Faolan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reticence) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2016-04-15 11:55 am
reticence) wrote in undergrounds2016-04-15 11:55 am
Entry tags:
[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:
no subject
He leans forward and begins soaking Lily's front legs, letting the water pressure clean her right down to her skin. It mists Faolan's legs as it bounces off her, the edges of his rolled-up trousers, and Lancelot smiles wryly up at him.
"You probably would have been better off in shorts," he muses, and Lily tries to back away from the shower head again -- trying to shake her head free of Faolan's hands. Why this! Why the water?
no subject
He makes sure that he's got a firm hold on Lily as he gives Lancelot's response a moment's thought. "They're not going to be happy," he says, "but you're right. I should tell them. As much as I can. They're not going to be happy no matter what I do, at least this way..." At least this way, he should hope to have some hope of winning back their trust.
no subject
He shuffles closer and holds out the shower to Faolan, flicking him a smile then moving to hold Lily once he lets go. She turns to inspect Lancelot, looking distinctly worried and bedraggled now. The bath has filled a couple of inches and her paws are splashing about as she shifts unhappily. He cups handfuls of it to gently wet her a little more.
no subject
"How is she about water on her face?" Faolan asks as he works his way down her front, doing his best to work the water into her fur as he goes. As though he's bathed a dog before. Possibly because he has, although perhaps not quite under the same circumstances. But that's neither here nor there.
no subject
Even if she might give Faolan her saddest, most betrayed doggy eyes for the offence. She shifts her weight between her paws again, sloshing the water in the bath as Lancelot reaches over for doggy shampoo to begin working into fur along her back and tail.
no subject
He takes care to reassure her that she's a good girl as he does. For every moment that she keeps still for him, he makes sure to reassure her for her patience. Though he makes certain not to keep the water in her face for longer than he needs to. Once he's done rinsing her front to the best of his ability he pulls back, fully anticipating for her to shake the water back into his face for his efforts.
no subject
"Good girl," he soothes, "nearly done, I promise! Then you can shake all over us as much as you want! You'll be extra beautiful too, I promise. Faolan might even give you a biscuit for being so good."
The word 'biscuit' gets her to look up, at least, hopeful that something good will come of this all. A biscuit! OH, yes she deserves a biscuit! She has been so good!
no subject
He sits back and lets Lancelot handle the shampooing, holding the water away from her with one hand and making certain to keep her from moving about too much with the other. He can feel the water beginning to soak through his jeans, not only from where she had gotten them wet but now from the bottoms up, where it's sloshing around and spreading up the fabric from the cuffs. He's definitely going to need a change of trousers, he thinks to himself. And hopes that Lancelot won't mind too much at that either.
no subject
He leans down to rub the shampoo into her legs, around down her chest -- splashing the water a little and probably leaning precariously close to Faolan but he hopes he doesn't mind.
"The way to any dog's heart, through the stomach. Isn't that right?"
She doesn't look impressed, but he supposes he can't blame her.
no subject
"Something like that," Faolan responds, before adding, "I suppose then that we'd better make it two biscuits. For good measure."
no subject
Grabbing for the shower head again he tests the water temperature, rinses off his hands then shuffles back to begin rinsing the soap out of her tail and back-legs first before he works his way along.
"I'm not sure if you've ever seen her quite this white before," Lancelot adds, because her poor flattened wet fur is definitely getting very clean now.
no subject
"I'm sure that she's a very pretty girl when she's clean though. Even prettier than she already is the rest of the time. Isn't that right, Lily?" he asks. Gently ruffling his fingers through her wet fur as he works to keep her still for the other man in turn.
no subject
"Ah, nearly done," he assures her, but her patience is wearing thin. She's standing in water and even though it's warm, it isn't warm enough for her! She's wet and she doesn't want to be! She she tosses her head again and begins to shake water out of her fur. A big, full body shake.
no subject
"Thanks for that, Lily," he replies, once he's fairly certain she's done with that, and throws a glance at Lancelot nearly as pleading as Lily's. Is it over yet? He'd rather not be the bad guy for any longer than he need to be.