Lancelot du Lac (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
knightscode) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2016-05-05 05:56 pm
knightscode) wrote in undergrounds2016-05-05 05:56 pm
Entry tags:
Semi-open: May 05
Who: Lancelot and friends!
What: It's a birthday party! With both regular people and supernatural types. What could go wrong?
When: May 05
Where: Lancelot's flat & garden, Richmond!
Warnings: Gratuitous doggy! Probably a punch up later. Possibly some drunk kissing.
Lancelot's garden is not exactly an acre-large tented paradise.
He's not made of money.
It's big enough to just about fit the people invited across the patio and grass, with Lily variously herding them and rolling around, and he's flitting between them and the kitchen and living room and generally doing his best to butterfly around all of them making sure they're happy. The garden is relatively tidy, as tidy and well kept as a garden that suffers an enthusiastic dog can be. The hedges are neatly trimmed, the tree in one corner healthy and big enough to throw a little shade, and the one flowerbed border seems to mostly have some roses that are yet to fully bloom.
For those who he's only known since the incident last year he's given them a warning: not everyone who will be there is aware of the supernatural side of things, so try not to blurt it to people you don't know.
Despite it being his own birthday Lancelot is, of course, playing host. There's a table set up outside with finger food, salads, drinks and all sorts -- and food strategically inside for those who can't be out in the sun too. He appears to still be checking on more in the oven every so often too, but Lancelot does like to cook -- and he seems quite focused on making sure everyone has something they could eat.
Some of the drinks are alcoholic. The punch isn't that strong, but he has a few other drinks along the side for people who want them and some bottles of beer in an ice bucket. If someone decides to do a little mixing of course then it might wind up stronger.
His sound system is playing the soothing strains of Dire Straits through the place and all in all, for now at least things are going smoothly. So long as nobody says the wrong thing to the wrong person, it will probably be a nice evening. With the mixture of factions present alongside those who have no idea what a faction is, of course... that may be difficult.
[ OOC: Feel free to mingle away on the post with others here! ]
What: It's a birthday party! With both regular people and supernatural types. What could go wrong?
When: May 05
Where: Lancelot's flat & garden, Richmond!
Warnings: Gratuitous doggy! Probably a punch up later. Possibly some drunk kissing.
Lancelot's garden is not exactly an acre-large tented paradise.
He's not made of money.
It's big enough to just about fit the people invited across the patio and grass, with Lily variously herding them and rolling around, and he's flitting between them and the kitchen and living room and generally doing his best to butterfly around all of them making sure they're happy. The garden is relatively tidy, as tidy and well kept as a garden that suffers an enthusiastic dog can be. The hedges are neatly trimmed, the tree in one corner healthy and big enough to throw a little shade, and the one flowerbed border seems to mostly have some roses that are yet to fully bloom.
For those who he's only known since the incident last year he's given them a warning: not everyone who will be there is aware of the supernatural side of things, so try not to blurt it to people you don't know.
Despite it being his own birthday Lancelot is, of course, playing host. There's a table set up outside with finger food, salads, drinks and all sorts -- and food strategically inside for those who can't be out in the sun too. He appears to still be checking on more in the oven every so often too, but Lancelot does like to cook -- and he seems quite focused on making sure everyone has something they could eat.
Some of the drinks are alcoholic. The punch isn't that strong, but he has a few other drinks along the side for people who want them and some bottles of beer in an ice bucket. If someone decides to do a little mixing of course then it might wind up stronger.
His sound system is playing the soothing strains of Dire Straits through the place and all in all, for now at least things are going smoothly. So long as nobody says the wrong thing to the wrong person, it will probably be a nice evening. With the mixture of factions present alongside those who have no idea what a faction is, of course... that may be difficult.
[ OOC: Feel free to mingle away on the post with others here! ]
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"Not in the same way," he allows, "a legal document can be binding, can be without a break clause, but you are right -- the binding is not exactly the same in nature. It's fuzzy, though." He hesitates, shifting his grip on Lily as he debates if the next part is worth saying. "That is what Gilbert Norrell is trying to do," he says finally, "by stamping out anything that qualifies as dark magic. Putting a stop to anything that can hold an influence over a person, control them, bind them."
As much as many people may dislike him, his methods, it is the heart and soul of everything he does: bringing about the end of dark magic. Control and manipulation are things that qualify as dark magic.
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He shrugs, hoping not to go too far down that road and changing tack before they can get into any sort of argument about it. "I don't know, I guess it just adds another layer to consider. I trust that people can have good intentions, but I also know they can be influenced by other people who don't, with magic or plain old non-magical persuasion."
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"I suppose that's my point. People can be influenced, magic or not. Can be good or bad, or somewhere between. Magic complicates things, but the complications aren't so different without out. Just the style and scale. I'm running on fae magic, after all, but somehow I'm apparently part of Daybreak and a protector of the Night Council -- which includes Norrell. The lines are all a little selective and strange. If someone tried to kill him and I managed to stop them I doubt he'd be principled enough to hold it against me."
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"So, you're with Daybreak but you're not a witch?" he asks, still keeping his tone casual.
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He twitches a smile, shrugs slightly.
"What Daybreak is on paper may not match how it behaves, always, but I still support the spirit of the faction."
Just not the letter of Norrell's laws.
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"My former employer, actually... he may have been Daybreak if anyone could have gotten him to stop moving for long enough. He wasn't much for restrictions, but he was more interested in research and theory than practicing most of the time."
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"Perhaps we aren't so different then," he offers, and shifts to lean his weight slightly more against the counter. "just with varying levels of cynicism, I think."
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He widens his eyes a fraction, as if to say magic users, right? Then darts his eyes off around the party and shakes his head.
"It's something I absorbed, not something I really wield."
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