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:
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"Do you remember what it was like in Hillingdon, a little under a year ago?" he asks the other man. It's probably the best way to start. Remembering back on how little direction they had, and how the faction had been in turmoil, with one half wanting to overthrow the Night Council, and the other half wanting absolutely nothing to do with the politics of the city at all.
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"It was neutral," he bit out. "People keeping to themselves and the clan keeping to it's own. The way it should be."
Daryl had never really gotten into the politics of it, so all the grousing about 'overthrowing' the Night Council he'd heard he'd taken as just that: grousing. No one seemed to be doing anything as far as he'd seen or been involved in. But he'd always kept to the fringes of society, even in the clan. He wasn't exactly in the loop.
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"It was because of that part of Hillingdon that I wound up as a Guardian. They wanted a plant, on the inside. The side that wanted nothing to do with it saw what trouble might arise from that. And so they wound up with me." He glances up at Daryl, the look in his eyes somewhat apologetic that all of this is coming out now. "And then, against the odds, somehow I wound up outranking the lot of them in Hillingdon despite it all. Those that know either stayed on and kept quiet, or refused to remain under my command." Or they died, but Faolan's not going to go there. They both know how dangerous it is to be a hunter.
(ooc: my apologies for the delay in tags work has been crazy and exhausting :x i do hope you're interested in continuing this thread and/or more cr with faolan and daryl though! i certainly am!)
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He kicked the chair in front of the desk, sending it clattering into the left wall where it broke with loud crack.
"Know what would make that believable? You saying something about being one of their guardians when you took the position! Or not taking it at all! Finding someone else who wasn't tied to them to watch out for our interests! How're we supposed to trust you ain't gonna do whatever they tell you to if you cain't even tell the rest of us that you're a part of 'em?"
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"I'm sorry," he says, meaning the words. "What was I supposed to say? 'Oh yes, thank you for the promotion, and by the way, I also work for the Night Council. I was supposed to be a plant but it's a lot more complicated than that sounds'? It's not something that I can just announce. I'm only telling you because I trust you not to turn around and tell them. If you knew what they'd do..." He trails off, hearing how he sounds in his head.
"It's not an excuse, I know that. But I'm telling you the truth. You can... I don't know, find a curse to put on me or something, my answer will be the same," he says. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Not becoming a Guardian, not the leadership of Hillingdon, not the election, none of it. I'm just trying to make do with what's been thrown at me the best I can."
Faolan braces himself, not entirely certain he's not about to be punched to follow such statements, to be honest.
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"You need to step down," he finally said, voice quiet, terse. Obviously holding in his anger. "From Night Council Guardian or Hillingdon Leadership. One or the other. Pick your priorities, asshole."
He turned his back and picked up the other chair with one hand, sending it into the wall to break along side it's match before leaving the room. Door slammed behind him. Sure, punching Faolan would have felt better, but at least with the furniture he could break stuff guilt free.
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Once he's certain the coast is clear, Faolan sets about cleaning his office. And waiting for the next unhappy clan member to come and grace him with their opinion on the matter.