undergrounds | [catch-all] For when then and there, there will be enough.

Arthur nods, looking down at the map. He wants to know who these people are and why they're helping but he's keeping his questions to himself for now. If Eames gets annoyed he'll just leave, and then Arthur will feel guilty (if not a little smug) if it all goes south. He'd really like to see Norrell crash and burn, though, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Okay, no comments. That's... good, right? He's not missing anything startlingly obvious. Arthur is frustratingly difficult to read when he's thinking, but there's little to be done about that. So Eames just continues on.

"After that they deliver the boxes as planned, and hopefully it's 'goodbye Norrell, see you next week to twist the knife.'"

Arthur nods again, still looking down at the map. He has a lot of questions and he wants to make sure he asks them in a way that doesn't piss Eames off. This is why he came to Arthur, though, so he can't get too mad. After a moment he looks up at Eames.

"Where are you getting the fake ballots?"

"It'll have to be on the day; I can't be sure the version that exists now will be the one they send to the polling stations." Eames sighs deeply, already dreading how much work it's going to be, but forging documents is one of the things he's best at.

"I'll be getting a copy of the sheet when they set up in the morning, and then it's a 10 hour day of printing and filling ballots."

Arthur nods, glancing down at the map again. "Wonder where they're getting them printed. It would be best to pay someone off to print extras there, since then the paper and ink quality would match exactly, but it's probably too secure, can't count on them not to cover their tracks or even keep it to themselves..."

Also, probably no one cares about slight variations in paper and ink quality.

"What about the couriers? What happens if they get caught?"

"They don't know it, but they'll be followed the whole way." Best way to have them act natural and also make sure they're not about to turn on anyone of their own volition, "we can haul them off if they get caught out, and accusations of vote tampering are enough of an issue to reschedule the election," he gestures vaguely at the map, "and in the intervening time, one might fancy theorising that Norrell tried to rig the election to keep his seat of power."

This plan is going to be messy anyway, but Arthur frowns as he tries to come up with ways for it to be less messy. Not an easy task. "If that happens, how are you going to keep it from getting linked back to you?"

"I could kill them." He shrugs, thinking on the question. All he really has is the fact that they have a lot more to lose in their short little lives if they give him up then he does.

Arthur sighs - he is clearly not in favour of that as the first option, but he digresses.

"Listen," he says patiently, "without specifics I just see a lot of holes in this plan. You can't be at all these locations at once to make sure it doesn't go south, and if even one of those couriers gets caught you are going to be vulnerable whether they lie for you or not. Plus you're going to need someone who can sense magic at every stage to make sure there aren't witches watching, and you can't be guaranteed that those Night Council employees can do that. You also can't send fae in there just in case someone's there who can sense magic. On top of all of that, they need a good story. One that makes sense, and one they all know by heart, in case more than one of them gets caught."

Ugh.

He's right, of course, but that doesn't make it any less annoying to hear. Eames frowns and crosses his arms as he looks at the map and thinks that over.

"The actual changeover will have to be handled by fae, but I can source some adept witches to deal with everything outside that," he says, voice a little halting as he's saying all this as he thinks it through, "convince the couriers I'm doing this on behalf of Midnight... Prep a memory potion while I'm at it so they don't remember the specifics of who's paying them."

Arthur presses on.

"What if one of those witches can tell it's a fae they're handing it off to? I know there probably won't be a lot of witches who are that good doing these jobs, but are you willing to risk it?"

"Fae doesn't mean they're working in the Courts' interests," Eames shrugs, "especially if they believe this is on behalf of Midnight."

It's exactly the sort of the thing the likes of Norrell and Redbright want people to believe all Midnight witches are stooping to anyway.

Arthur nods. It's not like it'd be unheard of, but it will fuel the fire between Midnight and Daybreak if that's how it goes. This is a failsafe plan, so hopefully it won't be necessary, but Arthur hates loose ends.

"Abby will be quick to point fingers if anyone looks at her for this. If you still have any sort of alliance with them I'd try pinning it on someone else. A rogue coven, specifically. You have to make sure there's a trail leading somewhere before it hits a dead end, just in case."

"That's simple enough," Eames shrugs. Part of him does want to lead the trail to Abigail, but he'll hold on to that slight for a little longer. Some time when it'll be more useful. It'd be less dangerous and much simpler to push the chips somewhere else.

"They're still so fragmented, there's hardly any infrastructure to work around."

Arthur nods, looking down at the map again thoughtfully. "This is all hypothetical; ideally no one gets caught, but just make sure there are enough breadcrumbs leading somewhere else so they forget to look at the courts at all."

He takes a deep breath. "So, on election day," he begins, running through it again to make sure it's clear in his head, "ballots get copied and forged. You'll need help with that, so I assume you have fae you trust or memory potions. Forged ballots get delivered to the couriers, they switch them out some time before the second hand-off... Ballots get delievered, counted, Norrell loses."

Arthur stares down at the map for a moment, then looks up at Eames. "A lot of this counts on the Night Council being sloppy or not having the resources to prevent this."

"Unless they're suddenly changing to electronic ballots this election, I think I can handle anything they've got."

Thank god for the old fashioned habits of British politics.

"I was thinking more along the lines of preventative magic," Arthur says, sitting up and running a hand down his face. "Sylvia could have put a spell on the ballot boxes herself to keep them from being opened before it's time to count them. There could be a magical signature on the ballots themselves that you can't replicate."

He shrugs. "I'm not saying they've actually smartened up, but it's not impossible for them to have come up with something that makes this plan fail before it even begins."

If anything, Eames looks a little excited by Arthur's suggestions. He's never had to perfectly replicate a particular witch's spell before, that sounds like something he really wants to try.

But it's unlikely he'll need to, and that is a grave disappointment. He sighs, "that'd be a huge time and resource sink. No way they could do it without anyone knowing by now."

"Fair enough," Arthur says, like he's convinced. "I wouldn't put it past Sylvia, though. And I'd prepare the couriers for the possibility that they have an escort, as well."

Eames nods, taking that all in as he stares at the map. There are finer details that need to be tweaked, but this has helped a lot to solidify things, point out errors, etc. Exactly what he came to Arthur for.

"Thanks," he says, finishing his beer and setting the bottle down with a sigh. More work to do, what fun. "I should be off."

Arthur raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from his beer, asking as casually as possible:

"Somewhere to be?"

"Petty squabbles wait for no man," Eames says with the resigned tone of a man who does not give a single shit about other people's dumb arguments. "I should get a move on some of this preparation too."

Arthur doesn't disagree with the preparation bit, but he also knows it doesn't have to start immediately. "The petty squabbles can't wait for you to have another drink?"

He gestures with his beer and tilts his head.

Well.

Eames raises an eyebrow and purses his lips in thought for a moment, pretending that it takes any thought at all for him to decide that he can put off all that stuff until later.

"I don't see why not."

Arthur just can't help himself. He smiles down at his drink, a little smug, and then he shrugs nonchalant. "Well, by all means, don't let me keep you if you have things to do."

[catch-all] For when then and there, there will be enough.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)