[ ACTIVE/ OPEN ] Southwark Claim

[knightscode]

Date: 28th of May
Plot: Southwark Territory Claim by Daybreak
Areas: Lambeth and surrounding areas!



The month has been one of chaos, following the Night Council results. The surprise loss by Norrell felt like a small victory to those who opposed his rather heavy handed tactics, but of course Millicent had still won -- and what followed... Street hunts, murders, robberies, arson, open hunting of werewolves during the full moon. 'Gang violence', they called it, but everyone in the know understood what was really going on. Such actions cannot go unanswered, and someone has to do something about it soon.

On May the 28th a group of Daybreak members and its allies begin to move in to Southwark, and some of them may notice it's a little easier than they might have first expected...

[ ooc; log for the Daybreak territory claim! This is the Daybreak faction reward claim, and being used as plot distract Millicent! It is being run by Lance in response to the general bullshittery Millicent has pulled, via persuasion by Jean-Claude. Once he realises he has been used he will most likely be reasonably upset, as he has no idea he is in fact a distraction! ]

Comments

[ Closed to Jean-Claude ]

[knightscode]

Lancelot has always had a mix of strange dreams, it came with having had a childhood and then adulthood as confusing and unpleasant as he had.

What he had never had before, though, was a dream where a stranger had walked in.

They often started the same, the fire he remembers only faintly -- the surroundings of the old house out of focus and filled in with vague bits from other places he has lived. Opening the cellar door and making his way out onto the street. The heat of the summer, the smell of blood, the warmth of Seelie magic.

Jean-Claude, however, shouldn't have been there.

It was surprising enough that it had stuck with him, and it had happened again --

(Standing in Croydon, the night the fae took it, beating back fae aggressively with a piece of iron scaffolding. Stopping long enough to realise it isn't a fae he's bludgeoning any more, then in the sharp sense of shock and horror there he is as Lancelot looks up.

Jean-Claude was never there. Jean-Claude shouldn't be there.)

He'd have brushed it off it was only once, but it wasn't, and Lancelot doesn't know a lot about vampires but it doesn't take a huge amount of effort to find out why one might be in his dreams.

It's too early for Guilty Pleasures to be busy yet, so the way Lancelot stiffly walks in -- shoulders lifted in uncomfortable defensiveness, hands in pockets -- quickly gets him a few looks even before he reaches Jean-Claude. He doesn't say anything at first, because he isn't sure what to say, but his unease is palpable.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude is a bit surprised to find Lancelot walking into his club, and yet he is unsurprised to be seeing the man, all things considered. It was a conscious decision on his part, after all, to take such journeys into the other man's dreams. To choose what sort of a role to play in them, and how obvious he would like to be about his presence there. He would not say that he did not try to disguise himself at all. There were moments he knew better than to linger in. But his dream-walking had told him a great deal about the other man, and moreover it had gotten Lancelot thinking about him. And brought him to his doorstep, had it not?

He is the picture of poise as he glances up from his seat on the end of the bar, away from the crowd, keeping an eye on the crowd, on the dancers. His posture is straight and elegant, his legs crossed at the knee despite how difficult it probably should have been in those leather pants. Jean-Claude made it a point to always make anything he did look effortless. Or rather, he had been trained that way.

"I did not think that such a scene was to your tastes, mon ami," he says, greeting the other man with the slight incline of his head. He quirks something of a smile as he continues, "Can it be you have changed your mind? I cannot say that I am complaining."

[knightscode]

"I was looking for you," Lancelot supplies, and he doesn't match the smile -- not this time. "Do you have somewhere quiet we could talk?"

Somewhere away from the watching dancers and small group of people already at the bar. His eyes flick around the room a moment before they land back on Jean-Claude, waiting patiently for a cue to go.

[baisant]

Ah, yes. It seems that Lancelot had noticed him indeed. And from the looks of it, he's none too happy about Jean-Claude's tactics either. Jean-Claude's smile does not falter, although if one were to look closely, one who knew him, they would understand it was very put on. Even more so than usual, for that matter.

"But of course," he says, moving to stand, glancing across the room to the bouncer with a nod. Everything is fine, the look says. Keep the place in one piece while I step away. Turning back to Lancelot, he sweeps a hand towards a door set just beside the bar, marked 'Employees Only'. "If you would join me in my office?" He steps forward, opening the door to the hallway and gesturing for Lancelot to follow him down through it.

[knightscode]

He follows in silence, head down and shoulders still hunched a little defensively. Once he's through the door he looks up and around a moment, gauging the room before quietly closing the door behind himself.

Lancelot stays standing, surveying the place as he tries to gather himself.

"Forgive me," he says finally, "but all this is a little new to me. I do not know a great deal about vampires. I have only been... conscious of these things less than a year, perhaps. Well. Longer, in truth, but... that is more complicated. I have begun to read up on it, though. Trying to catch up. I feel a guardian should know exactly who and what they are dealing with. Redbright has a good library on such things and... some of my friends have been kind enough to share their own knowledge."

