Faolan (
reticence) wrote in
undergrounds2016-04-15 11:55 am
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[OPEN] APRIL CATCH-ALL!
A. TROUBLE AHEAD [CLOSED TO LANCELOT]
Faolan isn't quite sure what to think when he first hears the news. Him? Nominated for a position on the Night Council? It's bad enough that he's somehow found himself Head of Hillingdon and Guardian both, but now this? Should he try for it, now that he's been nominated for it? Does he even want it? He could do a hell of a lot of good on the inside like that, and part of him understands that it's a way to get out of being a Guardian and the dangers involved in walking that line. But a seat on the Council...
He stew on the news on his own for about a day before he can't take it anymore. Locking up his office at Hillingdon House he pulls out his mobile as he heads out the door towards the station, Lancelot's number dialed even before he knows what he's doing. "Hey," he says, as Lancelot answers the phone. "Are you home?"
B. ON THE CAMPAIGN
Faolan doesn't really know whether he wants the position or not. He's got enough on his plate as it is, without complicating matters further with a position on the Night Council. But he has no qualms speaking to people about the idea of it, if they have any thoughts to share on the matter. A candidate from Hillingdon, that's nearly unheard of, considering the faction's less than political slant. Although it's been growing more so, as of late.
He makes sure that he's available to speak at Hillingdon House, and when the idea that he should advocate for himself in the position comes up, he's not quite sure what to do about it. Though it occurs to him that while he may not want the position, it's a good opportunity to spread his ideas about. Carefully. He has to make sure he's not breaking any Council or Guardian rules while he's doing so. But a bit of simple expression of his opinion never hurt anyone. Right?
And so he makes himself available around the Council building, in Night Council Territories, and in Redbright territories as well. Just sitting himself down at a table in a cafe, sometimes grabbing a sandwich but more often than not just a coffee. And being there to talk. About whatever they'd like. His position on his belief in equality for all branches of the supernatural on the Underground, perhaps? Although nothing's stopping anyone from sitting down to chat about anything else. His face has suddenly become a lot more well-known, for better or worse, and Faolan's going to do his best to make use of that while he can.
C. LIES AND SLANDER
He should have known it was only a matter of time before someone started slinging his name through the mud. And he should have known that it would be Gilbert Norrell doing the mudslinging. What with the position he'd taken against him in the latest territory dispute and his own personal stance on the matter of equality for all. Including the fae, a hot button item as far as Norrell is concerned.
The flier he's just been handed by some unknowing volunteer is much the same as any other political flier might be. No doubt the poor kid didn't even know who he'd been handing it to. But it's what it says that has Faolan growling at anyone who dares look at him as he makes his way down the street. There sports on the front of it a large photograph, caught at some function or another, god knows who took it or where, of Faolan standing guard behind the Council Members, Sylvia Redbright and Gilbert Norrell featured prominently in the foreground but it's clearly Faolan in the photograph. Below it reads:
FAOLAN O'NEILL: DISOBEYED HIS SUPERIORS TO SUPPORT THE FAE. WOULD YOU GIVE A GUARDIAN LIKE THAT MORE POWER???
He'd been so careful. He'd jumped through hoops to keep his position with the Night Council a secret. But the story is out now. God knows how many other fliers have been printed up. God knows what other things they say about him. By the time he reaches Hillingdon House he's in the blackest of moods, shutting himself in his office and hiding away from the world as best he can. But he can't hide forever. People at Hillingdon will be able to find him. And people out and about now too for that matter...
D. GOING SHOPPING
He needs something to take his mind off of all of this political business, and the one thing he can think of is the fact that he knows that Lancelot's birthday is coming up. At least, he's fairly certain that it's coming up. He's got a pretty good handle that it's in May at least, although the exact date he's a bit hazy on. The 5th stands out most prominently in his mind, but he'll need confirmation on that for certain before he starts making any plans. But he'll need to make plans. And he'll need to get the other man something. Something good. Something to make up for this mess that he's put him through, time and time again. Better than a bottle of wine, or a dog toy. Certainly better than the Monkey's Paw, what with that and the decapitated head he's sure Lancelot's had enough of dismembered body parts in boxes for a while yet.
He finds himself standing staring into the window of a pet shop one afternoon, wondering if maybe the secret to the other man's heart really is through his furry friend, and how lame a gift it would be to repeat a gift he's already done, knowing at least that it would be appreciated. But Lancelot had bought him a coffee machine. No, he's going to have to do much better than that.
