[OPEN] APRIL CATCH-ALL!

[reticence]

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:

Comments

[knightscode]

Lancelot fumbles his phone a second as he adjusts his hold on his current prisoner, a fluffy creature Faolan knows well.

"Home?" he prompts, then, "yes! I, ah, I'll have to get more food in if you're coming though -- unless, well, I have some risotto I could make. Mushroom risotto? Lily, sit."

Prisoner Lily obeys, if reluctantly. The sounds around Lancelot might clue in Faolan that he's outside, perhaps in the garden then?

[reticence]

Faolan lets out the huff of a breath. Trust Lancelot to cut straight to the matter of food -- although he's grateful for it. He'd eat, if Lancelot has food to feed him. "Yeah, I'd. If you're alright with that. Whatever you've got, don't go out of your way," he says, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly before forcing himself to the point.

"I need to talk to you. I mean, I really just need to talk to someone, but I'd like to talk to you. About this business. With the election..." He pauses to give the other man time to turn him away, or to question just what the hell he's talking about. It's possible he hasn't heard, after all. Although he doubts that, considering he works at the Night Council himself.

[knightscode]

"Ah," Lancelot says again, and there's a slight rustle as he moves his phone again. "Well, of course you can come! Only -- Well, forgive me but I was planning to give Lily a bath. Unless you don't mind that? Or you'd like to help I suppose."

The hint of humour in his voice suggests that such an offer may not necessarily be wise, in Lancelot's opinion.

[reticence]

Faolan pauses for a moment, puzzled slightly by the thought of it. Helping bathe Lily? Well, he's never bathed a dog, but he supposes that it would be easier with help? Especially given the tone the other man is giving him.

"I could help," he offers, off-handed. "Might as well make myself useful or something. I'm sorry to drop in on your plans..." He just doesn't know what he's doing, and he wishes he had some guidance. Barring that, he would welcome some advice at least. And Lancelot always seems to be able to keep a level head, no matter what he's faced with. He should have some decent thoughts on the matter. Shouldn't he...?

"I'm just leaving now from Hillingdon," he says, to give the other man a reference on timing and when to expect him.

D

[stauncherhearted]

Woah. Woah woah woahhh. "Dubhan?" Nancy's out running errands when she notices the familiar face. She hadn't seen him in a long time. He'd left Kenzi's service and now...

Dressed in jeans, trainers, and a light leather jacket, Nancy looks similar to how she did the night he walked her home. Her makeup is light, saving the heavy stuff for work. "It's Nancy- Kenzi's friend, you walked me home? I'm not sure if you remember." She's giving him the benefit of the doubt as she smiles at him.

"How've you been?" She's going to kill him for leaving Kenzi's service. Because now her best friend in the entire world was a vampire, and it was all her fault. Time to blame everyone else.

[reticence]

Faolan turns, starting at the name. He had forgotten, perhaps, that he had used that name when he had gone under cover for the Night Council, and thus to hear it spoken aloud here and now, ten years after the person he associated it with had passed...? It struck a chord, even if she didn't mean it to. It had been his own fault for choosing it, though.

He tries to calm the sudden hammering of his heart as he focuses on the girl in front of him. "Nancy," he says, nodding to show that he remembers her. "Of course, I. Sorry, I guess you caught me off guard." That, and he's a bit surprised that there's anyone who knew him as Dubhan that hasn't learned of him as Faolan at this point. Not that he's complaining. It's much easier to play that part than be himself, these days.

[stauncherhearted]

"God, I'm so sorry!" She says by way of an apology. "I should have cleared my throat or something, first." She waves the issue away.

"I haven't seen you for a while- what happened, if I can ask?" Kenzi had needed a body guard. Especially when she'd started fucking with the vampires that had fucked with Nancy.

She maintains a pleasant tone of voice, smiling pleasantly. They'll get to Kenzi later.

[reticence]

"Ah, yeah," he responds, looking slightly uncomfortable with the question, but of course she has a right to ask. Kenzi did need a bodyguard, perhaps more than most. But he'd needed out, and she'd given him the perfect reason to bail. She'd made some pretty poor decisions with him after all.

"I. I had to quit," he says, honestly. "For a couple of reasons." One of which being he had become the head of the Hillingdon Clan, after all. "I'm sorry. She was. I mean, she had been good to me. But she led us knowingly into a nest of vampires and expected me to protect her from them. And I knew that if I stuck around business like that, I was going to get myself killed."

C

[anniesgonemad]

Faolan- he was a Guardian? He worked for the Night Council? Annie didn't want to believe it, but she takes the flier all the same. She holds it, looking at it as she rides the tube back to Hillingdon. There's no way that's not Faolan. There aren't many men that look like him out there. And a name like that is hard to forget.

Digging her nails into the skin of her wrist, she holds the flier in one hand, standing outside of his office door. It takes her a few minutes to work up the courage to knock.

"Faolan? It's Annie. Can we- can we talk?" Ask first. Make sure it's true. Let him explain. It's how she wanted to be treated, what she'd wound up doing for Sirius. There was no reason not to extend the same courtesy to Faolan.

[reticence]

Faolan glances up at the sound of the knock on the door. He anticipates of course that people will be stopping by like this, especially members of Hillingdon, and well. They do have a right to, after he had hidden it all from them. They more than most perhaps, considering the level of deception it had required. Of course, he hadn't done it on purpose. He'd been sent into the Night Council as a Guardian by members of Hillingdon themselves, those very same people he'd accidentally usurped. And now...? Now he has to wade through the consequences of that, he supposes.

"Ah, yes," he says, before motioning to a seat across the desk from him. "Here, sit." He doesn't know what he's about to be in for, but he finds himself steeling himself for the worst regardless. Perhaps it's better that way. Maybe she won't be upset about it after all. Maybe...

[anniesgonemad]

Annie feels, for the first time ever, since she first stepped into this room, like she's about to speak with the principal. Stiffly, she takes a seat, still holding the flier. Once she's settled, and at least somewhat comfy in the chair that feels harder than before, she gives Faolan an attempted reassuring smile.

"I, uhm. The fliers." She gestures to hers. "I wanted to ask. And to hear what you had to say." She can be his ally, if he needs one, that way.

[reticence]

He nods quietly. He had figured that might be the case, considering the one in her hand. And he doesn't blame he. How could he? He had knowingly kept a secret of something that a lot of people in Hillingdon would take an offense to.

He lets out a quiet breath, before speaking up again. "Ask anything you like. I'll try to answer as best I can. And. If it's any consolation, Hillingdon has always been my top priority..."

C

[whatmatters]

Ringer made an appointment to see Faolan. She wanted him to see her name in his book or on a post-it or however Hillingdon managed to organize things, to know she was coming. It also served to make the visit less personal and more distant, a pretty clear indication that she was already made aware of his secret position. At least this time she wasn't avoiding him. He deserved the chance to explain himself.

A minute before the assigned time, she knocked at his office door and let herself in without waiting. Ringer looked at him, paused, and very carefully closed the door behind her to avoid damaging it in anger. She then moved forward to take a seat, all without saying a word. Once seated, one leg folded over the other, both hands in her lap, she waited for him to speak first, her expression a perfect neutrality as only Ringer could manage.

[reticence]

Faolan takes in a deep breath when he does see her scheduled in. Most people don't even bother with scheduling, but he can see what she's doing, in such a gesture. He knows that it means that she knows what had once been his secret, and he supposes it does give him the chance to prepare himself for whatever is coming. He does his best, but knowing how she had reacted when he had just been friends with Lancelot, he can only imagine what Ringer's reaction is going to be now.

He glances up at her as she lets herself in his office, and winces slightly at the cool, calculated calm she's composing herself with as she sits herself down across from him. It's obvious that she's waiting for something from him, and he knows that whatever he's about to say, no matter what he chooses, she isn't going to like it. The only question is, how mad is she going to become at him...

"You're within your right to be upset with me for this," he settles on starting with, at last. Because it's true, at least in his estimation.

[whatmatters]

"I know," she admits easily.

The two of them are friends and while his deceit was through omission more than direct deception, Faolan is aware of her feelings regarding the Night Council and hid his allegiance with them. Ringer has considered her side of it, making her distrust of the Council clear and considering that perhaps Faolan was afraid of admitting as much and losing what shaky alliance, or friendship, they do have. But he must also know that lying is worse, that there's no way he could have kept it secret forever. Whatever his reasoning, he did deceive her, his alleged friend. And she's pretty sure that he's aware of how poorly she deals with being lied to.

"Why did you hide it?" She asks after a moment. As tempting as it is to be silent and wait for him to carry the conversation, Ringer's not sure that Faolan's attempts to make her feel better will actually give her the answers she needs to even begin to understand this. Because she does feel hurt and betrayed and that's hard for her.

[reticence]

Faolan isn't sure whether this approach is worse than direct anger or not. At least if she were to get angry at him, then he'd know what she really thought about the matter. Not that he didn't already, of course. He knows that she doesn't like the Night Council, and she hadn't even liked him having acquaintances with ties, never mind being a member himself.

He takes in a breath and lets it out slowly. "The old leaders knew. Of Hillingdon, I mean. They were the ones who nominated me. Well, not all of them. But enough to gain me the position." He glances across at her, wary of her every expression, her every move. "Once they stepped down and I inherited the position in their stead... I knew people wouldn't like it. But. It's not like I could just back out of it." He swore an oath. For better or worse.

C

[specifiercity]

Arthur avoids Faolan for a couple days after he finds out. He knows he needs the time to cool down. It feels like a betrayal, but more than that it feels like he's been stupid, like he should have seen it. He winds up trying to remember every detail of every conversation they've ever had. He's always been careful with Faolan, but if he had known he was Night Council, he would have been moreso. It's maddening, and finally when he's trying to retrace the steps of the same conversation for the twentieth time, he decides it's time to just go see him.

It's after lunch one day, and Arthur finds Faolan's office empty. Gone on a break, no doubt, but that just means Arthur can lean on the wall outside with his arms crossed, driving himself crazy with details again as he waits. His usual frown of concentration is sharpened by frustration now, but it's not like he has any weapons on him or is making any attempt to be intimidating.

He's just a little angry, is all.

[reticence]

Ah, yes. Faolan had been expecting this, and had been honestly surprised that Arthur hadn't come to him sooner. Angry and demanding answers, perhaps. Maybe it's better that it's taken this long. Maybe it isn't. Faolan won't know until he speaks to him now, he supposes.

"Why don't you come in," he says, gesturing to his office and opening the door to let the pair of them in. He's got a mug of coffee carefully balanced in one hand, which he walks across the room to set down on his desk before collapsing into the chair behind it. Preparing himself for the worst in hopes that it won't be quite that bad, he supposes. He'd like to think that they'd rather got on, he and Arthur. At least before this latest news was out.

[specifiercity]

Arthur follows him in without a word, sitting down straight-backed in the chair, looking around the room for anything else to focus on and calm down his brain. He wants to be angry or have some kind of straight-forward emotion, but he needs all the details first, and he needs to find a way to get those that is less confrontational than he wants to be.

"So," he says, his jaw tight, "I assume you have an explanation for why a Night Council Guardian is in charge of a neutral faction."

C

[brightwitch]

Sylvia catches Faolan hanging around the Night Council building just as she's returning from a meeting. Ah. She clicks her fingers.

"Faolan, could you come to my office for a moment?"

They need to have a chat about conflicts of interest. Norrell's lovely flyer has made that much more urgent.

[reticence]

Faolan had had a feeling that this was coming. He just hadn't been sure when. He's almost relieved when she finally corners him to call him into her office. Even if he's wary of what exactly she's about to reprimand him about now. Whatever she may think about it, the nomination wasn't his idea. He certainly hadn't put his name in for the pot, never mind expected it.

He gives her a small nod before starting forward to fall in step behind her. Trying hard as he can not to look like he's a child in trouble being called in to talk to the principal. (He hadn't done anything wrong! Not this time at least! He's fairly certain, anyway...)

[brightwitch]

Sylvia doesn't care whether Faolan chose to be nominated or not. He chose to accept the nomination. That's on him. In her office she has a whole stack of flyers from various candidates in her in-tray and she quickly sorts through it, glancing up at Faolan to beckon him forward.

Ah. There it is. She holds Norrell's flyer up to show him. "I assume you've seen this. How do you plan to respond?"

C

[dirtyredneck]

When Daryl came to London two years ago, it hadn't taken him long to go from being seen as an independent agent to being part of Hillingdon. Just a few months of getting his name out in the right places and he was being contacted for his services by more than a few people. One in particular being Faolan. The man had been, and as far as Daryl knew still was, a private investigator. Daryl's skills had come in handy on more than a few cases and it wasn't long before the man's idle talk during cases had led to him talking up the Clan to Daryl. Which eventually led to Daryl, well not really making a formalized declaration of allegiance to the clan, but it was understood within six months of his arrival that he was loyal enough to Hillingdon and the hunters he helped out to be one of their own.

The assumption stuck and somewhere along the way Daryl had started to think of himself as one of them, too. It had just sort of followed. And he pretty much owed that to Faolan's chatter and insistence that he look to Hillingdon for more and more work and the occasional support. Daryl wouldn't say he and Faolan were close, but he did consider the man something akin to a friend. Someone he trusted enough that when he'd somehow become the head of the Clan, Daryl had given a quiet congratulations to and felt confident their loosely-strung 'family' was in good hands.

The flyer one of his co-workers shoved in his face and asked if he knew anything about this was the first time Daryl had had any inclination to question Faolan. Unfortunately, this wasn't just something he felt he could ignore. It was that which brought Daryl to Hillingdon House and to the office Faolan used for official business. Daryl's second visit to the room, the first having been long before Faolan laid claim to it.

He walked in without preamble, only knocking enough to let it be known he was there. The flyer was folded in half, with the picture showing, and casually tossed onto the desk. Daryl's eyes met Faolan's as he started to pace in a slow back and forth. He didn't think he needed to ask for his concern to be understood. And perhaps, at the back of his mind, there was this niggling sense of betrayal. Like Faolan had wronged him personally. Stupid, sure, but the man had convinced him to trust Hillingdon and now this?

[reticence]

Faolan glances up at Daryl as he lets himself into his office, tosses the flyer down in front of him, and starts pacing around in front of him. He raises a hand to run over his face, through his hair. He'd known that this was coming -- the whole city had to know his secret was out now, after all, of course the people who would care the most would find out the fastest. But that didn't stop him from wishing he could just make it all go away, rather than having to deal with this conversation.

"Look," he starts off, because he doesn't know how else to cover this with the other man. Yes, it seems like a betrayal. Of course it seems like a betrayal, to him and Hillingdon both. But -- "It's not what you think."

[dirtyredneck]

"Then what is it?" Daryl scoffed, not hiding his disbelief. There were very few options for what it could be. And all of them involved being a plant for the Night Council. Daryl didn't have a lot of beef with the Council per say, but it was more of a 'you stay in your lane, we'll stay in ours' thing. This? This crossed a line into bowing before the pricks and handing the Clan over to them with fucking bells on.