[baisant]

Jean-Claude ushers Lancelot into his office, closing the door behind him before stepping forward and inside himself. It's perhaps more decorative than one might have anticipated. Black lacquered desk, white lounge sofa. Most of the artwork hanging on the walls is black and white as well, and Jean-Claude himself seems to match the place. Pale white skin. Dark black curls. Black leather pants and boots. White lace shirt. It should be pretty obvious who decorated.

He steps forward to perch on the edge of his desk, offering Lancelot a choice of the sofa or the chair before him. Or to keep standing if he likes. Even perched as he is he remains poised. Slightly calculating, as he follows every stumbling word.

"What is it that you have come to me to ask, mon ami?" he prompts, keeping his tone light and neutral.

[knightscode]

"My dreams," Lancelot says, "I saw you in them. Not --" he winces, lets out a slow breath as he tries to steady himself. "Not... like that. You were there. You put yourself there. It's because I drank your blood, isn't it? You can see them."

He frowns at Jean-Claude, as if daring him to deny it.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude cannot help but quirk something of a smirk in response to the other man's correction. Mostly because he felt compelled to correct himself in the first place. Though he does not let the expression linger. He can tell, but the look on the other man's face and the fact that he is as flustered as he is, that he is upset about this. And he supposes that he has a right to be, coming at it from his perspective.

"I was there," he confirms. He can see that Lancelot is daring him to deny it. So he doesn't. Why should he? Lancelot saw him. It is simple fact that vampires have the ability to do such things. He was merely flexing his muscles, testing the water, seeking new infomation. And in truth, he could not help himself.

[knightscode]

"Why?"

It's a simple question, but it is something that nags at Lancelot. Why was Jean-Claude in his head, of all places, in his dreams? Why him? What did he hope to gain, or see?

"I did not invite you, Jean-Claude, you had no place there."

OTA

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick didn't know this was happening tonight. He's not here to support Daybreak and he'd have avoided the vampire territory completely if he didn't have to pass through on Seelie business tonight. He has his trident with him, concealed so he can walk down the street without being obvious, but once he realizes there are witches prowling around he starts to stick to the shadows a little more.

He suppresses his magic as much as he can so he can't be sensed by anyone without a little more magical acuity and curiously watches the Daybreak witches he comes across. He keeps alert for vampires but primarily is looking to find out why the witches are turning on the vampires now. This could be useful.

[knightscode]

Lancelot is angry, and for people who know him it's a strange sort of look on him. He's normally such a debate, unflappable creature -- someone who resists intense emotional displays -- that the narrowing of his eyes and set of his shoulders nearly renders him someone else entirely.

He cannot sense Finnick, but Finnick can probably feel him even before he appears. The peculiar feel of his second-hand Seelie magic, and the way he's wielding it now -- or certainly actively wielding magic of some sort. A vampire goes flying past like something has knocked them clean through the air, and a moment later Lancelot appears, slightly out of breath but perhaps not as much as might be expected. He doesn't notice Finnick at first, focusing on pinpointing where the vampire landed. It picks itself up and looms out of shadows, darts toward him, but this time Lancelot is ready. He catches the vampire as it lunges forward and digs a silver dagger into it, only letting go once he's sure it has taken effect.

The sight of Finnick suddenly startles Lancelot, and it's clear for a moment he has no idea how to react. After a second, though, he sheaths the blade he's carrying and holds out his hands. No weapon, no threat. Sort of.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he begins, as if that wasn't entirely obvious already.

[thelittlemerman]

"I suspect I'm not here for the same reason you are," he replies, glancing at the spot where the vampire has died. He recognizes some kind of fire in Lancelot that he hasn't seen before in his limited time with the man so he decides to tread rather carefully. Finnick's magic is powerful, but he can still be caught off guard, and he doesn't know what kind of abilities Lancelot may have.

Still, he decides to ask the first question plainly.

"What are the witches doing here?"

[knightscode]

He takes a moment to collect himself, eyes still flicking about every so often -- on the alert in case another vampire appears.

"Millicent has gone too far. She's given Islington free rein to kill and turn as they please in celebration of her victory, begun offering rewards for vampires who hunt and skin werewolves. We're taking control of Southwark to protect the people here. It isn't safe any more, not like this."

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick actually has the gall to let out a dry laugh at that. Millicent has gone too far, the man says. They trusted a vampire of all things. Trusted her to be reasonable, trusted her not to be bloodthirsty.

"What a surprise," he says, his tone sardonic. "So, is this Night Council business for you, then?"

[knightscode]

"No," he corrects, "I'm here with Daybreak."

He dusts off his hands a little, lofts an eyebrow slightly.

"I haven't seen any of Norrell's coven here but you may want to be careful just in case. I think they're mostly still licking their wounds from his election loss."