E. WILDCARD
What it says on the tin! Want to do something that I haven't written a prompt for! Either run it by me first if you like or just GO FOR IT!! c:
Faolan isn't quite sure what to think when he first hears the news. Him? Nominated for a position on the Night Council? It's bad enough that he's somehow found himself Head of Hillingdon and Guardian both, but now this? Should he try for it, now that he's been nominated for it? Does he even want it? He could do a hell of a lot of good on the inside like that, and part of him understands that it's a way to get out of being a Guardian and the dangers involved in walking that line. But a seat on the Council...
He stew on the news on his own for about a day before he can't take it anymore. Locking up his office at Hillingdon House he pulls out his mobile as he heads out the door towards the station, Lancelot's number dialed even before he knows what he's doing. "Hey," he says, as Lancelot answers the phone. "Are you home?"
B. ON THE CAMPAIGN
Faolan doesn't really know whether he wants the position or not. He's got enough on his plate as it is, without complicating matters further with a position on the Night Council. But he has no qualms speaking to people about the idea of it, if they have any thoughts to share on the matter. A candidate from Hillingdon, that's nearly unheard of, considering the faction's less than political slant. Although it's been growing more so, as of late.
He makes sure that he's available to speak at Hillingdon House, and when the idea that he should advocate for himself in the position comes up, he's not quite sure what to do about it. Though it occurs to him that while he may not want the position, it's a good opportunity to spread his ideas about. Carefully. He has to make sure he's not breaking any Council or Guardian rules while he's doing so. But a bit of simple expression of his opinion never hurt anyone. Right?
And so he makes himself available around the Council building, in Night Council Territories, and in Redbright territories as well. Just sitting himself down at a table in a cafe, sometimes grabbing a sandwich but more often than not just a coffee. And being there to talk. About whatever they'd like. His position on his belief in equality for all branches of the supernatural on the Underground, perhaps? Although nothing's stopping anyone from sitting down to chat about anything else. His face has suddenly become a lot more well-known, for better or worse, and Faolan's going to do his best to make use of that while he can.
C. LIES AND SLANDER
He should have known it was only a matter of time before someone started slinging his name through the mud. And he should have known that it would be Gilbert Norrell doing the mudslinging. What with the position he'd taken against him in the latest territory dispute and his own personal stance on the matter of equality for all. Including the fae, a hot button item as far as Norrell is concerned.
The flier he's just been handed by some unknowing volunteer is much the same as any other political flier might be. No doubt the poor kid didn't even know who he'd been handing it to. But it's what it says that has Faolan growling at anyone who dares look at him as he makes his way down the street. There sports on the front of it a large photograph, caught at some function or another, god knows who took it or where, of Faolan standing guard behind the Council Members, Sylvia Redbright and Gilbert Norrell featured prominently in the foreground but it's clearly Faolan in the photograph. Below it reads:
He'd been so careful. He'd jumped through hoops to keep his position with the Night Council a secret. But the story is out now. God knows how many other fliers have been printed up. God knows what other things they say about him. By the time he reaches Hillingdon House he's in the blackest of moods, shutting himself in his office and hiding away from the world as best he can. But he can't hide forever. People at Hillingdon will be able to find him. And people out and about now too for that matter...
D. GOING SHOPPING
He needs something to take his mind off of all of this political business, and the one thing he can think of is the fact that he knows that Lancelot's birthday is coming up. At least, he's fairly certain that it's coming up. He's got a pretty good handle that it's in May at least, although the exact date he's a bit hazy on. The 5th stands out most prominently in his mind, but he'll need confirmation on that for certain before he starts making any plans. But he'll need to make plans. And he'll need to get the other man something. Something good. Something to make up for this mess that he's put him through, time and time again. Better than a bottle of wine, or a dog toy. Certainly better than the Monkey's Paw, what with that and the decapitated head he's sure Lancelot's had enough of dismembered body parts in boxes for a while yet.
He finds himself standing staring into the window of a pet shop one afternoon, wondering if maybe the secret to the other man's heart really is through his furry friend, and how lame a gift it would be to repeat a gift he's already done, knowing at least that it would be appreciated. But Lancelot had bought him a coffee machine. No, he's going to have to do much better than that.
E. WILDCARD
What it says on the tin! Want to do something that I haven't written a prompt for! Either run it by me first if you like or just GO FOR IT!! c: