whatmatters]

Ringer checks the eyepiece before quickly unlocking and opening the door to allow Faolan to enter. She gestures him in before closing it behind him. The girl appears no worse for wear physically, her hair and clothes evidence of getting ready as normal this morning. The only notable difference is the expression of concern she openly wears, unusual for her normally reserved visage, and the hint of genuine fear in her eyes. "Hi."

She walks carefully over to a chair in her living room and takes a seat, gesturing at the couch for him to join her. When she speaks more than the single word, her voice is awkwardly uncertain. "There's something wrong.. with me. I think I've been cursed."

[reticence]

Faolan raises his eyebrows in response to such a statement, before concern colors his features. "Cursed?" he asks, moving to sit on the couch as she had beckoned him to.

"In what way?" he asks. "What's wrong?" He has some recent development of abilities of his own, though he has not really gotten a handle on them in any way. Still, given the look on her face, he tries his best to reach out with them and see if there might be some sort of magic lingering about her to detect.

And then, of course, as something of an afterthought, though it begs asking -- "Are you alright?"

[whatmatters]

Ringer's oblivious to the deal she made with the fae that turned her into what she is now. Instead, she believes it to be another curse, most likely temporary, similar to the love potion she drank on Valentine's Day. Even so, there's no telling how long the effects will last, having already lasted for hours, and she would much rather get a hold on them only for them to fade away rather than endeavor to wait them out.

"I don't know, exactly. At first I thought it was bad luck. But it seems like everything is.. heightened." She shifts, tucking her hair behind her ears and then loosely folding her arms over her chest, trying not to look as uncomfortable as she feels. "Not everything. Sounds, my strength. I think my vision is better too."

[reticence]

Faolan isn't well-acquainted with curses himself, not as much as an actual curse-breaker or a witch themselves might be, but he had been cursed by the tea on Valentine's Day himself, and besides that. Well, both Lancelot and now Faolan himself had been effected by the onset of sudden abilities not unlike the ones that she's describing.

Of course, the latter weren't exactly to be classified as curses, but he isn't about to begin trying to guess how they came to pass either. He raises an eyebrow slightly in response to her explanation, though his concern seems to fade a little. "That hardly sounds like bad luck to me," he suggests, although he doesn't know himself. Perhaps it's heightened to a level that makes it suddenly disorienting to have to deal with. Like Lancelot's sudden onset telekinesis, for example. Or Faolan's own ability to detect supernatural magic that he had developed, for that matter.

[whatmatters]

"I broke a mug this morning," Ringer gestures idly over to the kitchen. "I also fell running to catch a train and have had a headache for-," A glance at her watch, "nearly six hours."

It's her explanation for why she considered it to be bad luck at first. She's still not sure if she's stronger or if her muscles are more tense, not sure if she can actually hear better or is more aware in her state of hypervigilance. "The love potion's effects seemed to fade in a few hours. These effects seem ongoing."

If she focuses on the logic of it, maybe she can ignore the feelings that come with it. Curse, extraordinary abilities, werewolf bite. Whatever it is, she doesn't want it. Ringer is human. She wants to be human.

[reticence]

Faolan takes in a deep breath. Obviously, whatever tea she had been hit with, it hadn't been the same batch as his. Or he'd just been extra receptive to it, considering how long it had lasted for him.

"Okay," he responds again. "So enhanced senses. Strength. Any other side effects?" The headache is a bad side-effect, but besides that none of the things she's named seem to be inherently terrible. Aside from the loss of the mug, he supposes. Hopefully it wasn't anything that couldn't be replaced, at least. "You don't know at all when it might have started?"

4

[youronlylaw]

James scans the cafe a few times before he spots Ringer watching him from a table and makes his way towards her through the slight crowd. As he comes to the table he smiles shortly, not looking too terribly happy at the moment but content enough amidst all this craziness that the election has brought.

"Cousin."

He's too fond of this joke to let it go, Ringer.

[whatmatters]

Her lips twitch with her brief amusement at the word. The joke has grown on her over time, in their bizarre and half potion induced alliance. Ringer doesn't really trust James, but she likes him and she's pretty short on options at the moment. Unless she wants to turn her life upside down.

"I need your help." She almost grimaces as she says it, dropping her eyes to her tea again for a beat and then lifting them as before. "If you're willing to try. And to keep it secret."

[youronlylaw]

James' brow furrows quickly at her request and the sort of shameful dip of her eyes as she asks. What could possibly make Ringer act like she had something to be embarrassed about?

"Won't tell a soul." That much he could promise. Whether or not he could help? Well...that depended on what she wanted out of him.

[whatmatters]

Ringer stares at him, allowing the silence between them to stretch as she seems to reconsider telling him. It gives her time to reevaluate their entire alliance and the risk she's taking in admitting a weakness to him, one that comes with a strength that she's pretty sure he might want to exploit. She can't tell if he's the type to accept help as offered or manipulate the situation to get what he wants, which makes her telling him a greater risk than she'd like. But still one she accepts.

"I assume that includes vampires," she replies dryly, waiting for a confirmation before continuing with a sigh.

"I'm.. superhuman now. I need to learn how to control it, and to figure out what my limits are." It's said as a matter of fact, though her expression barely conceals her discomfort with telling him. Ringer glosses over the fact that she has no idea how or why this happened, or even what it is exactly.