[thelittlemerman]

Lancelot's probably lucky he doesn't give Finnick the time to make some scathing comment about him being Daybreak and Night Council, because he probably could come up with something really hurtful. He's distracted at the mention of Norrell's name, however, so that's a small mercy.

"I can hold my own against some misguided witches," he says dismissively, rolling his eyes and then fixing Lancelot with a cool look and a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps I should spend a little more time here, actually. If you take over I won't be allowed back, after all."

[knightscode]

"I wouldn't say no to the company, yours is preferable to these gentleman who seem rather intent on draining my blood. Apparently I smell good to them. So if you'd like to hang around just punch them, not me, and we have no problems."

Lance is a meta human by way of fae, after all, and fae blood is especially intoxicating to vampires. Lance is something of a lite version, he supposes.

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick actually takes a moment to consider it, his expression sobering a touch as he glances down the street and then back at Lancelot while he thinks it over.

"As much as I love murdering vampires, I'm not sure I can act in the interests of Sylvia Redbright and Gilbert Norrell," he says, his tone almost regretful.

OTA

[catphishing]

Oliver had wanted more excitement in his life and he's certainly got it now. Just not exactly in the ways he wanted. He has nothing against Daybreak witches, but his recent alliances with Islington mean they definitely have it in for him. Something there's very little he can do about if he comes into contact with them, so he's trying not to.

Maybe if he comes across across one of the Islington vampires he'll be safer. Maybe he'll even be able to do a little to help.

[knightscode]

Lancelot may not be a witch, but he's definitely taking part in the claim. The vampires can smell him coming, but the funny thing about Lancelot is not only is he not a witch -- he's a meta human doused in fae magic.

Something Daybreak doesn't normally approve of, fae things.

It's enough to give some of them pause right until he throw them across the way, and the vampire who goes sailing past Oliver is definitely surprised.

Lancelot himself doesn't even notice Oliver as he jogs through to follow the vampire, intently watching it as it picks itself up and glowers at him.

[catphishing]

Lacelot may not notice Oliver, but he notices him. It's kind of hard to miss him when the vampire he'd just thrown had come so close to knocking him down too. Maybe it would be better for him to stay invisible. It's not like he's capable of standing up to someone who can throw a vampire down like that. Except of course he can't resist opening his stupid mouth and getting himself involved.

"Hey, come on. Lay off. He didn't even do anything."

Not that the vampire wouldn't have if he'd been given the chance before being tossed aside like that. If not then, it definitely looks like it's about to attempt to inflict some damage now.

[knightscode]

He looks over sharply at Oliver, blinking in surprise, and at a glance Oliver is not somebody who belongs in this fight. He may be hiding it, of course, but right off Lancelot can sense no magic from him. Nothing that marks him as a witch or a fae, and if he was a vampire -- well, wouldn't be be involved a little more than... asking Lancelot to be nice?

"You should get somewhere safe," Lancelot begins, "please, it's dangerous here and --"

And before he can finish the warning the vampire is making a leap for Lancelot, supernaturally fast. He turns just in time to stop its fangs reaching his neck, grits his teeth in frustration.

"I'd run if I were you!" he warns.

It's possible he wouldn't be so charitable if he realised Oliver was not exactly an innocent bystander.

[catphishing]

If there's one thing Oliver hates it's being told he shouldn't be where he is. The unnecessary warnings of danger, as if he's some idiot who has no idea what he's involved in. Maybe he doesn't have magic, or anything really, but the vampire must have advantages.

He has no idea exactly how competent this one is. He doesn't know him. Still. Two against one. It can't be completely unrealistic for him to at least provide a little help for the vampire here, even if it's just by getting in the way of the other man whatever he might be. Presumably he's a witch. Maybe his strength comes from some kind of magic. He looks at the vampire, still trying to embed his teeth in Lancelot's neck.

"You can take him, right?"

Then he tries to grab Lancelot's arm. He's not strong enough to stop him, but maybe it'll confuse him enough to allow the vampire to actually bite him.

[knightscode]

What?

There's a lesson somewhere in this for Lancelot, but he's too busy trying to work out the best way out of this problem to really learn it. Is this kid a vampire? He doesn't seem to be baring fangs, doesn't feel very strong -- not from the way he's grabbing Lancelot at least.

Unfortunately, Lancelot is. He flings the vampire clear of himself again and turns quickly to try and grab hold of Oliver. The advantage Oliver has here is that Lancelot really doesn't want to hurt him, despite this...

[catphishing]

Oliver's eyes widen, clawing at his hands as he grabs hold of him. This guy could do him some pretty serious damage if he can flatten a vampire that easily. He knows full well he doesn't stand a chance without his vampire ally.

He wants to be brave, to prove his worth here, but the trouble is when it comes down to it he's just not that kind of guy much as he would like to be. The words spill from his lips before he can stop them.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me."