[youronlylaw]

"You assume correctly."

And he means it too. Not that it's public knowledge, but ever since Coward left England James hasn't been too interested in continuing relations with the Islington Nest. They all lacked the vision that had been the basis for their alliance.

But this revelation made him forget all about it. Superhuman...now.

She didn't look like she planned this or made a deal with a fae for it...she might actually be happy about it if that was the case. For starters.

"And you'd like me to help you with that?"

He continues the (hopeful) train of thought for her.

[whatmatters]

"Yes." Ringer's rarely been one to beat around the bush and only when it seems like the strategic move. With James, it's usually easier to be upfront and factual about what she wants, what she's offering, and what the end result should be. Although she'll be the first to recognize that her status as a human and her belonging to Hillingdon make her less a priority to him than his pack.

"I can pay for your time, or we can agree upon a service in advance. Assuming you're willing to try."

1

[wolfmarked]

Ringer isn't the only one campaigning for Vrinak. Out with her, having set up shop not too far away, is a redhead with pamphlets. Which she is promptly offering to everyone who passes.

She might not have the most energetic approach, but she is focused.

"Peter Vrinak is the best choice for vice-president. He has uncovered corruption in the Night Council, eradicated it, and strives to continue the prosperity London's supernatural community has enjoyed."

[whatmatters]

"Vote Vrinak," she says as usual. When the passerby gives her a dirty look, Ringer follows it up with a simple and honest: "He's the best option we have."

The person seems to consider this, giving a shrug and accepting the pamphlet before walking off. While Ringer's confident she has not converted another voter, it seems like progress nonetheless.

It doesn't take long before the nearby redhead's enthusiasm catches her attention and she walks over during a slight dry spell in the crowd to introduce herself, wondering if there's something amiss or if the woman is campaigning for the same reasons as Ringer — to see that a deal is met.

"What corruption did he eradicate?" She asks sincerely, wondering if Vrinak is actually a better person than she believes or if the redhead simply wants more than Ringer does.

[wolfmarked]

"The vice-president at the time was working with Circle Midnight -- even as they broke the laws of the Night Council regarding dark magic," Skip replies promptly.

She's done her homework, even if she doesn't really care. She's holding up her end of a bargain, so, God damn it, she's going to do it right. She wants that petition passed.

"Vice-President Vrinak saw her removed from office."

[whatmatters]

"The office he was then appointed to," she retorts skeptically. Vrinak exposing corruption in the Night Council was actually good news to Ringer, but if it was purely motivated by selfish gain, it wasn't exactly a positive comment on the man's character. She wonders idly if everyone affiliated with the Night Council is so completely dishonest and egomaniacal.

[wolfmarked]

"No doubt as part of a natural hierarchy," Skip replies with an easy shrug. For her part, she doesn't care how it happened. She just cares that she can spin it. "Just like if something happened to Ms. Redbright, the vice-president would become president of the Night Council."

[whatmatters]

"Or if he discovered some corruption from Redbright herself," she remarks idly, though it's almost a wish. Vrinak's not great, but Redbright owns a monopoly on the supernatural world and Ringer wouldn't mind seeing the woman lose a little power. Not that this is the time or place for it.

"You really believe in him." It's a statement, but a leading one, asking a confirmation or rejection.

1.

[iustitiae]

Connor takes the flier (how many fliers has he gotten at this point?) looking over it with about the same amount of life and excitement Ringer brings to it. He literally cannot help himself from engaging with people on this stuff, though.

"Yeah? What's he going to do if he's elected?"

[whatmatters]

Ringer shrugs lightly, wanting to emphasize her indifference to this whole rigged process. It bothers her to think that random passersby might assume she actually cares about the Council. At least someone talking to her is a nice break from the mindless exchange of passing out the papers.

"Not fuck things up. He's the best candidate for the job." The 'of those available' is silently implied.

[iustitiae]

"Sure, okay, that's fair." If it's really true, though he's pretty sure the jury is still out. "Is this the race with the Bear guy? As in the literal kind, not the fun kind." Ask yourself this though: how long do you think Connor has been waiting to use that joke?

[whatmatters]

"There's a fun kind of bear?" Ringer looks confused. There's a beat before it sinks in and she understands the double entendre. The joke fails to amuse and she nods a little. "Oh. Joe Orsini is running against Mr Vrinak, yeah. Mr Orsini supports witches and no one else. Even if you're a witch, his position on the Council would create animosity toward the Circles."

Ringer's not entirely sure if it's true, but she knows the man hates the fae and her own Hillingdon, so she's not too keen on anyone thinking well of him if she can help it.

"Which race are you?"

[iustitiae]

Ringer's nod keeps him from saying anything more on the subject, definitely hindered in his attempt to play this up. Ah, well. At least she's taking the election seriously, which is more than he can say for a lot of people.

"Isn't that kind of rude to just go and ask?"

[whatmatters]

Ringer considers that for a brief second before giving a light shrug. She's terrible at dealing with people and she knows it.

"I don't understand why it would be a concern unless it's something you're embarrassed by." A beat. "Or if it put you in danger. Then the question wouldn't be rude. It would be dangerous."